A Time to Gather (37 page)

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Authors: Sally John

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BOOK: A Time to Gather
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“Really? Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.”

Lexi still grinned. “Is this like a date?”

“No! Uh-uh. We’re going as friends. He needs . . . wants . . . uh, feels . . . my moral support would be helpful.”

She giggled. “You like him.”

Rosie sighed. “I seem to.”

“He must like you too. He doesn’t have female ‘friends.’”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a ladies’ man. Look at me.” She wiggled her fingers toward herself, pointing out her blue jeans, long-sleeve T-shirt, and ponytail. “I mean, it ties your brain into knots trying to imagine him dating this, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, Rosie. Why do you say that?”

“Lexi! The obvious. I’m not tall and blonde and blue-eyed.”

“But he’s sober now. He’s bound to grow out of that cutesy phase.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed again. “This is just between us, okay?”

Lexi laughed out loud. “I bet he already knows.”

“Whatever.” It was good to hear the laugh. She waited until it ended before going on. “Anyway, I bring this up for a reason. Nathan Warner.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“But you need to hear this. He really is a good guy.”

“You told me that on the phone. But no way. After what he did?”

“There’s a part I left out. That night you were at the bar with Erik, he noticed you. He wanted to talk to you, but he was too upset with Fletcher’s behavior and left. Lexi, Nathan said you totally intrigued him.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Nope. You were just being you.”

Lexi drew her knees up and hugged them to herself. “He’s that guy’s half-brother.”

“Bobby has the meanest brother in the world. Bobby doesn’t have a hurtful bone in his body. And I’ve run every possible check on Nathan, read his work, talked to former employers. He’s clean, Lexi. Smart and good-looking.”

“He’s left five voice mails on my phone.”

“Persistent bugger too. I think it’s only fair you give him a chance to grovel.”

Lexi shrugged a shoulder.

“Your dad and I could come and stand guard.”

“I don’t think so!”

Rosie grinned. “Thatta girl. You can do it all by yourself.”

  
Sixty-Nine

T
en days after Rosie suggested she give him the opportunity to grovel, Lexi met Nathan Warner at the same coffee shop they’d been in before.

She didn’t quite go it alone. Although she had “unleeched” herself from her dad, she still didn’t do much without some family member nearby. At the moment, Danny sat outside in his car parked next to hers, eyes on the shop’s door.

Nathan stood when he saw her enter the shop. He pointed at a cup on the table and mouthed
Venti iced caramel macchiato, extra
shot, extra whipped cream
.

A smile tugged at her mouth.

The problem with all the forgiveness business was she found herself wanting to believe the best of everyone. Well, everyone short of this man’s brother.

She reached the small table and stood beside it.

“Hi, Lexi.”

“Did you know he was going to hurt my brother?”

“I swear, I had no clue. Reid was angry. He blamed Erik for putting the kibosh on his one crack at breaking into the big time. That night when Erik walked in, Reid went after him. Verbally. I only heard his bitterness. I didn’t hear any vengeful act in the making. I’m sorry. I should have.”

“Did you tell him where I lived?”

“Good grief, no. He told me the night before you and I met for dinner.” He glanced at a nearby table. “Lexi, let’s sit down, please.”

She noticed people were watching their exchange. She sat.

Nathan followed suit and slid the drink in front of her. “This may not help, but I’ll say it anyway: he was never violent. I don’t think he would have harmed you physically.”

He was right. Hearing that didn’t help.

“Lexi, I promise he will never hurt you again. I promise that I will never intentionally hurt you again. May I finish the story?”

She nodded, hands in her lap, head lowered.

“I began to wonder about Reid when he told me your address. And where you buy groceries.”

Nausea churned her stomach.

“He said Erik seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. So . . . he followed you. That’s when I got worried. I told him to leave you alone. He said he just needed to know if you saw him arguing with Erik. I said I would find out.”

She looked at him. His hands were gripped together on the table, his eyes down.

“I began to put two and two together. Why was it such a big deal to him? Did he have something to do with Erik getting to Felicia’s? With the toy gun, even?” He shook his head. “Something was seriously wrong. I talked to our mom after that. I said Reid needed professional help. She agreed.”

Lexi waited for him to continue.

“Then I met you
for dinner.” He raised his eyes to her. “You don’t have to believe this, but I was going to tell you everything before our evening ended. I just didn’t want to ruin our moment together.” A sad smile crossed his lips. “It was a good moment. A connection. They don’t happen often. At least not to me.”

Warm fuzzies bubbled inside of her. There was no denying she’d felt the same, so much so she had opened up to him more than she ever had with anyone.

He said, “I guess that’s the end. Except—Lexi, I am so sorry for what he did to you. I am so sorry I didn’t run after you.”

Like Rosie and Bobby would have let that happen.

“I should tell you the beginning of the story. I noticed you that first night and I said to myself
I really would like to know that
woman
. When I figured out you were the one that might, according to Reid, ease his mind, I jumped at the chance to meet you.”

“You went through Zak and made up a ruse about writing an article!”

“I’m sorry. I’m short on pickup lines. And I couldn’t fake it, pretending I didn’t know the first thing about you before we met. Lexi, short of a miracle, I know you can’t forgive me. But I wish with all my heart that at some point we could pick up where we left off.”

“I forgive you.” The words sprang straight from her heart to her tongue.

His entire body visibly relaxed. The tense lines on his face softened. He took a deep breath, let it out, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well.” Her tone of absolution flip-flopped to harsh. Old reactions short-circuited the new attitude. “Danny says to forgive means to forget. And that part I’m not so sure about.”

“I understand.”

Lexi tried to avoid eye contact but the warmth of those tawny irises drew her back. She had told this guy everything. She was so gullible.

She said, “I just don’t want to be gullible anymore. Are you even writing that stupid article?”

“I sold it. Two versions actually. One to a firefighting magazine. Another—the personal one about you—to a Sunday supplement. Only with your approval, of course. You are a heroine, Lexi. People will love reading about you.”

“Don’t flatter me.”

“I’m not. I won’t. I’m just groveling for a second chance to see you again.”

A second chance. What if he trampled all over her trust again? Could she handle that?

She thought of her family, how their presence had become a safety net. The knowledge that Danny sat right outside the door held her in a comfort zone she could not have found on her own. Maybe if she knew the family was nearby watching over her, then maybe another meeting with Nathan wasn’t out of the question.

The wedding reception.

She stood up. “Saturday night. Hotel Del. Seven thirty. Black tie.”

“I’ll be there.”

She hesitated. The black-tie part was optional. But . . . if she had to wear a little black dress, then Mr. Casual in his Birkis could wear a tux. Besides, his second chance should come with extremely high standards.

Lexi picked up her venti iced caramel macchiato, extra shot, extra whipped cream, swiveled on her heel, and made what she considered quite a nice exit.

  
Seventy

O
n a Friday afternoon in early June, the day before she planned to renew her marriage vows, Claire sat outdoors on the railroad tie steps that led down to the hacienda’s parking area.

Only two cars sat on the new blacktop, hers and Max’s. More would arrive soon. Danny and Jenna were driving together from the city. Indio and Ben would most likely ride in his truck up the hill from their house. Lexi and Tuyen planned to hike that same hill; they were checking out the newly delivered RV. Erik was on his way, driving himself after getting a ride in from the desert to his own car.

There was much unfinished business.

Jenna languished over Kevin, not due home until next spring.

Lexi and Tuyen, both still hurting but healing, faced the thousand and one household details of moving. The RV required some furnishings. Lexi wasn’t crazy about the commute to work. Tuyen needed a job.

Ben talked to Tuyen, but not often and not directly and not with a smile.

And then there was Erik.

Which was the reason Claire waited alone on the steps for him.

T
he change in her eldest son was obvious when he parked his sporty car. No brakes squealed. No music blared. No gunned engine noise.

Erik climbed out, removing his sunglasses, a small smile on his lips, his right arm free from the sling. “Hey, Mom.”

Claire met him with a fierce hug. “Welcome.” She almost added “home,” but swallowed the word. It wasn’t his home.

“Thanks.”

She kissed his cheek. “Let me look at you.”

He twirled around for her, always the performer.

She smiled. “Seriously.”

He leaned over and pressed his forehead against hers. “Twenty-five days sober.”

Thank You, Lord.
She whispered, “I don’t want us to interfere, to undo anything.”

He straightened. “Mom, how I react to people and situations is totally my choice. I’m in good shape. Trust me, this couple, Jillie and Greg, they would have strongly suggested I stay put if I weren’t ready.”

She stared at him. As always he was confident, but . . . where was the insolence? “Okay.”

He watched her closely. “Go ahead. Tell me what’s on your mind. I won’t break, I promise.”

“You’ve changed.”

“I have.”

“Your father has changed too.”

He cocked his head to one side.

“Erik, let him change.”

Slowly, understanding dawned in his eyes. His mouth curved into that signature half smile. “You mean not to react to the old Max. Not slip into my old way of relating to him. Like, um, snapping and barking like some rabid dog whenever he’s in the vicinity?”

She spread her hands. “Does it make sense?”

He laughed. “Got it covered, Mom. I’ve forgiven him.” He looked over her shoulder. “Speak of the devil.”

Claire glanced back and saw Max approaching the top of the steps.

Erik touched her shoulder as he walked past her. “I hope you gave him the same talk.”

Of course she had. Maybe it hadn’t been necessary, but when Max said he was going to the office about the time Erik was due to arrive, she recognized anxiety signals. The remedy seemed so simple.
Let your son be changed.

Erik’s long legs quickly bridged the distance between him and his dad.

Too far to hear the brief words they exchanged, she understood them in her heart. The clues were easy to follow. Especially the big bear hug.

L
ate that afternoon, the family roamed through the hacienda, checking out the refurbished rooms. They observed what needed to be done and anticipated the first guests to visit the
Hacienda Hideaway ~ A
Place of Retreat
in a few months.

At every turn Claire’s heart overflowed with gratitude.

As a group, they sauntered into the sala. Lexi lingered behind in the courtyard.

Danny gestured at the walls. “I like what you’ve done in here with the lighter paneling, but it’s still kind of stark.”

“It is,” Max said. “I asked Lexi if we could hang some of her paintings. She said she wants to work on a new series for this room.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, “you wouldn’t want her last phase with all that on-the-verge-of-extinction. No offense, Lex—oh, I guess she’s not in here. Man, talk about stark.”

“I saw those,” Max said. “I prefer Gigi the giraffe. She’d go perfect on that far wall.”

Erik chuckled. “I do believe Gigi is spoken for by a certain policewoman.”

Claire smiled. She’d been trying to suppress her delight ever since she heard Rosie was accompanying Erik to Saturday’s festivities.

Ben stepped to a side wall and rapped his knuckles on it. “I miss the map. It went right here.”

Danny said, “Your grandfather drew it, right?”

“Yep. Can’t replace that one. It showed trees and hills and where the gold was.” He shook his head, clearly disturbed at the loss.

“You know what, Papa?” Danny placed an arm around his shoulders and gazed with him toward the undecorated wall. “You can find just about anything on the ’Net these days.”

“Can’t find originals by your ancestors.”

“That is true.” Danny moved to a nearby chair, squatted down, and fished a hand beneath it. “But you can punch information to the right people and come up with a pretty good facsimile.” He pulled out a long cardboard tube.

Claire stared in anticipation as he pulled a cap off one end. He reached inside, grinning the whole time, and slowly withdrew a rolled-up piece of what appeared to be parchment paper.

With a flourish he unrolled it. “Ta-da!”

They all gathered around him, Ben in the center.

“Not bad, huh, Papa? It’s even got the different clumps of boulders and the oldest oak.” He winced. “Which we think is growing back.”

Ben clapped Danny’s shoulder, clearly at a loss for words.

Indio wept. The rest of them oohed and aahed.

Erik said, “It’s perfect, Dan. Great idea.”

A high-pitched cry split the air. “Oh!” It was Lexi, from the courtyard.

Max was the first one through the door, Claire on his heels.

“Oh,” she yelled again. “Come see this!”

“Lexi!” he shouted.

“Here!”

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