On The Texas Border (19 page)

Suddenly Brewster turned his head as if he sensed someone was there. “Jonas, is that you?” His voice was weak and low.

Jonas swallowed before he could answer. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried. Thought you left.”

“No, remember we have a deal,” Jonas told him lightly. “I’m not going any where until…” He couldn’t finished the sentence.

“Until I die,” Brewster finished for him. “You can say it, Jonas. I know it’s happening.”

“I brought someone to see you,” Jonas said quickly, to change the subject.

Brewster shook his head. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“I think you’ll want to see this person.” Jonas went over and opened the door.

Abby took a shuddering breath and walked inside. Jonas led her to the bed. The moment she saw his frailty, all the bitterness, anger and resentment faded away. This was her father, she kept thinking, and she barely knew him. Oh God, oh God, this was her father.

Brewster opened his eyes and stared at her. A light burned bright in the inner depths. “Abigail, Abigail, oh, Abigail,” he moaned in distress.

Jonas stepped closer. “Yes, it’s Abigail. She’s come to see you.”

Tears rolled from his eyes onto the pillow, and Abby had to bite her lip to keep emotions from overpowering her.

“Thank you, Jonas, and thank you, Abigail. I don’t deserve this.”

Jonas pulled up a chair for Abby, and she was grateful because her legs were wobbly.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Brewster said, his voice weakening. “I got selfish. I wanted you to know, but I should have left you with your memories. Sometimes that’s all we have.”

Abby wasn’t sure what to say. It was very clear Mr. Brewster was seeking forgiveness and atonement for everything he’d done. In that instant she knew she’d already forgiven him.

She held her hands tightly. “Thank you for the article.”

“You’re welcome.” He sighed tiredly.

Without thinking, she quickly added, “I’ve been listening to the tapes you dictated, and if you want, I’ll finish your memoirs.”

Mr. Brewster held out a hand and slowly she placed hers in his. His fingers moved, but that was the only strength he had. As his hand fell to the bed, a sob rose up in her throat.

Frantically she glanced at his chest, afraid that he’d stopped breathing. Suddenly his chest started to move. She let out a long sigh of relief. It was too soon. He couldn’t die just yet.
It was too soon.

Jonas gently helped her to her feet, and they made their way out the door past the others and onto the front veranda. Outside, he folded her in his arms, and she allowed herself to cry silent, aching sobs. After a while she brushed away the tears.

“I never realized it would be like that,” she choked. “I just felt so…I can’t explain it, but I wanted him to stop hurting. I wanted him to know so many things, and I didn’t know how to say them. I’m a writer and I was at a loss for words.”

“You did fine,” he assured her. “He understood.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.” He helped brush away tears with his fore-finger. “He’s not asking a lot. He just wanted to see you before he died.”

“He’s so different. I once thought he was evil, but I didn’t see any of that just now.”

“That part of him is gone, and soon the rest will be, too. Life hasn’t been too kind to Simon Brewster.”

“It’s so sad and I…I…”

He slipped his fingers through her hair and held her head. “What?” he asked softly.

“I wish I didn’t feel this guilt about my father…the man who loved and raised me.”

“Oh, Abby.” He kissed her forehead. “It will get better with time. Abe loved you all the years when you were a little girl, an active teenager and a young adult. No one can take those memories from you or him. Abe took those memories to the grave, and nothing will ever change that—not even knowing that Simon Brewster is your biological father.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested against him. Jonas was right. She couldn’t change a thing. She had her memories, and she cherished that.

“I think I’d like to see my mother now,” she whispered.

Hand in hand they walked to the truck. Before she got in, she glanced back at the house one more time. How much time was left? she wondered. How much time was left to know her father?

W
HEN THEY REACHED
her mother’s house, Jonas said, “You want me to come in with you?”

“No, but thanks for asking. I need to talk to her alone.”

She stared at the house with a melancholy expression. “I grew up in this house,” she said in a distant voice. “I learned to ride a bike in that driveway. My dad ran alongside of me huffing and puffing to make sure that I wouldn’t fall. I told him I wouldn’t, but he wanted to be there if I did. I roller-skated on this street and busted my knee. He carried me to the house and bandaged it. I got my first kiss on that front porch and I knew he was watching through the window.” She glanced distractedly at him. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You’re being human and dealing with a lot of raw emotion right now.”

“I’m just trying to put it all together…trying to understand my parents,” she replied. “This house has always been a cocoon where I felt safe and warm. That’s how my parents made me feel. I was so naive as a child. I didn’t understand fights and argument or drugs and drinking. There was none of that in our house. I thought they had the perfect marriage.” She chewed on her lip. “When I was about eleven, I went to spend the night at a friend’s house. I got sick to
my stomach, and my friend’s mother brought me home. I walked in the back door and I could hear soft music playing. My parents were on the sofa. My dad was in his underwear and my mom had on a skimpy nightie I’d never seen before. She was lying between his legs, and he was brushing her hair. I didn’t know what they were doing, and they were so embarrassed when they saw me. I told my friends, and they called me a doofus. They said my parents were having sex. I felt so stupid. My mother had told me about the birds and the bees, but I didn’t pay much attention. I did after that. It was the first time I became aware of sex.” She took another breath. “I don’t understand how all that love my parents had could have gone so wrong. How could my father move out? How could my mother turn to another man?”

Jonas didn’t have an answer for her and he knew she wasn’t expecting one. But he wished he could take that look from her face.

Finally, she swallowed hard. “Thanks for the jacket.” She fingered the embroidery on the lapel. “It means so much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, and yearned to say a lot more, but he didn’t know what she was ready to hear. He wanted to ask her to stay at his place. He cursed that part of him that couldn’t express his true feelings.

She reached for her suitcase and quickly got out. “I’ll talk to you later,” she mumbled.

Jonas gazed after her with a perplexed frown. She hadn’t kissed him goodbye. Funny how he’d gotten used to that. Was she pulling away from him? No. She just had too much on her mind. She’d call later.

A
BBY OPENED THE FRONT DOOR
and set down her suitcase. Her mother was vacuuming and had her back to her. Abby stared at the wall that had photos of her from the day she was born. There she was as a baby, a little girl, a teenager and a young woman. In all of them she was smiling. Her whole life was on that wall. Her life as Abe Duncan’s daughter, and it depicted everything he’d given her: love, happiness and security. Jonas was right. No one could change that. In that moment she knew who she was. Mr. Brewster may have given her life, but Abe Duncan had given her everything else…everything that mattered. She was Abe Duncan’s daughter.

Suddenly she felt light-headed and she knew it was because a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The sense of betrayal disappeared, and she didn’t feel guilty about her new feelings for Mr. Brewster. Her father would understand. If he had taught her anything, it was compassion. Mr. Brewster needed her now, and she’d go back as soon as she’d talked to her mother.

Gail turned and saw her. She let go of the vacuum and ran to Abby. The vacuum propelled itself into the wall and hummed louder. Gail didn’t notice as she hugged Abby.

“Abby, you’re home,” she cried. “Thank God. Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re home.”

Abby hugged her back and went to turn off the vacuum cleaner. She looked at her mother and didn’t know what to say. The years of her mother’s love and support filled her. When life got rough she could count on Gail to understand. Kyle was the only thing they’d ever disagreed on, and Abby wondered whether that had something to do with Mr. Brewster.
Her mother had wanted her away from Hope. She didn’t want Abby to get hurt. As always, her mother was trying to protect her. The Rios thing had just backfired. Abby could see that now.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Gail said softly.

“I know, Mama,” Abby replied, and sat on the sofa.

Gail sat beside her. “I wish I could go back and change things, but I can’t. Besides, I would never change your birth. You’re the best thing that ever happened to Abe and me.”

Abby picked a speck from her black pants. They had said these same words on the phone, but now Abby had to go deeper. “Was it hard keeping it a secret all these years?”

“Not really,” Gail admitted truthfully. “I considered you Abe’s child and I never even thought about Simon until he confronted me with what he knew. Then it all began to fall apart, and I was so afraid…afraid of losing everything I loved. That’s what made me do such stupid things.”

Abby studied her slacks. “I’ve been trying to figure out who I am.”

“You’re our daughter,” Gail said immediately. “You’re strong, independent, daring, smart, brave, beautiful and compassionate. Doesn’t matter who your biological father is, you’re still all those things. You’re still Abigail Duncan.”

“Yes, I’ve finally figured that out.” Abby glanced again at the pictures and knew that was true. So many memories. So much love. Those feelings gave her the strength to admit that a small part of her heart was with Mr. Brewster.

“I saw Mr. Brewster before I came here. He’s…dying.”

“I heard that in town.”

“It was so strange. When I looked at him, all the bitterness and resentment left me. He’s just a lonely old man who’s…”

Gail wrapped her arms around her. “It’s all right, sweetheart, to have feelings for him. I wouldn’t expect any less of you.”

Abby rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. “At first I felt such a betrayal to Daddy, but now I don’t. Mr. Brewster can’t take anything from me. He can only add to it.”

“That’s true,” Gail said.

Abby drew back, and they sat in silence.

“Did you drive home?” Gail finally asked.

“No, Jonas flew to Dallas, and I came back with him.”

“Thank God for Jonas.”

Abby raised an eyebrow.

“I have to apologize for what I said about Jonas. He’s a good person, but I didn’t want you involved with anyone here. I was trying to make you go back to Dallas. That’s why we argued about Kyle. I was desperate.”

They talked for a while longer, then Gail fixed supper. It was good to be with her mother again.

Over supper, she asked, “How are Aunt Sybil and Earl?”

Gail rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t mention that sister of mine. She now thinks I’m the loose woman of Hope.”

Abby laughed.

“But Sybil has her own problems. Earl moved in
with that woman he’s been dating, and Sybil is beside herself. The man is thirty-five years old, and she still can’t let go.”

“Good for Earl,” Abby said. “I hope he doesn’t give in to Aunt Sybil.”

“I don’t think he will,” Gail replied. “He’s really in love.”

Abby toyed with her food. “How do you know that love will last?” She asked the question that had been tormenting her.

Gail placed her hand over her heart. “In here, sweetheart. You know in here.”

“But you loved Daddy—and look what happened.”

“Love is also deaf, blind and stupid, and you have to make sure not to get caught in any of those traps.” She watched Abby for a second. “You’re strong, Abby, and you won’t do any of the stupid things I did. I’ve never had your strength.”

Jonas had told her the same thing, and maybe there was a grain of truth to it. Abby drew a deep breath. “I love Jonas, Mama.”

“Yes, I know,” Gail said.

“I’m concerned about the future.”

“Why?”

“He says he’s leaving when Mr. Brewster passes away. Brewster Farms has been his whole life. I’m not sure it’s the right thing for him to do.”

“Sounds like you two need to talk.”

“Jonas isn’t very good at talking.”

“Well, then, you
make
him, because that’s what happened to Abe and me. Our pride wouldn’t allow us to talk, and we hurt each other. Don’t let that
happen to you. If you love Jonas, go after him and tell him how you feel.”

She didn’t tell her mother that she’d already told Jonas she loved him and hadn’t gotten a response. She’d gotten one from his body, but she wanted it from his heart. If he couldn’t tell her he loved her, what kind of future did they have?

J
ONAS SAT BY
Brewster’s bedside watching him draw each ragged breath. The nurse checked his vital signs, and Jonas got up and walked to the windows. Brewster Farms lay before him like a patchwork quilt—warehouses, barns, equipment sheds, citrus groves and field after field of agricultural crops. He knew exactly what grew in each field and if it was harvested or not. He knew everything about the place and the laborers that worked the fields. Brewster had made sure of that.

As he watched, Stuart came out of the office and got into his truck. He was going home to Brenda and the kids. Family. That was important, but Jonas knew very little about family. He glanced toward the bed. Brewster was probably the only real family he’d ever known. On holidays Brewster had insisted that Jonas eat at the mansion with the family. It wasn’t idyllic, but it was his life.

The years rolled back and Jonas remembered other things…like the young boy that had come here so scared and lost. Brewster drove him from the hospital to the warehouse and showed him the storeroom where he’d sleep. There was a bed, a dresser and an area rug on the concrete floor. Clean sheets were on the bed and clothes were in the dresser drawers. That night he lay awake thinking of running away, but he
was sure the sheriff would catch up with him. The next morning he looked at the room a little differently. It was better than any place he’d ever lived and there was a small bathroom down the hall. When a maid brought him breakfast, he didn’t know what to think. Food on a regular basis was a luxury he’d never had.

Brewster took him to the fields and he loaded onions onto a trailer until his muscles ached and his back hurt. At lunchtime Brewster brought him a sandwich and something to drink. Jonas rode back to the warehouse with the other laborers, and a maid again brought him supper. He fell into bed exhausted. That daily routine continued for the next year. Each night he marked the day off on the calendar. One day closer to freedom. He wasn’t sure when he stopped marking days. Work, school and good grades began to occupy his mind. He didn’t want to give Brewster anything to gripe about because Brewster was always there watching him, pushing him, and Jonas was determined to never let the man break his spirit.

Looking back, Jonas could see that Brewster had shaped him into a man and somewhere along the way they had become attached to each other. Jonas had hated him at first, but even as a kid he recognized that three meals a day, clean clothes and a place to sleep was better than the streets.

The old man had given him a life, and as he gazed out at Brewster’s valley he knew that Brewster was the reason he’d stayed and Brewster would be the reason he’d leave. He would leave behind him his childhood, his teenage years and the years he’d spent working here. It would be over, and he’d be free to start a new life with Abby.

He was glad Brewster understood that he had to go. His life would be different, but he had Abby, and somehow he had to find a way to tell her how he felt. He wasn’t going to live without love anymore. He glanced toward the bed. He and Brewster were two people who’d needed each other in a troubled time. Now that time was coming to an end.

A
BBY KEPT WAITING
for Jonas to call. When he didn’t, she borrowed her mother’s car and went to the mansion. Maria let her in, and Abby made her way upstairs. There was no one in the hall so she opened the door and went in.

The room was almost in darkness, but she could see Jonas sitting by the bed just watching Mr. Brewster’s face. No wonder he hadn’t called. He’d probably been here since he’d left her at her mother’s.

He noticed her and immediately got to his feet. “Abby, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

And she’d been waiting for him to call. They definitely had a communication problem…something she intended to rectify. She stared at Mr. Brewster’s still body.

“How is he?”

Jonas shrugged and came over to her. “He hasn’t said a word in over two hours. I don’t think it’s going to be much longer.”

Abby’s throat closed tightly and she was glad she’d come—for Jonas and herself.

Jonas took her arm and led her to the bed. He bent down and whispered in Mr. Brewster’s ear. “Abigail’s here.”

Mr. Brewster moved his head slightly, and Abby noticed his right hand twitching. She reached out and
covered the hand with her own. His skin was cold and clammy, but it gave her a warm feeling. The twitching stopped and a contented look came over his face.

So many emotions welled up in her. Through the sadness and heartache, one thing rang true. None of the other stuff mattered. It all came down to a basic thing—human emotion. In her heart she had found a place for Mr. Brewster. She didn’t even have to think about forgiveness and the past. It didn’t make a difference to the way she felt inside. It didn’t make a difference at all.

She didn’t know how long she stood there holding the hand of the man who had given her life. She became aware that Jonas had pulled up a chair for her, and she sank gratefully into it. He sat beside her. Neither spoke. They just waited. Jonas got up several times to check Mr. Brewster’s breathing, as did the nurse who had come back into the room. Mr. Brewster kept hanging on, just the way he had lived his life—breaking all the rules with a fierce strength.