Return to You (15 page)

She put the turn signal on, and he looked up to see that they were turning into a small Presbyterian church parking lot. When she turned off the car, James noticed she had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel even though the car was off. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. Turning her head, she looked at him, her complexion pale. “We don't have to be here, you know that, right?”

* * *

It took a moment for her to be able to respond. Nodding silently, Selena felt a wave of panic begin to wash over her. What was she doing here? Why did she think this was a good idea, and why would she bring James here with her? What had seemed like a good idea, part of their healing process, now threatened to choke her. Her body began to tremble, and she suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe. “I can't,” she finally said and went to start the car again. “This was a mistake,” she stammered. “I'm sorry.” James's hand over hers stopped her.

“What's going on?” he inquired softly, doing his best to not scare her.

Selena turned to him, her green eyes a little wide and wild. She knew he was curious, and by the look on his face, she also knew that he was doing his best to calm and soothe her. “I thought I could do this. It seemed like the right thing to do, but now I…I'm not sure that I can.”

“Okay, okay,” he said calmly and took the keys from her hands. “Tell me about this place. Did you used to go to church here?” He relaxed against his seat as if he had all the time in the world to talk with her.

“No.” She shook her head. “My grandmother used to. Actually, I think she still comes when she can, and she's been a member here for most of my life, but our family was never a part of this church.”

“Did you used to come with her occasionally—like holidays or something?”

A small smile crept across her face and she seemed to settle a little bit. “When I was a little girl, I used to spend the weekends with my grandmother. My parents would drop me off on Friday nights and take me home after dinner on Sundays. We used to work in her garden and go shopping or whatever it was that we felt like doing on Saturdays, and then on Sundays, she'd take me to church with her.”

“That sounds like a wonderful memory.” James remembered a time when he used to spend holidays and weekends with his family, when he was younger, when life wasn't so complicated and it wasn't all about carrying on the Montgomery name. For years, he hadn't allowed himself to remember the good times they'd had together, instead focusing on the pressure and the arguments about falling in line and doing what was expected of him. Funny how one conversation with Ryder and spending time with Selena made him realize his life hadn't been all that bad.

“It was. On those weekends together, we would talk and laugh, and we were more like friends than grandmother and granddaughter.”

“You saw her the other day, right?” he asked and Selena nodded. “Did you want to come here because visiting with her reminded you of the times you used to come here together?”

“No,” she said sadly. “I needed to come here because it was time.” Taking a steadying breath, Selena climbed from the car and breathed in the cool air. The property still looked the same, and when she turned, she was surprised to find James already by her side. Wordlessly, he took her hand in his as they began to walk toward the grounds behind the church.

James was expecting a cemetery; maybe there was a family member buried here whom she felt the need to pay her respects to. As they stepped from asphalt to grass, all he could see were large trees, rolling green fields, and a large greenhouse. A sense of longing overtook him as he remembered the time in his life when having his own greenhouse, working with the land, and making something beautiful out of it had been all that he wanted. Was that what this was all about? Was she trying to remind him of the past that he had given up?

“I used to try to climb some of these trees when I was little,” she said, interrupting his train of thought. “Of course, they were much smaller then. But I remember how my grandmother used to get so mad at me because I was usually all dressed up in Sunday clothes and pretty shoes, and it was really no way to dress when climbing a tree.” Unable to help herself, she chuckled at the memory. “I can still hear the weekly lecture on how that was not a way for a young lady to act.”

James chuckled at the image in his head. To him Selena had always been such a girly-girl, and the picture of her doing anything quite so tomboyish made him smile. “No, it's not,” he said with a grin. “How far up did you make it?”

“Never very far,” she sighed. “Turns out I don't have a whole lot of upper body strength, and I certainly didn't have speed on my side, so by the time I actually figured out how to get myself going, Grandma usually found me and pulled me down.”

A quick glance confirmed that she was more appropriately dressed today. The jeans, sweater, and boots Selena had on certainly wouldn't hinder her movements. Without giving her a chance to protest, James pulled her in the direction of the trees.

“James?” she said with a laugh, trailing behind him. “What are you doing?”

“You're not in your Sunday best right now, and there's no one here to stop you.”

“Oh, you can't be serious! I'm too old for this sort of thing!”

“Nonsense,” he said as they stopped in front of the first grand tree they came to. Cupping his hand in front of him, he nodded to her. “You can do it. I'll give you a boost.” He could see a hint of excitement on her face along with indecision. “What have you got to lose?”

“My dignity for one!” she said. “What if I fall?”

“I'll catch you.”

“What if I get stuck up there?”

“I'll help you down.”

“What if I get scared?” she asked quietly, her eyes steady on his.

“I'll be right there beside you to protect you.” If it were up to him, James knew he would do that forever. Now was not the time to get into that whole line of thought though, so he did the only thing he could do. He taunted her.

“You're not…chicken…are you?” he said with a sly grin, knowing that Selena never said no to a dare.

“What are you, twelve?”

“Hardly. It just seems to me that if you truly wanted to climb this tree, you wouldn't be talking so much; you'd be up there already.” He was about to make chicken noises when Selena stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“You better not drop me,” she warned.

“You better not drag this out.”

She stepped into his waiting hands, and he lifted her until she reached the lowest branch and pulled herself up to perch on it.

“I did it!” she cried. “I'm really up here!” She shrieked with delight when James jumped and swung up beside her. “How did you do that so fast?”

“Practice, lots and lots of practice. It's a guy thing.”

They sat up there on that large branch, side by side, and watched the birds fly, the clouds move, and the occasional car drive by. Selena reached over and placed one of James's hands in hers. “Thank you. It's pretty amazing up here.”

“You do realize there's like another fifty feet of tree to climb, right?”

Looking up, Selena paled. “Actually, I'm fine right where I am. It's higher than I've ever gotten.” She looked over at his knowing smirk. “Baby steps.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Baby steps.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Selena looked around the grounds and noticed the shift in the shadows and knew it wouldn't be long until the sun would start to set. Time was running out to show him what she had brought him here for.

“What are we doing here, Selena?” he asked carefully.

“Let's climb down. I'll show you.” When she didn't elaborate, James climbed down and then guided her into his arms.

While she wanted to take another moment and just enjoy the feel of having him wrapped around her, it was more important for them to do what they set out to do. With her feet solidly on the ground, she took one of his hands in hers and led him back toward the greenhouse.

“Are we allowed to be here?” he asked.

“My grandmother was in charge of the committee who built this. They considered putting her name on it. If anyone stops us, I can use her name.”

James rolled his eyes. Because he was a cop, it didn't sit well with him that they were on church property with no one else around, but when she reached for the door, the knob turned without incident.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “It's never locked.”

That did little to relax him.

Once he was over the initial reaction to their possible trespassing, he looked around in awe. The structure was a thing of beauty. The Tudor-style greenhouse featured a steep roof pitch and many decorative touches. The wood-and-glass greenhouse had an efficient layout with lots of overhead plant-hanging space. James walked around silently admiring all that had been done with the space. It had a cedar base wall and decorative vents, and although it was maybe only twenty feet wide, it was nearly double that in length.

“This is amazing,” he said more to himself than to Selena. He touched the different plants as he walked, stuck his fingers in the soil, lost in the moment. If his life had gone as he had originally planned, he would have had something like this to call his own.

“James?” Selena said softly from across the room. “This is what I wanted you to see.”

Confused, James made his way over to her. There was something specific she wanted to show him? It wasn't the greenhouse itself? He caught up with her near the back of the space, standing in front of a beautiful, ornately carved park bench flanked on each end by two enormous butterfly bushes. He looked from the bench to the shrubs and back to Selena. “I don't understand.” He shoved his hand into his pockets and watched as tears formed in her eyes.

“After the accident, I couldn't stand to be at home much. I fought with my parents all the time, and once I was well enough to drive again, I used to do whatever was possible to stay out of the house. I went back to the routines of my childhood.”

“You spent your weekends with your grandmother.” It wasn't a question; he somehow knew it to be fact.

She nodded. “We would spend hours just sitting and talking. She knew all about you; well, I had been telling her about you ever since we'd first met, but she was the only person who continued to let me talk about you—about how I felt and all I had lost.”

It was like a sucker punch to the gut. Her voice was so soft, so frail, and he wanted to stop her from upsetting herself too much, but he knew she needed this, this one moment in time to share something profound with him. Patiently, he stood by and let her continue.

“Some weekends I would be fine and we'd shop or get our nails done, and everything would seem normal. Other times, I would just cry all weekend. Grandma explained to me that it was okay to grieve, that it was completely normal. But I needed some closure. She was the only one who understood that.

“She had this project going on at church; they were building the greenhouse and it was near completion when I started my weekend visits again. I would come here with her every Sunday after church and we'd talk about the progress and what was left to be done.” She touched one of the delicate blooms on the bush in front of her before leaning in and inhaling its fragrant perfume. “I don't know if you noticed,” she went on, “but the path outside is lined with benches similar to this one.”

He hadn't, but he looked over his shoulder and toward the entrance of the house and saw several. “They look wonderful,” he said, still unsure where this was going.

“Grandma and I picked them out. That was our job one weekend, to find benches for the path. The church had raised enough money for six of them, and those donors were each going to get a plaque put on their bench with their names on it. I thought it was kind of a silly thing, but it meant a lot to the people who gave their money for it.

“So we went, we shopped, and as we were walking out, I saw this one here, and I just sort of felt drawn to it. Crazy, right?” she said with a small laugh. “I mean, what sane person feels drawn to an inanimate object?”

“Lots of people do,” he said, stepping closer and really looking at the bench. It was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. The curves and the pristine white paint made a striking contrast against all of the greens and the colorful blooms around it.

“I remember turning to her and saying how if I ever had a garden of my own, this was the bench that I'd want. I didn't want a plaque with my name on it, though. No. I'd want it to remember someone I loved.”

And then he saw it.

In
loving
memory
of
Baby
Montgomery.

It felt as if a fist were squeezing his heart. His mind raced, his heart pounded, and his mouth went dry. He looked over at Selena frantically. She really had been telling the truth; no one would do something like this if they had done what he had accused her of. Hell, he couldn't even make himself think of the words he had said to her!

Tears streamed down her face, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He stepped in closer, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Without a word, she took me by the hand and led me back to the salesman, who had already rung up the rest of our order. She told him that she wanted this bench too, and to deliver it with the others to the church. I remember thinking,
Why
? Why would she take my bench? I thought she was going to let some other family put their name on it; I didn't want to share it with the others. I was completely emotional over the whole thing, and she let me rant and rave and carry on.” She wiped away her tears. “I didn't go back to her house for several weeks after that.”