Susannah's Garden
Page 47

“He’s going to be looking for the extra twenty-five hundred in the morning.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not getting it.”
“But I—”
Her husband shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this. I have a few things to say to him, and if I have to bring in the sheriff, I will. Once I’m through with Troy Nance, he won’t be bothering Chrissie or anyone in this family again.”
The relief Susannah felt was instantaneous. It was a joy to rest on his support and his love. She should never have tried to deal with this on her own. They were a team and she shouldn’t have forgotten that.
Joe wasn’t finished. “First thing in the morning, return the rest of the money to Carolyn and give her a check for the other twenty-five hundred. I’ll have the bank transfer the funds.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Joe put his arm around her shoulders. “I wish I’d come with you.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Susannah bit her lip. “There’s more.”
“More?” He sounded worried and Susannah couldn’t blame him.
“Perhaps I should save this for another time?” she suggested.
“Does it have to do with the P.I.?”
Susannah shook her head. “With Jake.”
Joe leaned back on the sofa and slowly exhaled. “Ah, yes, Jake, the love of your life.” There was a hint of irony in his voice, and she couldn’t blame him for that, either.
“No,” she insisted, holding her hands against his cheeks, “the love of my life is you. It’s always been you and only you. For a while, I’d forgotten that.” Tucking her legs beneath her, she laid her head on his shoulder.
“You’d better tell me.”
For her, it really was the end as far as Jake was concerned. “Sharon Nance, Troy’s mother, told me Jake is his father.”
Her husband gave a low whistle.
“She seems to have been in regular contact with him. I don’t think I can believe everything she says, but she knew about the medal I’d given Jake years ago, so I tend to believe her on this.”
Joe frowned. “I’m sure she was trying to upset you.”
“Yes, but I don’t care anymore. I have you, and that’s all that matters to me.” And Susannah meant it.
“Are you ready for bed?” he asked, yawning.
Susannah nodded. “More than ready. I’ve been without my husband for a long time.”
Joe chuckled and helped her off the sofa. With their arms around each other’s waists, they walked to her bedroom, next door to where Chrissie slept.
Their daughter must have heard them talking, because the bedroom door opened and Chrissie appeared in the hallway. “Daddy?”
“Hello, sugar bear.”
Chrissie hugged her father close and Susannah noticed that her eyes were red and swollen.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Chrissie said, looping her arms around her father’s middle the way she had as a little girl.
“I am, too.”
“How are you feeling?” Susannah asked, wishing there’d been some way to protect Chrissie from this pain.
“I’ll be okay…. I just want to go home.”
“You can leave in the morning.”
“Good.” Chrissie returned to her room, shutting the door.
Joe took Susannah’s hand and led her into the bedroom. He made a disgruntled sound when he saw that she slept in a twin bed.
“We’ll cuddle close together,” she told him, nuzzling his neck.
“Really close,” he said with a laugh. Then he abruptly went still.
Susannah lifted her head. “What is it?”
Joe released her and walked over to the dresser. “Someone’s been here and left you a message.”
Whirling around, Susannah noticed the single sheet of paper taped to her dresser mirror. It read:
MEET ME AT 10 A.M. IN THE CEMETERY.
CHAPTER 43
“You’re going?” Joe asked the next morning as they held each other in bed. They’d slept that way for most of the night, as though they couldn’t bear to be apart for even a moment. Their love was fresh and new and they’d rediscovered their appreciation for each other. Joe was her salvation, her constant, and she was horrified at what a dangerous thing she’d done.
“Yes. I have to.”
“How the hell did someone get in here?” Joe had been brooding about this since the night before. “If it was that Jake guy…”
“Jake isn’t important to me.” All the desire she’d had to connect with him, to apologize for what her father had done, was gone. Whether he was Troy’s father or not didn’t matter to her. Jake belonged to the past, a past that couldn’t be altered or relived. She’d idealized him in her mind, canonized him, but he was no saint, then or now.
“I can’t,” she whispered, hugging Joe, clinging to the husband who’d loved her and stood by her throughout her temporary insanity.
Slipping his hand beneath her chin, Joe raised her face so that her eyes met his. “If you don’t, you’ll always regret it, always wonder. Get this completely out of your system.”
“Will you go with me?”
Joe’s chest rose as he considered her request. Finally he nodded.
That changed everything. Susannah could face Jake with her husband at her side. With Joe, she could look her former boyfriend in the eye and tell him that her father’s arrangement was the best thing George Leary had ever done for her. Only now did she understand that because of Jake, her father had lost both his children. Doug to whatever drug deal the two of them had been involved in and Susannah to anger.
By eight, Chrissie was up and packing. Susannah sat on her bed and they talked. “I really thought I loved him, Mom.”
“I know, sweetheart.” She bit her tongue to keep from reminding her daughter how unworthy Troy was of her love.
“I guess I thought my love would change him.”
Susannah had believed that about Jake, too. “What you loved was the man you knew he could be,” she said, drawing up her knees and clasping her arms around them.
Joe brought them each a cup of coffee and seeing that they were talking, promptly left.
“I was so angry with you because you couldn’t see Troy the way I did, and now I realize I should’ve been looking at him through your eyes.”
This was a giant step toward maturity for Chrissie, and Susannah had faith that it wouldn’t take her daughter nearly as long to recognize the truth as it had her.
“Everything I did was out of love,” she told Chrissie.
Her eyes filled with tears as her daughter walked over to the bed and hugged her. “I know that now,” Chrissie said.
At nine-thirty, Joe carried her suitcase to the car, and after a quick stop to see her grandmother, Chrissie would leave for Seattle. Once she’d spoken to her mother regarding the situation, even Vivian agreed that Chrissie’s living in Colville wasn’t a good idea. Susannah and Joe, arms around each other, stood on the sidewalk and watched their daughter drive off.
“She’ll be fine,” Joe said. “This has been a tough lesson for her.”
“Yes…” Susannah murmured. Growth was a painful process—as she well knew.
“Are you ready?” Joe asked. “We should probably leave for the cemetery.”
She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for this confrontation. “Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t leave my side.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Joe assured her. “If this clown thinks he’s going to walk away with my wife, he’s got another think coming.”
Susannah pressed her head to Joe’s shoulder and smiled, amused that he could even consider it a possibility. The man who held her was everything she would ever want or need in a husband.
They took the road out of town, neither of them in the mood to talk. The cast-iron gate leading into the cemetery was open when they pulled off the highway. As before, the note hadn’t mentioned where they were to meet. Joe parked near her father’s grave, which was close to the mausoleum, and they waited in front of the car, holding hands. It was still early; they had five minutes to spare.
Before, when Susannah had visited her father’s grave, she’d felt nothing but anger, venting her frustration at him. Her attitude was vastly different now. She smiled down at the gravestone, her heart filled with renewed love for him, and a sense of loss for the wasted years.
Joe’s hand tightened around hers. When she glanced up, she gasped. It seemed as if her heart had suddenly stopped. The world started to spin. No, this couldn’t be right—she must be seeing things. It was because she’d been thinking about her father….
Stepping out from behind the mausoleum and walking toward her was…George Leary. Only he was younger, handsomer.
“Dad?” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“Susannah,” Joe said softly. “It’s Doug, your brother.”
“Doug?” Tears flooded her eyes and her knees went out from under her. Her brother had been dead for over thirty years. She would have collapsed onto the freshly mowed lawn if Joe hadn’t grabbed her waist and kept her upright.
“I’m sorry to shock you,” Doug said, rushing forward, “but I didn’t know any other way to do this.”
“How…why…when?”
“Perhaps we should go back to the house and talk about this,” Joe suggested.
Doug frowned, looking uncertain. “Your daughter’s staying with you?”
“She’s gone back to Seattle.”
Doug nodded. “Good. I’ll meet you there.”
Susannah continued to tremble once they were inside the car. “He looks so much like my father.” Then it came to her. “Oh, my goodness, Mom…” Her mother had repeatedly told Susannah that she’d seen George, and she had seen him, a younger version of her dead husband. Her son. With her mind befuddled by grief and disorientation, Vivian must have believed that George had come back from the dead to be with her. It explained so much of what her mother had told her. How quick Susannah had been to dismiss her claims.
Doug arrived at the house five minutes after Susannah and Joe, and surreal though it seemed, introductions were made. Susannah brewed a pot of strong coffee. She needed it. Had it been later in the day, she would’ve reached for a shot glass. There were times the body needed that kind of jolt to cope with shock.
Doug was about to take a seat at the table when Susannah began to speak. “I thought Jake was the one who left me the notes,” she told him. “How did you get into the house the last time? I had the security alarm on.”
Her brother smiled apologetically at her. “I turned off the alarm. The code was easy enough to figure out. You used your birthdate, and I had the key from inside the brick.”
Of course. That was how Chrissie had gotten inside the house that first evening. Chrissie had put it back and neither of them had ever checked again. Susannah had forgotten all about it.