Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Noah

I felt like a Peeping Tom, watching Ella talk to her brother's grave. I felt even worse when I witnessed her interaction with Clint. He was a decent guy, and he must be divorced if he was asking her out. She had rejected him, and as she turned away, I'd heard the guarded edge in her tone.

I was happy about this—not because she had to be guarded, but because she clearly didn't want to go out with this guy. Of course, part of me wanted to punch Clint out and tell him to stay away from her. How dare he talk to her anyway?

Yet, Ella wasn't mine anymore.

Mine. There was a hollowness in that word that made my heart heavy. It would always be like that, because she was supposed to be mine.

Once both of them had left, I approached the grave and stared down at Greg's gravestone face. I bent down and touched the etched portrait of him. It always surprised me that grief could flare up so fast. For years, I had pushed it all to the side, been numb to it. Today, it felt so real.

Eight years ago on this day, my best friend had died. In total, I'd lost two best friends.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped and turned around. I hadn't expected Ella to double back; that was why I'd come over here in the first place. Despite racking my brain, I couldn't find any words.

No one could deny that Ella was beautiful. I'd been reminded of it yesterday, and all through the night I had been tortured by thoughts of her. She'd grown up, matured. The angles in her cheekbones were more defined. Her hair was long and wavy—a sharp contrast to its chin-length cut when we were young. Despite all these changes, her eyes remained the same. Those hauntingly blue eyes were like a dark sky before lightning struck.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated. She was glowering at me.

I took a step away from the grave and gestured to it. "I'm remembering."

She shook her head and paced in a circle. "Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be?"

I wanted to make this right, but there was nothing I could say. She'd made that clear when she had told me we couldn't be together because it would remind her how she had lost her brother. "I know I said it back then, but I'll say it again today; I'm sorry." It sounded weak to my own ears.

"I will never accept an apology from you." She pursed her lips. "Or from myself."

Cold swept through me at her words.

She gazed into my eyes, and my heart melted into a fluid that yearned to be in her hands, molded by her touch. It didn't matter how many years passed … she was still the only woman who could ever truly be in my life, in my heart, in my soul.

For a few seconds, she seemed to be calculating something.

"Ella, could we talk? I just want to catch up. To talk about you being back here, to … tell you how sorry I am about your grandmother?—"

She cut me off with a wave of her hand. "How long are you staying?"

The question took me by surprise. "A week. To check on my dad and comfort my mom." The answer was automatic, like something I would tell a military superior.

"Well, I'm staying for good, so it doesn't matter, then, does it? You're leaving."

I was confused. Did she want me to stay? Or was she pointing out how superfluous it was to talk to me?

She rushed away.

I stared after her, feeling like the ground beneath me had somehow shifted. How was I supposed to react?

Suddenly, little Jason and Trent were rushing toward me. Jason called out, "Uncle Noah! It's time for dinner."

I put on a fake smile. "Let's go."

It wasn't like this was something new. I'd never thought Ella would forgive me. I'd known that her losing her brother had changed all our lives forever. Sadness pierced my heart, but I didn't let it come to the surface. Not now. Not with my nephews here.

But why did she care how long I was staying?

We walked back to the parking lot, and my nephews begged to ride with me. At first, Damon seemed unsure, but he eventually agreed and put Trent's car seat in the back.

I thought about Ella and Greg for the next ten minutes on the way to the house. Today was the day I hadn't been able to save him.

Ten minutes later, we all walked into the house. I tried to focus on the present, on the activity happening around me. I'd always loved Sunday dinners growing up; my mom always went all out.

Kayla bustled around with an apron on, putting different things on the table. She paused next to me. "You okay today?" she whispered.

"Fine." I eyed her. Maybe she realized what today was. I wasn't sure, but she didn't have the same demanding edge that she'd had yesterday.

My father was sitting in the recliner, reading the paper.

I walked over and sat next to him, trying to act normal. "How are you feeling today, Dad?"

He lowered the paper, peering at me over the rims of his glasses. "Tired of people asking me how I'm feeling."

Ouch. I put my hands up. "Sorry."

After a few seconds of trying to read again, he folded up the paper and set it aside. "I'm glad you decided you could spare some of your very important time for your old man because I had a heart attack."

I blinked at his brash tone. "Uh. I guess I don't know what to say."

His face hardened, and he started rocking in the recliner hard enough to make it rattle. "Say that it takes a heart attack for you to come home for more than a day. Say that you think it's okay to shut your family out—well, except for Christmastime when you bequeath your presence on us. A time when I can't be angry at you because it wouldn't be Christian to do so."

"I wasn't trying to bequeath anything on you."

Silence reigned for a few seconds, and I was grateful that my siblings and nephews weren't paying attention.

Finally, I said, "I'm home this week, Dad. What can I do to help you?"

He let out a long breath, studying me. "Do you really want to help me this week, son?"

"Time to eat," Kayla called out from the kitchen.

I kept my gaze on my father. "I do. Just tell me what you need."

My dad stood, then snorted. "I'll have to think about it."

That was weird. I felt like he was using my guilty conscience as a way to leash me. It wasn't like my father. "Okay," I said, downplaying it with a shrug.

At the table, Jason pointed to a chair between him and Trent. "Sit here, Uncle Noah."

Happy for a distraction, I teased the boys as I sat, trying to pretend I was okay. How long could I keep the same old sadness about Greg and Ella at bay? Now there was this niggling annoyance about why Clint Long had been talking to Ella, too. Ugh. Plus, I had to deal with my father needing help but not telling me what he wanted me to do.

Everything was harder today because I was back home in Refuge Falls. I'd just seen Ella for the first time in years, and I hadn't been prepared for the deep sadness in those blue eyes. I had to wonder why she was divorced, who else was trying to date her, and why she cared how long I was staying.

Kayla eyed me. "How was church?"

"Good." I wasn't about to go into detail.

Across from me, Canyon grabbed one of the rolls and shoved it in his mouth. "Noah didn't even sit through Pastor Jones's whole sermon."

"Don't rat me out."

Mom gave me a pensive look. "You did leave early." But she was distracted by Canyon stuffing his face full of food. She smacked him over the head. "No eating before grace. Or you do dishes by yourself."

Canyon pried the food out and mashed the chomped bite into his plate. "Sorry."

Damon, who was sitting on Canyon's other side, cocked his eyebrow at me. We both grinned at Canyon's antics; he'd never been able to wait for his food.

Dad was already seated at the end of the table, and he folded his arms and shook his head. "Canyon, please pray."

After we all said "amen," the quiet of eating began. I always enjoyed that kind of contentment.

Kayla kept side-eyeing me as she munched. What was wrong with her?

My father looked at Jason. "What did you learn from Pastor Jones today?"

"Uh …" The boy pointed at me. "Uncle Noah likes mint gum."

That got Canyon and McCrae to laugh out loud. Even Kayla and my mother grinned.

Damon cracked a smile, then pinned the boy with a look similar to my father's. "Okay, but what did you hear Pastor Jones teach us about today?"

As if sensing that his older brother needed saving, Trent said, "Forgiveness."

Everyone seemed stunned, and I couldn't help but pat Trent's cute hand. "Good job, dude."

Without missing a beat, Trent asked me, "Can I have another piece of gum?"

That got another round of laughter.

"That's good, Trent." My father cleared his throat. "Forgiveness is a good topic."

My mother stared at my father. "It is a good topic." Her words felt heavy with meaning, but then she smiled at all of us. "Christ is the best example of forgiving those who put Him on the cross. And we should all follow His example."

My father's gaze dropped to his food. What had prompted my mother to chastise him? Was something going on between them?

McCrae turned to Damon, though he glanced at me. "Did you see that text that just came?"

Damon looked annoyed. I thought it must be something with the police station, because Damon was the chief and McCrae was an officer. He checked his phone, looked up at me, then grunted and stood. "We'd better go in."

"Is this about me?" I asked suspiciously.

"No," they said at the same time.

McCrae pressed his lips tightly together.

"No," Damon repeated, giving McCrae a warning look. "We don't talk about police business with anyone."

That was strange. It felt like it did have something to do with me, but how could that be the case?

Damon turned to my mom. "Can I leave the boys tonight?"

Mom beamed at him. "I would love that. Do you boys want to stay with Grammy?"

Jason and Trent both exuberantly agreed.

"Can we sleep in the treehouse?" Jason asked hopefully.

"Well …" My mother looked uncertain. "I don't know, boys. Maybe if one of your uncles or your aunt will stay with you."

"I'm out," Kayla said flatly. "I have a big-time client tomorrow coming into town to talk about land development on the east side. I need sleep tonight."

"Not it," Canyon said. "We're doing search and rescue drills tomorrow and then a twelve-mile hike."

My father cocked an eyebrow at me. "If someone wanted to help, then this is a perfect opportunity."

This was what the old man wanted? Help with the kids? "I've never watched these guys. I don't know if that's safe."

My mother laughed. "You can guard terrorists, but you can't keep track of your brother's children for a night?"

"She's got you there," Kayla said. "You afraid, Noah?"

"Bock bock bock!" Canyon laughed. "Chicken!"

"I'm not afraid. I just don't watch children." I swung around to address all of my siblings. "By your reactions, it doesn't seem like any of you can do it."

My father sighed. "We haven't had great track records with those sleepovers."

"Please!" Trent begged.

Looking at Damon in disbelief, I asked, "What in the world?"

Damon flashed a mischievous smile, then shook his head. There was a tired look in his eyes. "I don't even want to tell you, bro. Maybe we'd better not let you do it."

Well, if someone was going to tell me I couldn't do it, then I sure wasn't going to listen to them.

Jason put his hands together. "Will you? Will you? Will you?"

"Please, Uncle Noah." Trent pulled at my shirt.

Damon and McCrae were already picking up their dishes and leaving the table. Damon's eyes met mine. "You don't have to."

I supposed Trent might be a bit young to be out in the back end of my parents' acreage with just his brother. There were times when the highway felt uncomfortably close, and we'd seen stragglers walk onto the property. "I'll do it. You guys are just trying to psych me out."

"Oh yeah!" Jason gave Trent a high five.

McCrae pointed at me. "Watch those boys. They like to wander."

"What?" I'd thought they were worried about someone else getting to the boys.

Damon nodded and moved to the kitchen sink. "Boys, mind your uncle Noah."

"Yeah, Dad!" Jason gave me a wild look. "It's going to be so fun. Can we take the BB guns?"

Kayla laughed. "Damon, are you sure you trust Noah?"

I scowled. "Again, what is it about these boys that makes all of you think I can't handle this?"

My father's eyes twinkled. "You asked what you could do for me. Well, keep track of those two miscreants tonight. That will let my heart rest." He stood and moved toward the recliner. "And Noah, I have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday that I need you to take me to. I'm going to rest for a while and turn on the news."

I was thrown off for two reasons: first, my father wanted me to take him to an appointment; and second, my father had admitted he was tired. Trying to cover up my worry about him, I focused on the boys. "This will be easy time." I ruffled the hair on their heads. "Like Grandma said, it's not like they've been trained by terrorist forces. Those guys have more advanced weapons."

McCrae hooted at that. "Bro, you have no idea what you've signed up for."

"Keep telling yourself it's easy," Kayla said, shaking her head. "Maybe it will be."

Damon leaned in, speaking just to me. "Call me if anything happens, okay?" His expression said he wasn't joking.

"Are you really worried?"

He patted my shoulder. "Just don't get psyched out by the things Canyon and Kayla tell you. Seriously, call me if you need to."

I watched him walk away and felt like there were a lot of secrets being kept from me. Too bad I was running this op completely blind. I didn't understand the inside jokes or the looks my siblings were giving each other. I didn't know why Dad was pissed at me. He was right that I hadn't come home much, but he'd never acted like he really cared.

Staring at my nephews, I considered my situation. I doubted I could fix my relationship with Ella. I couldn't bring my best friend back from the dead or crack whatever was going on with my family. I could do this one thing.

So I grinned at Jason and Trent and said, "Boys, tonight we'll have an adventure."