Return to Emmett's Mill. Kimberly Van Meter
invisible connection flowed between them, tethering him to the spot despite his desire to blend into the crowd. He’d paid his respects, nothing more was required of him. Perhaps…but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away as if he’d never been there. Good manners dictated he offer his condolences to Gerald Simmons…and to Tasha.
“Tasha…” Her name felt foreign on his lips, almost forgotten, but he knew that was impossible.
“Josh.”
His name came out in an astonished husky murmur that reminded him of other times, and for a split second he wondered how things might’ve turned out if different choices had been made. He glanced away, shoving his near-frozen hands deep into his jacket pockets, until he could look at her without distraction.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offered, his gut twisting at the pain he read in her red-rimmed green eyes before she concealed them behind dark glasses. “She was a good woman who didn’t deserve to die so young.”
“Yes, she was.” Tasha nodded. “She thought the world of you,” she said, drawing a deep breath. “And she would’ve been happy to know you came.”
“I’d heard she was sick. I was hoping for a recovery,” he said, noting the subtle differences in Tasha, none being uncomplimentary. She was still beautiful. Maturity had treated her well, accentuating her natural grace and refining her soft, cultured voice.
“Thank you,” she said, bringing her umbrella down closer to block out the wind that was wreaking havoc on her fine hair that hung loose to her shoulders, the moisture in the air bringing out the stubborn curl she used to hate. He remembered playing with the soft strands, twining them around his finger on lazy summer days spent down at the Merced River.
“You haven’t changed a bit.” The observation drifted out of his mouth and her startled yet instantly guarded reaction made him wish he’d kept it to himself. She gave him a brief smile that hovered too closely to patronizing to be taken at face value, and he sensed more had changed than he realized. “Take care, Tasha,” he said, and quickly moved on.
He was nearly to his truck when he heard his name called. Turning, he was surprised to see Natalie hurrying toward him.
“The wake is atmy parents’house. Please come,” she said, once she caught her breath. “Mom loved you like a son. You are always welcome in our home.” She hesitated, as if weighing her decision to continue, then added resolutely, “Tasha would like it, too.”
Somehow he doubted that. “It’s nice of you to offer, but—”
“But nothing. You were once friends. And, right now, we all need our friends. You know?” She finished with a smile that begged even though her words had not. Like Tasha, Natalie’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her nose pink from both the frigid weather and her tears. “Please?”
Against his better judgment, he nodded slowly and she exhaled as if in relief, her breath creating a gray plume of mist before them. “Then it’s settled. You’ll come. It’ll be nice. For everyone.”
With that she turned and joined Tasha, who was waiting in the new Honda sedan he assumed belonged to Natalie.
He knew the smart thing was not to go, but a part of him wanted to see her again. And that desire worried him. She was part of his past, not his future. That much he knew. But, as he climbed into his truck, his thoughts returned to the very place he didn’t want to go.
She’d been the cutest girl on the cheer squad and he’d fallen hard. He missed those halcyon days when his biggest concern was passing Algebra II and beating the rival football team at Homecoming. Theirs had been a clichéd romance. The jock and the princess. But it’d been great while it lasted. Too bad he’d been too dumb to see what a good thing he’d had. He shook his head, annoyed at the maudlin direction his thoughts had taken, reminding himself that life was what he’d made of it.
A heavy sigh felt trapped in his chest. What the hell was he going to say to Tasha at the wake when it was obvious they’d said all they needed to say to each other years ago? He should’ve been firm, but he’d never been the kind of man to turn a woman down when tears—or even the hint of tears—were involved.
Besides, it was the least he could do for the family he’d once considered as his own.
CHAPTER TWO
TASHA SHIVERED DESPITE the warmth caused by too many bodies crammed into the small house of her childhood. Slipping out on the pretense of needing to help Natalie in the kitchen, she removed herself from the crush of people and wandered away from the family room.
If things had turned out differently, would she have stayed? Raised a family like Natalie? Started a business like Nora? Trailing her fingers along the wainscoting, she detoured to what used to be her room. The plan had been to turn it into a sewing room, but it still looked exactly as she’d left it. Sinking to the single bed, she inhaled the unique smell of a closed-off room and her gaze roamed the corkboard where dozens of postcards were pinned. A painful smile formed as Tasha envisioned her mom pinning a new one to the board after she’d read it.
“I thought you said you weren’t coming.”
Her sister’s voice at her back made her wipe at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes before she turned and answered. “I wasn’t. Natalie persuaded me to change my mind,” she admitted, watching warily as her sister came into the room. “It’s good to see you, Nora,” she added truthfully.
Nora softened a little. “You’ve been missed. It’s been too long since you’ve been home.”
Four years. The longest she’d ever been without making a short stop in Emmett’s Mill.
“I know. I was stationed at a medical clinic in Punta Gorda and there just never seemed to be a good time to leave. They’re always needing volunteers. I didn’t want to leave them shorthanded.” She avoided Nora’s gathering frown, turning away with her arms wrapped around herself. “It isn’t like I can just call up a replacement, Nora. There isn’t even phone service in some areas. My job isn’t like that of most people. I can’t just leave. People need me.”
“Your family needs you, too,” Nora retorted, the anger returning to her voice. “Mom needed you.”
She turned, tears pricking her eyes. “I know,” she said, accepting the harsh look Nora sent her, knowing her anger came from a place of pain and grief. She tried reaching out, but the burn coming from Nora’s bloodshot eyes stopped her. Dropping her hand, she shrugged helplessly. “Nora, my being here wouldn’t have stopped the cancer. She was going to die whether I was here or not.”
“You’re right. But maybe if you’d been here, the last name on her breath wouldn’t have been yours.” Tasha startled at the revelation and Nora stepped forward, her voice beginning to tremble with the force of her anger. “Maybe if you’d been here, she wouldn’t have suffered through a broken heart, as well as the pain of the cancer as it ate her from the inside.”
“Stop.” Tasha closed her eyes, blocking out the tears coursing down her sister’s cheeks. What could she say? Nothing would erase the fact that she had been thousands of miles away while their mother suffered through pancreatic cancer. She slowly opened her eyes again as the silence lengthened. Nothing she could say would convey how sorry she felt, so she remained silent.
Nora wiped at her tears and then pinned Tasha with a look ripe with bitterness and sorrow. “What can I say, Tasha? You simply should’ve been here.”
“I know,” she answered quietly, though there was an edge to her tone. She accepted Nora’s condemnation…to a point. And that point had been reached. “You’ve said your piece, now let it go, Nora. You’re not the only one grieving, you know. I lost my mother, too.”
Nora’s jaw hardened and Tasha wearily prepared for another stinging backlash from her youngest sister, but to her surprise it didn’t come. Instead,