A Holiday To Remember (14 page)

“Jonah?” She was behind him. Her hand settled on his shoulder.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but he could not shut out the comfort of her touch or the peace she threatened to bring him. The love and life and future he wanted so much with her tormented him. He would give anything for the chance.

But it was a chance he did not, could not, deserve. He saw the faces of the dead—his own team members, his best friend. His heart broke all over again.

“Jonah, you’re hurting so much. Let me help you.”

Her soothing touch and her concerned words burned through his pain. He tensed every muscle and made everything within him as cold and still as steel, trying to resist the need to give in to the comfort she offered.

He could feel the longing for peace tempt him into shrugging off this shame, in silencing these feelings of dishonor and guilt and to go on living anyway. But he was a man of honor, a marine with a soul-deep moral code and he could not turn his back on the past. He could not forget the men he’d fought beside any more than he could stop time and trade their lives—Benton’s life—for his own.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he bit out. It was only the truth. No one could save him from this. No one. “Just leave it alone, Debra.”

“I heard a little bit.” Her voice trembled. “You were murmuring in your sleep—”

“I shouldn’t have drifted off, but I was tired. Last night—” He stopped midsentence. He could not talk about last night and the dreams. Of Benton dying over and over again. Every time he closed his eyes.

“You must have dreams like this every night.” Debra didn’t give up or move away, but lay her other hand on the flat of his back. “No wonder you’re tired. Whatever happened, it’s obviously a heavy burden to carry.”

“You have no idea what went on. What I’ve done.” His throat choked on the words, making them impossible to say. He did not have the strength, the courage or the right.

“You are a strong, noble man with a big heart.” Debra spoke quietly but with absolute unwavering confidence. “What could you have done but your best?”

“You don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

“Because I’m a woman? A woman who’s never been in combat? I have a heart, Jonah. I can sympathize. I’ve read enough to understand. A soldier can be haunted later by what he had to do on the battlefield. The mind waits to process what happened until you are out of danger. Maybe if you talked about it—”

“No.” He tore away from her touch. “I can’t do that. I won’t.”

It was plain to see how deeply he was hurting. Perhaps he just needed to know he was safe. She took a step closer, lay her hand on his and gazed into his shadowed eyes. “You can trust me with your truth. I promise to understand.”

“You can’t understand. You think—” He grimaced, the image of perfect agony. “This isn’t something I can talk about.”

She felt his muscles tighten like iron beneath her fingertips. He radiated the kind of pain that she’d never known. It was a risk to tell him how she felt, but he needed her. She could not let him hurt like this alone. Her heart filled with the most tender, unconditional love for him. “I—I care about you so much, Jonah. Please, let me help you.”

“I said no.” He shoved away, breaking the moment, rejecting her comfort and, worst of all, putting the space of the shop between them. The distance seemed cavernous as he faced her but it could not diminish his pure male fury—not frightening, no, never that—but he looked every inch the tough, steadfast and hurting warrior he was.

The man she loved. Not a little, not a lot, but more than she could measure or describe or put limits on. Love for him filled every crack and fissure within her heart and spirit. A love that nothing could diminish.

Not even his rejection. He needed her now more than ever. Her love, her understanding, all the heart she had to give. “Jonah, please I—”

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he bit out, interrupting her harshly. His hands were fisted. His entire body tensed with coiled self-control. Only his eyes gave him away. His grief looked as powerful as a black hole where no light, no life, could escape. “I need you to leave.”

His words were like bullets to her exposed, undefended heart. She took a step back and froze, reeling under his hard words. That can’t be right. That wasn’t the Jonah she’d come to know. “You’re hurting, but I’m here for you. I truly am.”

“I don’t need you, Debra. I don’t need this.”

Shock washed over her. She felt her heart beat, air rushed into her lungs and tears burned behind her eyes as his words sunk in. As his intent sank in. He may be hurting deeply, but that wasn’t why he was pushing her away.

“But I thought you felt—” The words died on her tongue as he shook his head no, as if he knew what she was going to say. He was already answering her.

“No,” he said tersely. “I have been fighting how I feel for you. I have no right. I have n-nothing to offer you.”

His eyes were an apology, but his words may as well have been mortar shells falling. Debra lay a hand over her heart, feeling the devastation of her dreams. The rubble of her hopes.

I have nothing to offer you.
His words echoed in her mind. How could she have been so off track? Here she’d been starting to picture her life with Jonah in it—as her husband. And he wasn’t looking beyond the moment. Maybe he couldn’t. He was clearly in terrible pain.

“I’ll just be going, then. I—I’ll have Ben bring Mia by t-tomorrow to see the finished bed. It—it’s lovely, by the way.” Embarrassed and knowing she’d made a terrible mistake, she retreated to the picnic basket she’d left near the door. The wooden handle felt hard when she gripped it. She wished the shields around her heart could be as hard as wood, but her defenses were down, as they always had been around Jonah. He had the straight shot to her heart. Nothing could change that.

“Goodbye, Debra.” He sounded gruff, but it was his sadness she felt in the air between them.

“Goodbye, Jonah.”

She forced her chin up and held it together until the door clicked shut behind her. It had to be the snow striking cold against her face because she would not allow it to be tears.

“I
’m glad you’re staying for the Christmas Eve program tonight,” Ben said as he joined Debra in front of the Cavanaugh’s Christmas tree. “It means a lot to Olivia that her Aunt Debra gets to watch her sing.”

“It means a lot to me, too. She’s such a sweetheart. It was nice of Leah to take Mia with her and Olivia tonight. She’s very excited about the Christmas Eve program.” Debra slid the final gift she’d brought for the family under the tree and folded up the super-sized shopping bag thoughtfully.

Ben studied the rather sizable contribution she’d made to the presents already beneath the tree. “I see you’ve already started spoiling your new niece and nephew.”

“It’s a job I take seriously.” With the whirlwind of preparing for the holiday and keeping up with Mia and silently grieving Jonah’s lack of love for her, she hadn’t found the right time to talk with Ben alone the last few days. Now she had the opportunity. “When I first heard about you, I didn’t know if I could get past my initial feelings. I loved Mom. I used to think she could do no wrong. That she was the greatest woman I’d ever known.”

“I didn’t mean to cause you any hurt.”

“You didn’t. It’s been me. All me. I didn’t know how to process this. How to make sense of it. Mia said that those documents were found because of God’s intervention. That because we’d lost Mom, we were given new family to love. I didn’t believe her.”

He winced. “I had hoped that time would change that.”

“It doesn’t need to. I only had to spend a little time with you to feel as if I’d always known you. You are a lot like our brother, Brandon. You have Mom’s eyes, just like the rest of us have. I’m glad I’ve had this chance to stay and know you better. To see that Mia was right.”

Ben’s throat worked and he stared hard at the lights on the tree. “That means a lot to me.”

“You’ll find a special gift from me and the rest of us in Baltimore. We thought you might like your own set of our family pictures of our mother. She loved you to her dying day. I know this for a fact. I wish more than anything she could have met you. That she could have come on this trip with us. She would have been so pleased with your family. So very proud of you.”

Ben said nothing. His nod of thanks was enough. “I know we need to get to the church in a bit, but there’s something I was hoping you could help me with.”

“Absolutely.” She was surprised when Ben strolled to the little end table by the couch and pulled out its drawer. There lay a small worn book of Psalms she recognized and a delicate pearl-set cross. “This had to have been Mom’s.”

“I’ve always figured it was. It came with me when I was adopted.” Ben scooped up the book and cross and, fighting emotions, nodded once. “It’s good to know for sure.”

“Mom’s faith was deeply important to her. She probably gave you this because it was the thing that meant the most to her.” Debra struggled with the memories of her mother’s harsher side. Now she understood her mom’s sharp edge had come from a pain that knew no measure or end. Giving away a newborn infant, so helpless and precious, had to have broken Millie down to the quick of her soul.

Poor Mom, she thought, wishing she’d known. Wishing her mother would have trusted her enough. Maybe, somehow, there would have been a way to help her. Now the best thing she could do was to face Ben, her mother’s secret and her feelings over her mother’s shortcomings with love. Wasn’t that at the heart of faith, after all? God’s love for us. Our love for Him. Our love for one another. She was more of a believer than she’d realized.

When she finally spoke, her voice trembled. “Mom and her sister, Rosalind, had these identical books and crosses. A gift from their grandmother. Rosalind left hers to Mia. Mom never said where hers went and it wasn’t among any of her things after she passed.”

Debra felt her world changing around her and there was nothing she wanted to do to stop it. The shields she’d kept around her heart were cracking forever. The peace she’d lost long-ago came back to her like a rush into her soul.

Debra held out her hand to her brother, her mother’s first born. “It’s almost time for the Christmas Eve service. Let’s go. I can’t wait to hear Olivia sing.”

In the dark Tiny Blessings offices, Ross checked the face of his watch. The illuminated hands told him they’d been in place for nearly two hours. Any later and they would miss the Christmas Eve Service. He thought of his wife, who would be under the watchful eyes of his sister, Trista, and the assistant director of these offices, Eric Pellegrino. She was safe, he knew. His son was safe. That’s what mattered.

Still, he wished this were over. He prayed for Douglas Matthews to make his move so they could wrap this up. So the man could pay for his crimes. For Wendy Kates’s death. For Lynda Matthews’s treatment. And, most importantly to Ross, for the attack against his family. Matthews had made this personal.

And so had he. His muscles protested as he waited in the dark beside Zach and two other detectives. Zach was on his radio. Ross hoped this was it.

“Word is he’s pulled up in the alley.” Zach sounded steady as he hefted his weapon. They were all in Kevlar vests, locked and loaded. Ross owed his buddy big-time for letting him be part of the takedown. “We’ve got him on video, so let’s do this right. Take our time. Let’s get ready, boys.”

Ross was more than ready. He was so anxious for justice that he could taste it. He waited while his heart raced, until he heard the faintest sound. A footstep outside the back door. Then a quiet thump, thump.

Matthews was bumping the lock, Ross realized. It was a technique burglars used and it worked on most types of dead bolts. Apparently Matthews used his money to do more than pay to keep his secrets hidden. He bought everything—skill, information, you name it—he needed.

But the one thing he couldn’t buy was his innocence. He was about to go down for a long list of charges that would stick. There wasn’t a defense attorney that could get him off, no matter what he charged. Satisfied, Ross felt the tension in the room ratchet up a notch.

The door slowly swung open, letting in a faint fall of ambient light from the alleyway. There was Matthews, a black shadow against that light, wearing a ski mask to hide his face, but there was no mistaking the expensive Italian shoes he wore or his muttered curse as he debated his first move. Then he set the small bag he carried onto the edge of the desk and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling.

“I want to burn this place to the ground once and for all,” Matthews muttered angrily. “Those sprinklers have got to go first.”

The man intended to set the offices on fire again. In the dark at Ross’s side, Zach gave the sign and the team moved. The lights flashed on to illuminate the police unit, their rifles aimed at Douglas.

“Douglas Matthews, you are under arrest for sabotage and attempted murder. Put your hands in the air,” Zach called out as his men moved closer. The masked man gaped at them in astonishment. “Coleman, read him his rights.”

Ross marched forward and yanked off the ski mask. He wanted to see the expression on Matthews’s face. He wasn’t disappointed. Pure hatred twisted the talk-show host’s mouth and deadened his eyes. “This is the real face of Douglas Matthews.”

“You.” Douglas spewed venom as he was cuffed. “I can’t believe this. You ruined everything.”

“No, you did that yourself, Matthews.” Ross tossed the mask on the closest desk and watched with disdain as the man spit fury at the officers. “Say goodbye to your fame, your fortune and your freedom.”

“Well, Ross, we did it.” Zach grinned at him. “We got our man and the victims will get their justice.”

“I intend to make sure of it.” Ross had all the evidence the district attorney needed to make the charges stick. And more, he thought when he remembered Wendy Kates. He gave thanks right then and there that his wife and son had not met a similar fate.

It was over. The reputation of Tiny Blessings would be restored and his beloved Kelly was safe. When he thought of his wife and their son, tender love overwhelmed him. They were a blessing he would always cherish, protect and take good care of.

“You have just enough time to get your family to Christmas Eve services,” Zach said. “I’ll take things from here.”

“Thanks, buddy.” There would be more work to do to tie up this case, but it could wait. His family—and his love for them—could not.

He headed out into the crisp night and watched while Matthews was caged in the back of a patrol car. Then he turned his thoughts toward home and the happy holidays he would have with his wife and son.

When the Christmas Eve service ended with a final prayer, Jonah had never been so relieved. He’d done his best to concentrate on the program and on his dad’s sermon, but he couldn’t. The peace and hope and faith offered tonight hurt like an abscess. He’d gotten good at keeping his wounds tucked away. Until Debra.

She made him feel in ways he had vowed never to experience again. She tempted him with life and love and dreams fulfilled when it was the last thing he could ever deserve. He’d failed his team. His betrayal felt enormous against the contrast of hope and worship and faith on this holy night.

His every sense was tuned to Debra, who was far behind him and on the other side of the church, seated with Ben and his family. Knowing she was there rubbed like salt in a mortal wound and it stung so much he felt the heat behind his eyes. He could not bear it.

So he refused to look in her direction. Even when the congregation shuffled down the aisles and the murmur of talk and movements and children calling out surrounded him, he kept his gaze down. He headed for the front where he could make himself useful removing the nativity-scene props.

But as he worked, he couldn’t focus on the task at hand. Thoughts about the woman he loved plagued him, for he did love her. More than he’d allowed himself to believe. He felt like a shadow that did not deserve light and he could not purge the image from his mind of Debra’s touch trying to comfort him. Debra’s voice full of love for him. Debra’s patient steadfast understanding even after he’d driven her away.

If
he could let this guilt and grief go,
if
he could find a way to wrestle down this suffocating sense of failure, he’d ruined every chance with her. There was no way she would forgive him after what he’d done to her and what he’d said. He couldn’t blame her.

He was so lost in his turmoil, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. He wasn’t surprised to hear Ben’s voice calling to him. “Jonah, I got something for you.”

Please, Lord,
Jonah prayed.
Don’t let Debra be with him.
He’d hurt her. He was hurting too much to be strong enough to hold it together. He turned slowly to find Ben alone, holding a small wrapped gift in one hand.

“I promised Debra I’d deliver this to you after she’d left town.”

“Debra’s gone?” The air stalled in his lungs. Something stronger than grief hit him like an artillery shell, something more permanent than regret. It was the reality of love lost. The one chance for happiness he’d come across since he’d been back from Iraq. “She’s driving home tonight?”

“No, I meant she’s left for the inn tonight. She’s leaving for Baltimore in the morning. I was supposed to deliver this after she’d left town.”

Jonah took the gift wrapped in red foil paper with a fancy gold ribbon. It had the weight and size of a DVD.

“I’ve noticed what’s been going on between you and my sister.”

“Nothing happened.”

Ben jammed his fists into his coat pockets. “I was hoping something would.”

Nothing ever could. Regret shattered him and he wished this was something he could take to prayer. He wanted peace. He wanted to lay this burden down. But how? It would not be noble. It would not be right. He could not simply forget and push aside what had happened over there.

He wished—he prayed—that he could.

Ben shrugged. “Merry Christmas, Jonah.”

It was all he could do to get the words out to say the same. After Ben walked away to join his wife and kids waiting for him at the back of the church, Jonah was left with Debra’s gift in hand and the endless love for her in his broken heart. His fingers were already ripping at the paper before he’d made the conscious decision to open the present. He settled onto the front pew and parted the thick red paper to see the title of the movie staring up at him. His hands began to tremble.

“It’s a wonderful life.” Dad’s words seemed to come out of nowhere.

He’d been trying not to feel, not to breathe, not to feel anything, and for what? He failed completely. “It’s the movie I couldn’t find for Mom.”

“I wasn’t talking about the movie, son.” John Fraser looked weary as he settled onto the pew. “I’m talking about you. You’ve been sorely troubled since your discharge and I’ve been patient. I’ve told your mother we need to give you time. But it seems to me that you’re about to run out of it.”

Jonah crumpled the paper into a ball with one fist. The truth felt like a razor searing deep into his flesh. “I can’t talk about it, Dad. All the time in the world can’t change the past.”

“But it’s your present at stake. Your future. Anyone with eyes can see you’re sweet on that nice lady.”

Had it been that obvious? Jonah didn’t try to deny what was true. “I’m more than sweet on her, Dad. I love her.”

“Then why aren’t you with her?”

“It’s not that simple.” Jonah thought of the men he’d let down. “She wouldn’t want me if she knew.”

Dad was silent for a while. The church had emptied. The silence echoed around them. “Maybe it’s time you let go of whatever happened over there. What? You looked surprised. I watched you come back a different man than the one who left here for boot camp. Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of how you endured hardship and danger to serve this country. But I can see the cost.”

Torture. That’s what this was. Jonah rubbed his hand over his face. “Why does everyone assume I did good over there?”