Two of a Kind (35 page)

Sometime later, exhausted and dripping sweat, he made his way back to his house. As he stepped out of the trees, he saw his truck parked in the driveway.

For a second he allowed himself to hope she’d returned. She’d taken his truck last night because they’d left her car in town. But as he approached the vehicle, he knew she hadn’t been there at all. She would have sent Justice with either Ford or Angel to return it. She would take care of business. Take care of her responsibilities. But she wouldn’t be back.

* * *

FELICIA REACQUAINTED HERSELF with her kitchen. She’d been at Gideon’s so long her rental had ceased to be her home. As she opened cupboards and checked the pantry, she realized she was missing most of the cooking gadgets she’d grown to love. And the space itself was way too small.

She’d rented the small townhouse back before she’d known if she could make a home in Fool’s Gold. It was a simple, furnished two-bedroom unit with a small living room/dining room combination. The furniture was modern and masculine. The owner, a lawyer-type businessman named Dante Jefferson, had recently moved into a house with his new wife.

She heard footsteps on the stairs. Carter walked into the kitchen, still rubbing his eyes. He wore a baggy T-shirt and PJ bottoms. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were puffy.

“Get any sleep?” she asked.

“Some.”

He’d obviously been crying, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

“Are you hungry?” She walked to the refrigerator and pulled it open. “There’s nothing here, so I thought we’d go out for breakfast, then stop by the grocery store. Also, I want to talk to you about us moving. I rented this place when it was just me. I think we need a larger space. More living area and a bigger bedroom for you. Maybe a yard for a dog.”

He stared at her. “You’re really keeping me.” He sounded surprised.

“Carter, I told you last night that you can stay with me. I’m all in.”

“I’m all in, too.” He glanced around. “This place is nice, but the kitchen is too small. Where will you put all your cooking stuff?”

“I know.”

He shifted on his feet. “Can you afford something bigger? Because this place is fine if you can’t.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry about money. I’ve been earning my way since I was only a little older than you. I developed a few patents years ago. In addition to my salary, I get very nice licensing checks every quarter and semiannual royalty checks from technical books I’ve written.”

His eyes brightened. “Are you rich?”

“No, but we can afford a larger house.”

“Cool!” He raced to the stairs. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

She leaned against the counter and told herself that everything would be fine. She was strong and capable, and she had a support system. As soon as her friends found out what had happened, they would surround her with love and encouragement. And, most likely, casseroles.

She had no empirical evidence for her supposition, but she believed it down to her bones. Until then, until she was brave enough to let them know she’d been desperately wrong about Gideon and her ability to handle a broken heart, she would focus on Carter. On getting him settled with her and figuring out how to keep breathing through the pain of missing the only man she’d ever loved.

* * *

ON THE THIRD day, Gideon went into town. Without Felicia and Carter with him, he felt exposed, but that was the point. He was ready to take what was coming. To have the stones thrown at him. He knew he’d been a bastard and he deserved the punishment.

He’d hurt Felicia. He’d thought only of himself, of what he wanted, and never considered her feelings. He wasn’t sure exactly
what
she’d wanted or expected, but it hadn’t been to be dumped with no warning. He owed her an apology. Barring that, he should stay the hell out of her life. In the meantime, he fully expected the town to take her side.

He walked by the park and thought about stopping in Brew-haha. Patience was Felicia’s friend. She would sure have something to say to him. But before he got there, he spotted Eddie and Gladys, who waved cheerfully and kept on walking. A few other citizens nodded as he passed, some called out greetings.

No one was pissed. No one yelled. He couldn’t think of why, except that maybe Felicia hadn’t said anything yet.

His chest ached at the thought of her going through this alone. While he wasn’t sure if she’d fallen in love with him, he knew she cared. Felicia didn’t hold back anything. So she had to be hurting. She needed someone to talk to. He had to speak to Patience and make sure she knew.

He turned and walked toward the coffeehouse. When he was across the street, Justice stepped out and moved toward him.

The other man’s stride was purposeful, and Gideon knew this meeting wasn’t accidental. Justice had been waiting. Justice, who considered Felicia a sister.

There was going to be hell to pay, Gideon thought, more than ready to take whatever the other man offered. He wouldn’t defend himself. He would accept it, and maybe when it was over, he would feel better.

Justice stopped in front of him. “Come on,” he said, pointing down the street. “We need to talk.”

Gideon nodded and fell into step with him. He didn’t know where they were headed, and he didn’t care. Maybe back to CDS where Justice could work him over in the quiet of the gym. Or somewhere in the woods. He wasn’t concerned. There was nothing Justice could do that hadn’t been done to him already times a thousand, and in this case, he deserved it.

But instead of a dark alley—something tough to find in Fool’s Gold on a Wednesday afternoon—Justice stepped into Jo’s Bar and led the way into the back room.

Gideon avoided Jo’s. Too many people, too many lights, and during the day, a play area for small children. Justice walked past all that. When he stopped, they were in a much smaller space. One with only a couple of windows up high on the wall. Flat-screen TVs were tuned to ESPN and a car auction. A couple of old guys sat at the bar, nursing beers.

“What can I get you?” the man behind the bar asked.

He looked familiar, but it took him a second to place the old guy. “Morgan? Shouldn’t you be at your bookstore?”

“I will be,” the white-haired man said with a smile. “I have some work to do here, first.”

Justice took a seat on one of the stools. “What they’re having.”

Morgan poured two beers and pushed the glasses across the bar. Justice took one. Gideon ignored the other.

“You brought me here for a reason,” he said.

Morgan nodded. “Good. You’re not stupid. I’d hate to think of Felicia with an idiot.”

Gideon felt his mouth drop open. “You know Felicia?”

“Sure. She comes to my store all the time. She likes to read paper books rather than electronic books. I like that in a woman.” Morgan’s smile returned. “She has eclectic tastes.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Justice murmured.

Morgan rolled up his sleeve, exposing a tattoo of a girl in a bikini. “Got that in the Philippines. They do good work. That was after my time in Vietnam. Tough place to be for a farm kid from Georgia. Hell, before Uncle Sam drafted me, I’d never been past the county line.”

“My brother went over there, too,” one of the old guys said. “My number never got called.” He gave a grin and picked up his beer.

Whatever was going on, Gideon wasn’t interested. He started to get up. Justice clamped his hand around Gideon’s forearm, holding him in place.

Breaking free would have been easy enough. Gideon knew all the moves. He could have had them all gasping for breath in ten seconds. He eyed Justice. Okay, maybe that would be a more difficult fight, but he figured he had a fifty-fifty chance. But was that what he wanted?

Gideon relaxed on the stool, and Justice released his arm.

“Civilian life was tough,” Morgan continued. “My old girlfriend had married someone else. I hated the farm. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I took off. Hitchhiked around the country, did drugs, became a drunk. Somebody pulled me out of the gutter, and I started to get better. Then I met Audrey.”

Morgan smiled, his gaze looking past them to something only he could see. “Beautiful girl. Too good for me, which is who every man should marry. She was patient with my failings and loved me more than I deserved. But I couldn’t love her back. I couldn’t go there. The scars went too deep.”

He looked at Gideon. “I was a fool, and I nearly lost her. Came to my senses facedown in a gutter, barely remembering my name. I nearly died from alcohol poisoning.” He smiled. “That was thirty-five years ago. I have loved her every day since. We only had seventeen years together, then cancer took her. On her deathbed she made me promise I wouldn’t give in to my demons again. I’ve kept that promise.”

“I know what love does,” Gideon said, figuring the truth was all he had left.

“No, you don’t,” Morgan told him. “If you did, you’d be with that pretty girl of yours and not here drinking with us. Love makes you strong. If you’re brave enough to hand over everything you have and take that leap of faith. For me it was either love Audrey or stay in the gutter and die. You’re in the gutter, my friend. The difference is, you can’t see it.”

He could see it all right, Gideon thought. What they didn’t get was he didn’t care. He belonged here.

Justice tossed a couple of bills on the bar and stood.

“Patience told you?” Gideon asked as the other man turned to leave.

Justice nodded. “Felicia told her yesterday. The women had one of their get-togethers last night. From what I heard, it was lots of margaritas and ice cream and calling you a bastard. They’re all hungover this morning, so I’d stay clear if I were you.” He started to leave.

“Wait.” Gideon rose. “Aren’t you going to hit me or something?”

“No need to hit a man when he’s already down.”

* * *

GIDEON PUSHED THE button and started the CD track. The Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows” played in the studio. The same song went out on the airwaves, but he cared less about that. Tonight was about searching and hopefully finding.

He’d spent the day walking around town and his evening working out. He was exhausted but not tired, spent but not at peace. The ache inside him refused to go away, and sleep was impossible. He needed the one thing he could never have. Morgan had been right—he was in a gutter and he had no way to crawl out.

Without any conscious plan, he flipped the switch that activated his microphone. “Today, I want to talk a little bit about the past, about
my
past.”

He paused, not sure what to say next. “Some of you know that I served in our armed forces. There are things that happened, things I saw, that challenged everything I believed in. I was taken prisoner with other men. Good men who served with honor. They loved their country and their families. For a long time, I knew the reason I’d made it and they hadn’t was that they couldn’t forget those they’d left behind. They missed them, longed for them, called out to them. Racked with fever from open wounds and burns, they thought they were back home and reading stories to their children. But they weren’t. They were in a cell, and I watched each of them die until I was the last man standing. Because I was alone and I thought that made me strong.”

He didn’t have to close his eyes to see the other men. They were with him, always. “I don’t know why I made it and they didn’t. I only know that when my friends dragged me out of there, I knew I was never going back. I was never going to risk their pain. I had learned my lesson.”

What if he’d known about Carter, he thought grimly. How much worse things would have been. How—

Or was that true? He’d had nothing to miss, which he’d always seen as a strength, but he’d also had nothing to live for. Once he’d been rescued, he’d had nothing to keep him moving forward except the knowledge that he was alive.

Morgan had talked about being unable to fit in and how his Audrey had saved him. Would Carter have made a difference? Would Felicia?

The phone lines lit up. Gideon figured he was going to get an earful and pushed the first one.

“Don’t you think you’ve been punished enough?” a woman asked. “Gideon, there’s no reason to blame yourself for surviving when those other men didn’t. Only God knows the answer, and if you spend too much time asking, you’ll waste what you’ve been given. A chance with your son and Felicia. That’s the real crime. Not that you lived, but that you’re not living now.”

He didn’t recognize the voice, and he had no idea who she was. “All right,” he said slowly. “Uh, thanks for calling.”

The second caller was a man. “War is hell. Thanks for serving, son. Thanks to all who serve. Now, walk away from what you did and walk toward what matters. When you’re old and ready to meet your maker you’re not going to be thinking about what you did or what you owned. You’re going to be thinking about the people you love. So get to it.”

There were several more calls just like that, followed by what sounded like a teenage girl requesting less “really old songs and more Justin Bieber.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Gideon said with a chuckle and hung up.

He leaned back in his chair. This was what Felicia wanted, he thought, getting it for the first time. A community to care. People who would tell her when she was being an idiot and when she was on track. A safety net and all the other clichés about being surrounded by people who loved you and whom you loved back.