Reunion Pass: An Eternity Springs novel (14 page)

The Callahan Security team had flown him out of hell to a military base in Afghanistan where he’d been debriefed by a couple of suits who had dropped Jack Davenport’s name. He’d told them the truth of what had happened, though not all of the details. Some things didn’t bear repeating.

Some things he couldn’t bear to remember.

Lana had joined him at the base. She’d run toward him, wrapped her arms around him, and hadn’t seemed to notice that he couldn’t hug her back. Then she’d started spitting out questions like bullets and he’d had to physically walk away from her. She, like everyone else who asked, got the bottom-line version—Bradley Austin and David Whitelaw hadn’t made it out alive. Their bodies were nonrecoverable.

From Afghanistan, they’d flown to the States where they’d paid private, soul-wrenching visits to South Carolina and Alabama, the respective homes of the Austin and Whitelaw families. He’d told them expurgated versions of the truth. It was the last time he intended to repeat his tale to anyone.

Hearing Lana take responsibility for the decision to send them on the ill-fated trip had helped ease some of the fury he felt toward her. Of course, nothing would ease the fury he felt toward himself.

They’d flown into Colorado this morning and passed through Eternity Springs ten minutes ago, taking the road past Cemetery Hill, which seemed appropriate. Now his parents’ house was only minutes away. Chase had mixed feelings about coming home. On one hand, he needed to see his mom and dad, his sister and brother. And yet … he didn’t know if he could manage to look them in the eye.

He was on a kind of autopilot like he’d never known before. It had switched on the moment he’d watched the bastards set the helicopter on fire and it hadn’t switched off yet. He was numb and grateful for it. If he started feeling … if he started thinking … he might start talking and say the unspeakable.

Beside him, Lana rattled on. “… people want to welcome you home, but I told them you’d probably prefer to keep everything low-key. Was that okay?”

He offered no response. He knew she didn’t expect one. Not at this point. At some point in the past nine days, she’d finally figured out that her efforts to engage him in conversation were futile.

“Your father said that the townspeople were wonderful. Super supportive. I told him you might be ready to have a thank-you party in a few weeks, but that you need some time to … well … chill.”

Chill. Yeah. He had chillin’ down pat. He was cold, cold through to his bones. He didn’t know if he’d ever be warm again.

The car approached the turn to the house. Chase felt detached from the moment, wrapped in a cocoon of numbness. Lana pulled up in front of his parents’ home and parked in the same place that Chase had parked in January when he’d come to deliver news of the impending trip. He gazed into the front window and remembered the Christmas tree. He thought of the comfort of his mother’s kitchen, his dad’s booming laugh. The heat of the hearth. The warmth of family life.

He didn’t deserve warmth. He deserved to be stone-dead cold. Like David and Bradley.

Lana switched off the engine and opened the driver’s side door. Chase remained seated, unmoving, as reluctant to exit the car today as he’d been that bitter winter day. Even colder today despite an outdoor temperature that was sixty degrees higher.

“Chase?” Lana stood beside the passenger door. “Darling?”

He stared at the house, gazed into the big picture window and remembered the Christmas tree. He’d thought about that tree and that window a lot during those god-awful days. He’d remembered his mother’s voice. Her warning. Her fear.
“That will give us so much comfort when you’re captured by terrorists.”

Mom was right. Mom was always right.

And here comes Mom.

Ali rushed out of the house, Mac close on her heels, Stephen and Caitlin right behind him. Chase knew an instant of relief at the sight of his mother, then the cold returned. He could never tell her what he’d seen, what he’d done, who he’d become. NEVER. Despair rose up within Chase. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked away the watery film that suddenly obscured his vision at the sight of his family.

His mother began to run, her arms open wide. A tidal wave of yearning swept over him, and Chase finally moved. Out of the car, he took three big steps and then she was there.

“Chase. My Chase. Oh, Chase,” Ali said, flinging her arms around him.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head against hers, inhaling her familiar scent, indulging in the comfort of her embrace. Then his father joined them, Mac’s big arms engulfing them. “Son. You’re home. Thank God, you’re home.”

Caitlin and Stephen joined the group hug, and for a few short moments, Chase allowed himself to bask in the warmth of his family’s love. All too soon, reality intruded. Caitlin asked, “Oh, wow, Chase. What happened to your neck?”

He stiffened and, in his mind’s eye, saw the flash of sunlight on the knife blade. The thaw begun by his mother’s embrace ended in a flash of frost.
Stone-dead cold again, just like I deserve
. He pulled away from them, saying, “I need to help Lana with the bags.”

Ordinarily, Lana never touched the bags. She was the boss, the star of the show. Today she had one in each hand, a guilt-ridden woman doing penance.

Chase vaguely noticed the worried look his parents shared, but he simply didn’t have it in him to try to ease their minds. He pulled one of Lana’s three suitcases from the back of the SUV and grabbed his backpack.

Chase’s mother said, “Are you hungry? I made lasagna and Maggie Romano sent us an Italian cream cake for dessert. I thought we could have a big lunch and a lighter dinner. Is that all right, Chase?”

Lasagna. Oh, God.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Bradley’s grin.
“I want your mom’s lasagna fresh. I want to go to Colorado and have it there. With salad and hot bread and tiramisu for dessert.”

“That’s fine, Mom.”

He didn’t care about dinner. He hadn’t been hungry since he saw David and Bradley forced onto their knees.

The family filed into the house, chattering away in a manner unfortunately similar to Lana’s. Chase wanted to scream at them all to be quiet. But he couldn’t begrudge them their happiness, so he pasted on a smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes and soldiered on through the afternoon.

He ate his mother’s lasagna despite his lack of appetite. He offered to help with the dishes because he knew that was a normalcy she would grab onto like a lifeline. When the doorbell rang and he heard the Raffertys and Callahans and the Davenports and the Murphys—Lori included—sweep into the house, their voices filled with concern and caring and gladness and joy, he did the only thing he could bear.

Chase grabbed his pack and ducked out the back door. He hiked away from his parents’ home, away from friends and loved ones. Away from comfort and community. Away from
warmth.
He didn’t belong there. He couldn’t bear to be around it.

He hiked a familiar path through the forest away from the falls, but toward a spot that offered a scenic view of the valley that cradled Eternity Springs. Upon reaching it, Chase sat cross-legged on a wide, flat boulder and gazed down at the sleepy little town. He tried hard not to think.

Chase wasn’t surprised when his father joined him a few minutes later. Mac sat beside Chase and pulled a couple of beers from his pack. Silently, he offered one to his son. Chase eyed the can and debated.
If I start drinking, I might never stop.
“I think I’ll stick with water.”

Mac nodded, popped the tab on his beer and took a long sip. “Want to tell me what happened over there?”

Chase let silence be his response.

“Okay, then. If not me, then someone else? A professional?”

“I don’t need a shrink, Dad. I need…”

When he didn’t finish, Mac prodded. “You need what?”

“I wish I knew.” Chase scooped up a handful of loose pebbles and began tossing them one by one off the side of the mountain. “I thought maybe I could come here and Eternity Springs would work its mojo on me. I’d hoped that I’d get here and life would be normal again. I’d feel normal again. But that didn’t happen. Dad … I can’t stay.”

Mac frowned. “You’ve only been here a few hours. Give it some time. I’ll be honest, your mother needs you to stay, Chase.
I
need you to stay. For a few days, at least. These last few weeks have been very hard. We need to spend some time with you.”

The old me, perhaps.
They didn’t understand that the Chase they knew and loved had died in the mountains of Chizickstan as surely as had Bradley and David.

He gestured down toward the town. “Look at it, Dad. A pretty little town in a pretty little valley. Your house may sit up on a mountain, but it’s still part of that world. Eternity Springs is an oasis of light in a really dark world. I like looking at it. But, I’m outside. I’m apart. I don’t belong there. I can’t sit in your kitchen with Lana and eat Mom’s lasagna like everything is the same as it was before. Nothing is the same. I’m definitely not the same. I don’t want to hurt you and Mom any more than I’ve already hurt you, but I can’t stay at Heartache Falls.”

Mac mimicked his son’s actions by gathering up a handful of pebbles and tossing them out into space. “First, you need not worry about hurting your mother and me. We love you and we want what’s best for you. If what’s best for you is being by yourself in order to get your head on straight, then we will deal with it. We do understand the concept, after all. That’s why your mother came to Eternity Springs the first time.

“However, I might have a solution that would suit us both. We didn’t rent out the yurt this summer. Why don’t you go stay up there? I’ll run interference with family and friends and see that you get the space you need. At the same time, your mother and I will feel better knowing you’re only a short hike away.”

Chase grew still. When his father bought the acreage for their Heartache Falls home from a local character named Bear a few years ago, the purchase had included the yurt—a circular tent that already had all the comforts of home. Mac and Ali lived there while they planned and built their dream house and, in the process, added amenities that made the yurt downright luxurious. The Timberlakes often loaned the yurt out to friends for romantic getaways, and in recent years, they’d rented it out to summer tourists. The yurt was isolated, but within hiking distance of his parents’ house.

“People have to make an extra effort to drop by the yurt,” Mac continued. “It might be just the ticket for you.”

“Yes. It’s a great idea, Dad. Thanks.”

Mac visibly relaxed and, for the first time since joining Chase, smiled. “If Lana has any objections, your mother will be happy to assure her about the comfort of—”

“No,” Chase interrupted. Everything within him rebelled at the idea of sharing the yurt with Lana. It was too small a space. She was too … noisy.

He needed to be alone. He should send her away, tell her to go back to New York, but he simply didn’t have the energy to do it. He sucked in a deep breath, then asked, “Could she stay at your place?”

Mac hesitated only a second. “Sure.”

“Okay. Thanks. Okay.”

Mac threw the last of his pebbles over the cliff. “I can’t begin to tell you how much support our friends and neighbors gave us while you were missing. Lots of prayers sent up on your behalf. I know they’re anxious to see you. You up to going back to the house and saying a quick hello?”

Chase knew it was the right thing to do, but the thought of being in a crowd of well-wishers overwhelmed him. “Will you give them my regrets?”

Mac hesitated. “Our friends are one thing, but you need to have a conversation with your lady. It’s not my place to tell her she’s not welcome at the yurt.”

No, he didn’t suppose it was. Chase dropped his head back and lifted his face toward the sky. “You’re right. Lana is my responsibility.” He might as well go back to the house and face the whole damned symphony. “I’ll come back to the house with you now.”

The process was excruciating. Chase returned to his parents’ home, accepted hugs and handshakes from friends, and expressed his thanks for their prayers and support of his family. Lana remained at his side throughout.

Lori kept her distance.

She approached him only once as the gathering broke up and visitors began to make their way back to their cars. He recognized the bracing breath she took before she walked up, nodded to Lana, and met his gaze. “Welcome home, Chase.”

A lump of emotion clogged his throat, and he cleared it. “Thanks.”

She turned a smile toward Lana. “I love your sundress.”

“Why, thank you. Yellow is my favorite color. It’s so happy, don’t you think?”

The words triggered a memory that had Chase’s gaze dropping to Lori’s breasts.

It was during the first summer that they dated.

They lay upon an old tattered quilt spread out on a hidden alpine meadow dotted with wildflowers. A picnic basket anchored one corner of the quilt, Chase’s hiking boots another. Lori’s dark hair lay fanned around her head. Moisture glistened on her kiss-swollen lips. When his nimble fingers slipped the last of her shirt buttons free, he caught his first daytime sight of her full, luscious breasts bound by a silky bra of transparent yellow silk. “Yellow is my favorite color.”

Today, Chase jerked his gaze up from her chest, past her blushing cheeks, and momentarily lost himself in the mountain forests of her green eyes.
She remembers, too.

Thinking about those eyes had kept him sane once or twice in the past month.

Lana took a half step closer to him and possessively slipped her arm around his waist. “Thanks for coming, Lori. I know Chase appreciates it. Right, darling?”

Instead of answering Lana, he asked Lori, “Did you graduate?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Now, I’d better hurry or I’ll miss my ride back to town.”

When Lori followed her mother out the front door, Chase shook off Lana’s hold and his own steps headed for the back. The need to be outside, alone, away from all the smiles and looks of concern and … touches … overwhelmed him.