The Dark Side of the Rainbow (20 page)

“The pain. I have a clean slate, nothing to cause me sorrow. Yet, I feel it lurking in the dark.”

How many times had Landon wished for a clean slate, to wake up one day with the ability to forget what had happened to Jacob Nelson.

Brooke was living his dream, but not remembering all of the things that were good about her past life would be tragic. He wouldn’t give up the last two weeks with Brooke, nor the lifetime of memories with his family, for a clean slate, and he wouldn’t let her do the same.

“There is always pain, Brooke, but there is also good. There are people in your past whom you loved that come with a trove of wonderful moments. You will want to remember them.”

Searching his eyes, she asked, “How can you be sure? What if I was abused and neglected? What if I had no one to love or to love me?”

“Everyone always has someone. If you could remember whom that someone was and how happy they made you, you wouldn’t want to ever forget, no matter how painful the rest of the remembering is. Trust me, Brooke.”

She did trust him. His words gave her hope, something she clung to as she felt the sorrow of leaving Landon’s constant presence these past seventy-two hours. She would miss being with him every waking moment.

T
he following day, Brooke met Natasha for the first time. It was Sunday, and after reviewing the Grand Vue’s financial statements that she deciphered with ease, Landon invited her to join him for family dinner at his sister’s house.

She had been reintroduced to Gaston on Friday when she and Landon had dinner in the dining room. Before taking their seats, they had stopped by the kitchen to say hello.

As they drove to his sister’s house that afternoon, Brooke was able to admire the scenery for the first time. Even through the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she could tell it was stunning.

“I must have been an accountant at some point,” Brooke said to Landon as she faced the window.

“From the sound of things, I imagine you were a CPA. You knew higher level accounting practices. It’s probably what you did to support yourself while you did what you loved.”

Brooke turned to look at him. “Do you do what you love?”

He nodded. “I’m blessed to have the opportunity, but I had to work for it. Before I became the head of the company’s South American Division, Natasha was the president. She put me through the paces, making me earn my right to take the reins.”

Landon told her about the deal he had brokered with Adler Cromwell. “I’ll never forget the look on his face when I knew I had him. I’ll always remember how good it felt to seal that deal. It was then that Natasha knew I was ready. Not too long after, she fell in love with Gaston and then had Isabel. She didn’t want to continue working.”

“She didn’t want to be like your mom,” she guessed.

“No, she didn’t. My sister is a terrific mother, and Gaston thinks the world of her.” He glanced down at the camera bag Brooke held in her lap. “She’ll appreciate that you want to take pictures of the family. Speaking of which, before we go to Chile, there is someone else you have to photograph.”

“Yeah, who’s that?”

Landon told her about Carlos and the offer she had made to take pictures of his new granddaughter.

“I would like that! As you well know, my schedule is wide open at the moment, so make whatever arrangements work best for you and him. I should be able to take my sunglasses off in the next few days.”

A few moments later, Landon was turning the white metallic Maserati left, up a winding road. Upon cresting the small hill, Brooke could see a large stone and wood house looming in the distance. The structure supported large windows on the two sides facing the road.

When Landon led her through the front door, the photographer heard the screech of joy before she saw the brunette bundle of energy colliding into Landon.

“Uncle Landon, you’re here.”

He picked up his niece with ease. “Hi, sweetie pie! I’ve missed you.” He kissed her on the lips.

“I’ve missed you too, and so has Nicholas.”

Right on cue, Brooke saw a toddler, who appeared to be around two, running toward him, crying at the top of his lungs, “Lanin, Lanin here!”

With his free arm, Landon scooped up the little boy and kissed him too.

“Where’s your mom?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” replied Isabella.

He sat the children down, then looked at Brooke.

“Isabella and Nicholas, I want you to meet my friend Brooke. Can you say hi?”

His niece reached out her hand. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Brooke took the child’s small hand in hers. “The pleasure is all mine. You’re as adorable as your uncle said you were.”

Isabella looked up at Landon, saying in a matter-of-fact way, “He always says that.”

“He probably tells her more than he should,” came a voice from the back of the house.

Brooked looked toward the sound and saw a taller-than-average blonde walking toward them, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. The woman was beautiful but unpretentious. She didn’t look as if she had walked off the cover of a magazine, with every hair in place. She looked normal.

“You must be Brooke. I’m Natasha. It’s nice to meet you. Sorry for the messy hands,” she stated as she held one out toward Landon’s friend.

“It’s very nice to meet you, and thank you for having me.”

“We’re always happy to have friends. How are you feeling?” Natasha inquired with a touch of concern.

“I am much better. When I first woke up in the hospital, I didn’t think I would survive, my head hurt so badly. Each day it is improving.”

Natasha smiled before looking toward Landon and the kids, who were already climbing all over him. “The kids will want a hundred percent of my brother’s attention for the next ten minutes, and he’ll give it to them. Would you like to join me in the kitchen? We can talk while we’re waiting for dinner to be ready. Gaston had to run to the store for a quick errand. He should be here soon.”

“I would like that.” Brooke fell into step with Natasha as she made her way through the great room to the kitchen. “Your house is gorgeous. Wow! What a stunning kitchen!” she exclaimed as she looked around at the light sage green cabinets topped with a deep brown granite. Brooke could tell the stainless steel appliances were gourmet-rated with all the bells and whistles. The hood over the range was massive but appropriate for the size of the room. It didn’t surprise her to see such a kitchen in the home of a world- renowned chef.

“Thank you. Having a chef for a husband makes it easier to get the things you want. I only first began cooking about seven years ago when I fell in love with Gaston. If I was going to be a stay-at-home mom, I wanted to do the cooking. The first time Gaston tasted something I made, he insisted on doing the meals or bringing food from the restaurant. He assured me that it was no trouble at all. I insisted that he teach me. To my relief and his surprise, he actually enjoys my food. How about you? Do you cook?”

As soon as Natasha asked the question, she remembered her memory loss and realized her mistake. “I’m sorry; how insensitive of me.”

Brooke was leaning against the counter while Landon’s sister prepped a salad. “Please don’t apologize. It’s a normal question and easy to forget my condition. I don’t remember anything about myself before I awoke. However, hearing about your progress as a cook gives me hope.”

With arched eyebrows, Natasha continued to tear at the romaine lettuce. “I’m glad I could help, but what do you mean?”

Brooke told her about the lasagna she had prepared earlier in the week.

“I think with a few lessons and tips you’ll do fine on your next attempt. Perhaps we could plan a time to get together?”

Pleased by the offer, Brooke agreed to the idea.

“Get together for what?” Landon asked as he entered the kitchen. He made his way over to his sister and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Brooke told me about the lasagna she made.”

He smiled at the memory, impressed that she would willingly tell a virtual stranger about something she wasn’t good at doing.

“Landon would have eaten the whole plate if I hadn’t taken it from him,” Brooke added, laughing at the memory.

Finished with the salad, Natasha reached for the pot holders. “There is no doubt he would have. That’s the kind of person he is.”

Brooke noticed the soft look exchanged between brother and sister and knew there was more to the unspoken message that only history could interpret without words. It touched her.

When Natasha bent to retrieve something from the oven, the door to the kitchen opened and in walked Gaston holding a bag.

“Hey,” Landon greeted.

The sound of the door opening must have alerted the children that their father had arrived. They ran toward him as fast as their little legs could carry them. Isabella reached him first.

“Papa, you’re home! Look who’s here.”

“I see, ma belle. Your uncle has brought a friend. She is very nice, no, and she is Irish.”

At the mention of her untruth, Brooke turned two shades of red. She looked at the Frenchman and was about to explain her little charade, but Landon interrupted, saving her from having to confess. “I meant to tell you on the ship that we were having a little fun with you. I told her what you thought about the Irish and their cooking.”

Gaston placed the bag he was holding on the counter. “And why would you tell her such a thing? Unless you went to . . . No, please tell me you did not take her there.”

Brooke couldn’t tell if Landon was reacting to his brother-in-law’s words.

“How do you expect me to not be offended by your actions?” Gaston asked with grave disappointment.

Looking at Natasha and seeing the sparkle in her eye and the twitching of her lips, Brooke knew Gaston really wasn’t upset. Feeling relieved, she stepped back to enjoy the show.

Glancing upward in slight exasperation, Landon remarked, “I know, I know, they should stick with making beer. I happen to like the chef’s cooking, but it doesn’t mean I like his food better than yours.”

“Humph,” Gaston retorted, before storming out of the kitchen.

Looking sheepish and remorseful, Landon glanced at Natasha. “Have I told you how touchy your husband is about food?”

A few seconds later, the chef came strolling back into the kitchen. “How is it that you Americans say it—‘gotcha’?” Smiling, he added, “I knew the whole time what had happened.” He glanced at Brooke. “You confessed to me after dinner the first night on the ship. As recompense, I asked you to not tell Landon I knew in order to get him back.”

Over dinner they all had a good laugh over the whole Dragonfly charade, along with a good healthy debate about food at the lovely restaurant. For their meal, Natasha had prepared a leg of lamb marinated in olive oil and Herbs de Provence, served with buttered baby fingerling potatoes and homemade Caesar salad.

The conversation drifted to the issue of the Lake House accounts and the upcoming trip to Chile. Landon mentioned that Brooke would be joining him and Tomas. It would give her an opportunity to take some pictures of the neighboring country.

“You’ll enjoy Chile, Brooke.” Gaston wiped his mouth with a pale blue linen napkin before leaning back in his chair. “Natasha and I go there often and we always enjoy our stay. They have beautiful beaches and, in some ways, their part of Patagonia rivals ours.”

“I’m looking forward to the trip.” Brooke took a sip of her chardonnay, appreciating the easy manner of Landon’s family.

Natasha glanced at her brother. “Very astute of you to catch the discrepancy. It’s unlikely they are legitimate, so it’s wise that you’re looking into things.”

“I hope we’re wrong.”

“Me too,” his sister responded. “I probably should get the kids to bed and then I’ll make coffee and we’ll have dessert.”

“I’ll take them,” Landon offered.

“Thanks.” Glancing at Brooke, Natasha offered, “If you want, make yourself comfortable in the living room while Gaston and I clean up the dishes.”

“Would you like for me to take some pictures of the children before they go to bed? Or we could do it another time, if it’s too late,” Brooke offered.

Considering, Natasha replied. “That would be great! How about a few candid shots of them playing in the living room? They might be too tired to pose. Then maybe we can plan a time for you to come back?”

“I would like that.”

The children are delightful
, Brooke thought as she clicked several pictures of them playing on the floor in the living room. Nicholas was a blur of energy and in constant motion, which made for some great shots. Isabella was a little helper, ever watching over her little brother. It reminded her of the relationship between Landon and Natasha. When she was done, their uncle whisked them off to bed while their mom and dad made their way to the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Brooke offered.

“Not at all. Relax; we’ll be done with clean up soon.”

When they disappeared around the corner, Brooke put on her coat before making her way to the sliding glass door that led to the deck. She was greeted by a full moon, its light reflecting brightly off the snowcapped mountains.

As she took in the view, in some odd way she knew she was happy here in this faraway land, as if she hadn’t been happy in a long time. Brooke wondered if she would experience flashes of her memory. The doctor had mentioned it as a possibility. Instead, she felt surges of emotions, feelings that made their way inside of her, settling as if they were speaking to her from the distance of her past.

Remembering the conversation she had with Landon the day before, about people she loved and who had loved her, caused her to close her eyes and search for the faceless people of her previous life. All she saw was emptiness; but she felt them, as strongly as she felt the pain that she knew was very real. Would she be able to handle whatever tragedy was imbedded in the history of her life?

There was something about seeing Landon and Natasha together that brought about another flash of emotion—longing. Did she have a sibling that she had loved the way they loved each other? The possibility brought understanding to the words Landon had spoken the day before about how the pain would be worth remembering all the wonderful memories. He had spoken the words as if he knew from firsthand experience. Was his confident response based on the horrific thing he had done? Had Natasha helped him to remember the good times while he struggled with his own pain?