Never Say Goodbye

“It’s far from perfect,” Seth replied bluntly. “Most guys don’t last more than a few weeks. It’s hard work. Dirty work. And the pay’s not great.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work. Or dirt. And I don’t need much money.”

Seth considered that answer for a moment. “You have any family?”

A spasm of pain ricocheted through Scott’s eyes. “I have a sister and brother-in-law in Chicago. And three nephews.”

Seth glanced pointedly at the wedding ring on Scott’s left hand. “That it?”

Scott drew an unsteady breath. “I also have a wife. In name, at least. She doesn’t believe in divorce. But she never wants to see me again.”

“Too bad. It helps to have family and friends around when you get out. But a lot of people can’t handle the stigma of being associated with an ex-con.”

“Jess isn’t like that.”

Seth’s eyebrows rose. “But she never wants to see you again.”

Scott swallowed past the lump in his throat. “For good reason. I made some bad mistakes.”

“You also paid for them.”

“In the eyes of society, maybe. I’m not sure about in the eyes of God.”

Seth considered that for a moment. “How long were you in?”

“Three years.”

“What did you do before?”

“I was in marketing.”

When he named the company, Seth’s eyebrows rose. “Were you in for one of those white-collar crimes?”

Scott frowned. “Didn’t Reverend Young tell you?”

Seth shrugged. “Didn’t ask. Doesn’t matter. I judge people by who they are now, not what they did years ago. I was just curious. Don’t get too many guys in here with your polish.”

Scott took a sip of the scalding liquid, which suddenly tasted bitter on his tongue. “I’m surprised there’s any polish left,” he said quietly.

Seth looked at him shrewdly. “It’s rough in there, all right. Takes a lot out of a man.”

“Yeah.”

“You have any money?”

Scott frowned again. The conversation was all over the place and he was having a hard time keeping up. “No.”

“You’re still married. Anything still in your name?”

“No. I signed it all over to Jess when I was convicted.”

“Think she might give you a loan to get you started?”

“I don’t plan to ask.”

Seth folded his arms across his chest. “Be pretty hard to live on the salary I’m offering.”

“I’ll manage. I don’t need much. Just a chance.”

Seth nodded shortly. “That I can give you.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew a wallet and laid several fifty-dollar bills on the table. “Consider this an advance on your salary. Get yourself a warm coat and some sturdy shoes. Be here tomorrow at seven.”

Scott looked at the money. There was a time when he would drop twice that amount on a business dinner with several colleagues. In those days, money had meant prestige and power. Now it just meant survival. Funny how dramatically things had changed, he reflected. Slowly he reached for the bills and carefully folded them over. “Thank you,” he said. “For the loan. And for taking me on.”

Seth shrugged and stood up. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s hard, dirty work. You might not last a week.”

“I’ll last.” The statement was made quietly—but with absolute conviction.

Seth looked at him speculatively, but made no comment. Instead he turned and led the way to the door. “Tomorrow morning. Seven sharp.”

“I’ll be here.” Scott extended his hand, and Seth took it in a firm grip. The older man’s probing gaze seemed to go right to Scott’s heart.

“I was in your shoes once,” he said evenly. “I know how hard it is to lose everything. And society doesn’t make it easy to start over. Some guys make it. Some don’t. The bitter ones never do. Neither do the ones who can’t admit their mistakes. I figure you’re gonna make it.”

Scott felt a prickling behind his eyelids. For some reason this stranger’s words of encouragement touched him deeply. “I figure I am, too.”

“Reverend Young tells me you’re a churchgoing man. That gives you a leg up right there.”

“It also gives me hope.”

“Hope is a good thing to have.”

“It’s the only thing I have right now.”

“Maybe that’s enough. For right now,” Seth said sagely. “One thing you learn in this business. Patience. Things happen in their own time.” He nodded toward a pot where new green leaves were just beginning to push their way through the dirt. “You take care of plants, give them light and warmth and water, and in time they’ll flower. You can help the process along, but you can’t make them bloom until they’re ready. Same with a lot of things in life. Especially people.”

Scott thought of Jess, and the slow, daunting task of trying to win back her love. “Yeah,” he said heavily.

“But remember one thing. Spring always comes.”

Scott looked at Seth, taken aback by the man’s philosophical—and poetic—insight. No wonder Reverend Young had spoken so highly of him. “I like that thought.”

Seth shrugged, the philosophical moment clearly over. “Good. Now go buy that coat. You’ll need it tomorrow,” he said briskly. A movement on the far side of the greenhouse suddenly caught his attention, and he turned. “Jason? Wait up!” he called. He looked back at Scott. “Gotta talk to him about the spring shipment of dogwood trees. See you tomorrow.”

Scott watched the older man stride down the length of the greenhouse, impressed and encouraged by their encounter. This job was going to work out fine. He could sense it.

He turned up his collar and moved toward the door, bracing himself for the blast of cold air waiting for him on the other side. Seth was right, he thought wryly. The first order of business was a warm coat.

He was right about something else, too, Scott acknowledged as he stepped into the frigid February air and began the long, chilling trek to the bus stop.

No matter how cold, how inhospitable, how merciless the winter is, spring always comes.

It was a good thought, Scott reflected. An uplifting thought. And he resolved to hold on to it—no matter what lay ahead in the weeks to come.

Chapter Two

“Scott? Is everything all right?”

Scott smiled as his sister’s voice came over the line. “Everything’s fine. It just took me a couple of days to get settled.”

“I can’t believe Joe got appendicitis the day before you got out! We wanted to pick you up and help you get settled,” she fretted. “Do you have a place to stay? Are you eating?”

His smile deepened. Karen had always been a mother hen, even more so since their own mother had died five years before. And her mothering instincts had intensified since he’d been in prison—for which he was deeply grateful. Other than Reverend Young, she’d been his lifeline, his only contact with the outside world for three long years. He would never forget her steadfast support and her willingness to stand by him despite the tragic mistakes he’d made—nor her long monthly trek to visit him. “Yes to both. How’s Joe?”

“He’ll live. It’s you I’ve been worrying about. Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“I did call. Almost as soon as I walked out the gates.”

“But that was three days ago!”

“I’ve been busy ever since. I had to look at the apartments Reverend Young lined up, and I had an interview at the nursery today.”

“Did you get the job?”

“Yes. It was the strangest interview I’ve ever had, but I have a feeling things will work out fine.”

“Good. I know you were counting on that job.” There was a slight pause, and when she spoke again he could hear the frown in her voice. “Listen, where are you?”

“In my apartment.”

“So you have a phone. Give me the number.” Scott complied, then Karen read it back to confirm. “Okay. I’m hanging up and calling you right back,” she said briskly. “You can’t afford this call.”

“Karen, I’m fine. You don’t have to—”

“I’m hanging up. Bye.”

The line went dead and Scott shook his head, smiling with equal parts affection and exasperation. As a stay-at-home mom with three boys, Karen wasn’t exactly rolling in dough, either. But when she got a notion in her head, there was no stopping her.

A moment later the phone rang and Scott reached for it. “That wasn’t necessary, you know.”

“Listen, big brother, do me a favor, okay? Let people help you if they want to. I just wish you’d come up here for a few weeks, like I asked you to.”

“I appreciate the offer, Karen. I really do. But I need to get back into the real world sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

He could hear her sigh of frustration over the wire. “Look, Scott, you could use a break. You deserve it. I was there, remember? I saw you the first Friday of every month. You lost forty pounds in six months. You looked like death. I worried about you night and day. You never talked about life in there, but I know it was hell. I know how close you came to…giving up.” She took a deep breath, and when she resumed speaking, there was a tremor in her voice. “Dear God, my heart bled for you every time I walked out the door and had to leave you behind. Do you know where I went when I left, after my first five or six visits? To the ladies’ room to throw up. I just couldn’t bear that you were in that place, and that I couldn’t do anything to help you.”

Her voice broke, and Scott felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. Karen had never before even hinted at the emotional toll her visits had taken. Just the opposite. She’d always been upbeat and chatty, working hard to cheer him up by telling him humorous anecdotes about the family, passing on drawings the boys had done for him, sharing photos of the birthday parties and Christmases he’d missed. Those visits had been the only thing that kept him going in those early months. Because of her he had still felt connected to the outside world. Because of her he was able for a brief time to feel human again. But if he’d known the emotional toll it had taken on her, he would never have let her come. “I’m so sorry, Karen,” he said, his voice anguished. “I had no idea.”

“That was the intent.” Her voice still sounded a bit shaky, but she quickly got it under control. “I know you, big brother. If you’d had any idea what those visits did to me, you’d have told me to stop coming. And I wanted to be there for you. But it’s over now. I only brought it up because I want you to know that I realize how horrible it was. And I think you need to take some time to readjust. To rest. To decompress. That’s why I wanted you to come up to Chicago and stay with us for a while. I still wish you would.”

Scott felt overwhelmed by a rush of love and gratitude, and his throat tightened with emotion. Karen’s love and support were blessings for which he would always be grateful. “I love you for offering, sis,” he said, his own voice none too steady. “You don’t know how much it means to me. Just like your visits. In case I haven’t told you—and I probably haven’t, because men aren’t always too good at that communication thing—I want you to know that I wouldn’t have made it without them. Knowing you were coming back, that I wasn’t totally alone, that someone cared and was thinking about me, is the only thing that got me through those early months. You were my rock.”

He heard Karen sniff over the wire. “Who says men aren’t good at communication? You just got an A,” she said tearily. She paused to blow her nose, and when she continued her voice was steadier. “Okay, now, enough of this mushy stuff. If you won’t come up, then let me send you a little money to tide you over.”

“I’m fine, sis.”

“You can pay it back, okay? Consider it a loan.”

“I have a job. And a place to live. I’m fine. Really.”

Another exasperated sigh. “You are one stubborn man, you know that?”

He grinned. “I think it runs in the family.”

“Very funny. Okay, have it your way. What’s your address?”

He hesitated. “No money. Promise.”

She muttered something he couldn’t make out. “Fine. No money.”

He gave her the information, and then glanced at his watch. “This call is costing you a fortune.”

“Look, forget the money for a minute, okay? Indulge me. We’ve got three years of catching up to do without a guard standing over our shoulder. Which reminds me…do you think you’ll be ready for a visitor soon?”

“You don’t have to make a special trip down, Karen.”

“Hey, just because you’re out of prison doesn’t mean you’re going to shake me that easily. I’m heading down to check on you as soon as Joe’s mother comes to visit in mid-March. She can help him with the kids while I’m gone. I’ll consider it a vacation. Trust me—I deserve it. We’ve been decimated by the flu this winter, and guess who’s been playing nurse?”

Scott chuckled. “When you put it that way, how can I refuse?”

“You can’t,” she replied pertly.

He glanced around the tiny furnished apartment, with its threadbare upholstery, worn carpeting and nicked furniture. He could just imagine what Karen would say about his living conditions. “Just don’t expect the Ritz, okay?” he cautioned.

She gave an unladylike snort. “With three kids and twenty more years to go on the mortgage, the Ritz is out of my league, anyway.”

But not this far out, Scott thought as his gaze once more traveled around the shabby apartment. She would not be happy to find him living in these conditions. But that was a battle for another day. “Tell Joe and the kids I said hi.”

“Will do.” There was a slight hesitation, and when Karen spoke again her voice was cautious. “Listen, I don’t mean to be nosy, but…have you talked to Jess?”

Scott’s smile faded. “Yes.”

“Any luck?”

“She hung up on me.”

Karen sighed. “I’m sorry, Scott.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect her to welcome me with open arms.”

“Hang in there, okay?”

“I will. Believe me, I’m an expert at that after the past three years. I’ve learned to take everything a day at a time.”

“Not a bad philosophy. Listen, I’ll call again in a couple of days. Promise to take care of yourself in the meantime?”

“Count on it.”

“You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. I’ll let you go for now. And Scott…welcome back.”

As they said their goodbyes and Scott replaced the receiver, he thought about Karen’s parting words. Welcome back. They had a nice sound. And it felt wonderful to be back. To be free.

But the words he really wanted to hear were Welcome home. And those could come from only one person.

Jess slammed the car door shut with her hip, juggling a briefcase, a bag of groceries and a shoulder purse. She didn’t usually work on Saturdays, but with the opening of the orchid show only a few days away she’d needed to tie up a few loose ends on publicity. The weather was too nice for indoor pursuits, though, she thought as she made her way toward her condo. The early-March day was unseasonably warm. Almost balmy, in fact. It was like a sneak preview of spring—and perfect for a nice long walk, she decided. As soon as she put away the groceries, she would change into her walking shoes and…

“Hello, Jess.”

Startled, Jess came to an abrupt stop as the man who had once been the center of her world stepped out of the shadows of a spruce tree. The bag of groceries slipped from her grasp, and only Scott’s quick reflexes kept it from hitting the sidewalk. He moved swiftly toward her and made a successful grab for it, which salvaged the canned goods—but dented her heart. Only inches away, his tangible, physical presence drove the breath from her lungs and she stumbled backward, desperately trying to put distance between them, unable to deal with the sudden, too-close proximity. She stared at him, wide-eyed, her hand moving involuntarily to her throat, frozen to the spot as she tried to process the impressions bombarding her senses.

There was no question that the man who stood motionless six feet in front of her, balancing the rescued grocery bag easily in one arm, was Scott. Absolutely no question. She would recognize him anywhere. Yet he was different. And it was more than the physical changes, though they were quite apparent, as well. For one thing, his dark hair now contained a sprinkling of silver at the temples. There were more lines on his face, which oddly enough seemed to suggest character rather than age. And he looked more toned than she’d ever seen him. His jeans fit his lean form like a second skin, and his T-shirt hugged a broad, muscular chest and revealed well-developed biceps. Scott had always been a handsome man. Now his virility was almost tangible.

But the physical changes weren’t what gave Jess pause. It was something else, something almost indefinable. A sense of quiet calm, of acceptance, of surrender almost. As if he’d somehow found a way to deal with all of the tragedy and pain and horror, made his peace with it and moved on. In the depths of his brown eyes she saw serenity, and a wave of envy surged over her. How had he been able to achieve that when it had so utterly eluded her? she wondered resentfully. Nothing seemed left of his restless, driving ambition, which had grown stronger and stronger until it had become the center of his life and had driven a wedge into their marriage. In its place was a quiet, appealing gentleness.

But there were other things in his eyes as well, she realized. Things that were even closer to the surface and equally disturbing in a very different way. Hunger. Need. And undisguised love. All of which left her completely off balance and confused.

While Jess struggled to come to grips with her volatile emotions, Scott took stock of the woman who had added so much joy to his life and filled his dreams for the past three years. She, too, was different than he remembered, and the changes troubled him. There was an unfamiliar tautness to her face, as if the skin was stretched too tightly over the fine bone structure beneath. And she seemed tense, tightly coiled, radiating an unsettling nervous energy that suggested she might snap at the least provocation.

Scott had known his unexpected appearance would upset her. But he sensed that Jess’s tension went far deeper and was of a much longer-term nature. As if it was the norm rather than a momentary reaction. She seemed somehow…brittle, as if she would break at the slightest touch. And far too thin, he concluded with a sweeping gaze. The fluid silk blouse that hugged her upper body suggested angular lines and sharp edges rather than the soft curves he remembered, and the circumference of the belt of her black slacks seemed tiny. Jess had always been slender, but now she was just plain skinny. His gaze moved back to her deep green eyes, and there he noticed the greatest change of all. Gone was the sparkle of joy with which she had always greeted each new day. In its place was a deep-seated sadness that was clearly of long duration.

Scott’s gut twisted painfully. He was well aware of the pain he’d caused Jess. Had always recognized it on an intellectual level. But now, confronted with the physical evidence of it, he knew that the hell he’d been through in prison had been no worse than her own private hell, which had left her shattered and fragile and heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Scott wanted to go to her, to pull her into his arms and promise to take away her pain, to care for her, to never hurt her again. But he knew his words would fall on deaf ears. Because he was the cause of her pain. He hadn’t been able to care for her in her greatest time of need. And there was no reason for her to believe that he would never hurt her again. Winning her back, he realized with a heavy heart, would be an even more daunting task than he’d imagined.

As he gazed at her, at the white-knuckled grip she had on her briefcase, at her face suddenly grown pale, he realized that she was trembling. Badly. She suddenly swayed ever so slightly, but when he instinctively took a step toward her she backed away in alarm, only to lose her balance as she tottered half on and half off the concrete walk. A moment later she lost her footing and found herself sprawled on the ground.

In a flash, Scott set the groceries on the walk and knelt beside her, his concerned eyes only inches from hers, his voice worried, his hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry, Jess. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

She stared at him, hardly able to breathe. She looked at his hand—strong, gentle and achingly familiar—on her arm, and her heart stopped, then slammed into overdrive. Dear God, why was she being tormented this way? she cried silently. She’d never wanted to see this man again! She hated him! Hated how his ambition had eaten away at their marriage. Hated how he’d begun to turn to alcohol to relieve the tension of stress-filled days in the business world. Hated how he’d taken the deadly chance that fateful night that ruined her life and ended two others. And hated how, in his presence, she was confronted again by the “if only” that had hung like a dark cloud over her life ever since the tragic accident. The “if only” that said her daughter might not have died if she’d insisted on driving that night instead of letting Scott take the wheel.

Choking back a sob, she scrambled to her feet, filled with an urgent need to get away from Scott. For some reason she sensed danger. Not of a physical nature. But danger nonetheless. She had to get to the safety of her condo, where she could bolt the door against this intrusion on her life. Yet even as she slung her purse over her shoulder and reached for her briefcase, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she couldn’t bolt the door against this intrusion on her heart. That her life was once again about to be turned upside down. Blinded by tears, she groped for the grocery bag, but Scott beat her to it.

“Let me help.” He reached for it and swung it up into his arm.

She hesitated for only a moment. Then, without a word, she turned and headed for her condo, half running as she dug through her purse for her keys, struggling to control the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

“Jess, please.”

He was behind her. Following her. Harassing her. She walked more quickly.

“Please, Jess. I just want to talk to you.”

Something in his tone made her step falter for a moment, but then, angry at herself for allowing the choked entreaty in his voice to affect her, she resolutely quickened her pace.

He didn’t speak again, but she knew he was still behind her. Her hand was shaking so badly when she reached her door that she had difficulty fitting her key in the lock. Then, just when she thought she was home free, it slipped from her fingers and clattered to the concrete steps.

Before she could react, he reached down and retrieved it. Panic once more engulfed her. Now she was trapped. Tears of frustration spilled from her eyes, and she swiped at them angrily and desperately tried to figure out what to do. But her brain seemed to have shifted into neutral.

To her surprise, however, Scott didn’t hold her hostage. After only a moment’s hesitation he reached past her and fitted the key into the lock. It took him two tries, and she noted with surprise that his hands were almost as unsteady as hers. After he turned the key, he stepped back.

“I’ll leave your groceries on the step,” he said quietly.

She heard the rustle of the paper bag as he deposited the sack, and she reached for the knob, prepared to flee, planning to retrieve the groceries later. But then he spoke again.

“I never had a chance to say this in person, Jess. And I know it doesn’t change anything. But I want you to know how sorry I am…about everything. I made a lot of mistakes. Tragic mistakes that I regret with all my heart. But the one thing that wasn’t a mistake was loving you.”

The raw pain, the passion, in his voice jolted her, compelled her with a force she couldn’t ignore to turn and face the man she had once loved. He was standing a couple of feet away, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, his face filled with such sadness and remorse that she couldn’t doubt the truth of his words. But being sorry didn’t change a thing, she thought bitterly as the tears she’d tried so hard to contain suddenly spilled out of her eyes.