Mending The Widow's Heart

He really needed to get a grip, he thought as he settled into the driver’s seat. Out of necessity, he’d pulled into himself after leaving the service, unwilling to subject anyone to the turmoil of emotions that seemed to have taken up permanent residence inside him. His little sister had accused him of becoming a hermit, and while he believed her assessment was on the melodramatic side, he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t too far off the truth.

One day, he’d be almost like his old self: confident, capable and ready to take on whatever life threw at him. And the next, he’d take an enormous step back into the mire that had dominated his perception of the world since his injuries had sent him home. The physical wounds had long since healed, but inside the scars sometimes felt as fresh as if they’d happened yesterday. He’d give anything to go back and relive that day, find some way to make it end differently.

But he couldn’t. He regretted that more than he’d ever be able to convey, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Squaring his shoulders with determination, Sam put aside the past and focused on the misty view outside the windshield. Unfortunately, in the enclosed cab, he caught a whiff of Holly’s perfume. With a mental groan, he identified the flowery scent: roses. He’d always had a fondness for roses.

“There’s a small market in town,” he explained as he headed for the highway. “But considering the fact that Daphne’s cupboards are pretty much empty, I’m thinking you need something more than a few cans of soup and a loaf of bread. Waterford has a big new grocery store that should do the trick.”

“Oh, it’s not far, is it? It’s getting late, and I hate to take up the rest of your day.”

“Not a problem.”

A blossoming smile made its way across her face, reminding him of the way the sun came up over the nearby hills every morning. The poetic comparison was so unlike him, he was beginning to wonder if he was coming down with something.

“You’re a nice guy, Sam.”

Her sweet, no-frills compliment trickled into a part of him that had been cold and dead for so long, he’d begun to think it would stay that way. His brain was clanging a warning, but the rest of him apparently wasn’t listening because he found himself smiling back at her. “You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

She didn’t say anything more, but the lingering gaze she gave him before looking out the passenger window made his heart roll over in his chest. Normally cautious when it came to relationships, he wasn’t one to go all mushy over a woman the first time he met her.

But this one had gotten to him on some level that he didn’t quite understand. One thing he knew for sure, though: he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Sam was clearing equipment from the bed of his work truck when he heard the kitchen screen door of Daphne’s house quietly creak open. He knew the sound of someone sneaking out, and he peered over the unruly boxwood hedge that separated his yard from hers. “Morning.”

Chase’s head snapped around, a guilty look on his face. “Hi.”

There was something about this kid that really appealed to him, so Sam decided to play it cool. “Headed to work?”

The boy grinned and shook his head. “Just checking things out. Mom said it was too muddy yesterday.”

“Sounds like a mom.” Sam wasn’t used to dealing with children, and he hunted for something else to say. “Wanna give me a hand?”

“I can’t leave Auntie D’s yard.”

It was a good rule, and Sam didn’t want him getting into trouble. Then inspiration hit, and he asked, “Have you got a baseball glove?”

“In the car. Why?”

“I’m ready for a break. We could play catch over the hedge if you want.”

“Cool! I’ll be right back.”

Skirting around the side porch, he scrambled up the driveway to where Holly’s car was parked. Sam expected to hear the slamming of a car door, but Chase made barely a sound opening and closing it before running back. Smart kid, Sam thought with a grin as he went into the garage to find his own glove and a baseball. They were under a pile of junk on his work bench, covered in dust. And one of the strings on his glove was considerably shorter than the others, with telltale gnaw marks that alerted him he had a mouse.

More like mice, he amended with a grimace. In his experience, the little pests always came with friends and were hard to get rid of. Just as he felt his chipper mood starting its usual nosedive, something incredible happened.

It stopped. As if someone had reached out to catch a ball on its way to the ground, his demeanor reversed course all on its own and began lifting again. Sam had never experienced anything even remotely like this, and he had no idea what to make of it. Since Chase was anxiously bouncing from one sneaker to the other on his side of the hedge, Sam put aside his bewilderment, banged the dirt and sawdust from his glove and tossed his throwing partner an easy pop fly.

After a few of those back and forth, Chase finally complained. “Come on, Sam. I’m not a baby.”

He laughed and put some more muscle into the next one. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem. Y’know, you’re pretty good at this. Who taught you to throw?”

“Mom did. She’s got a good arm for a girl.”

“Does she like baseball, too?” Sam didn’t know what made him ask that, but now that he had, it dawned on him that his curiosity about his new neighbor hadn’t gone away overnight the way he’d expected it to.

“Kinda,” the boy replied as if it baffled him. “She grew up rooting for Atlanta, but she met my dad at a Boston doubleheader, so now she likes the Red Sox.”

It was the first Sam had heard either of them talk about the boy’s father, and it made him wonder about the details of his death. He’d lost his own grandfather not long ago and still missed him every day. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for a child to cope with losing a parent so young.

Maybe this was a chance for him to help someone else whose life had been upended by tragedy, he thought. At least, he could try. “So, do you remember much about your father?”

“Some,” Chase answered, spinning the ball in his hand before tossing it back. “He looked fine, but he was sick, and that made Mom sad. He didn’t ever want to go outside or play games with me. She said it wasn’t my fault, so I figured it was because he didn’t want to be my dad anymore.”

Laced with sorrow, those raw, honest words drove straight into Sam’s heart. He’d assumed the Marine had died in combat, but now it sounded as if he’d made it home only to pass away later. Sam didn’t know which was more devastating, but he suspected that to Holly and Chase, there wasn’t much of a difference. Brady was gone, and they had to live without him. It didn’t get much tougher than that.

It wasn’t Sam’s nature to delve into someone else’s pain, especially since he had more than enough of his own to bear. But this brave kid and his grieving mother had broken through his stalwart front and gotten to him in a way other people didn’t. Foreign as it was to him, he acknowledged that their heart-wrenching history made him want to do something to help them.

“I can’t imagine that,” he said. “You’re a great kid, and I’m sure he was proud to be your dad. Sometimes when folks get sick it changes the way they act, even with the people they love most.”

Unfortunately, Sam knew that from agonizing personal experience. His own family had taken turns supporting, coddling and spoiling him until their eggshell walking had all but driven him nuts. All but Brian, he reminded himself with a wry grin. His pain-in-the-neck younger brother had remained his usual difficult self through it all, scoffing when Sam pitied himself, knocking him back into reality when he needed it. Sometimes literally.

“Grown-ups are weird,” Chase muttered, smacking the ball into his own glove with a scowl.

“Got that right,” Sam agreed wholeheartedly, wishing he had some other form of wisdom to offer. But since he didn’t, he opted to change the subject to something less depressing. “So, did you play on a team when you were in Boston?”

The boy’s expression brightened like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “T-ball, and then baseball.”

“Nice. What position did you play?”

“I usually got stuck in the outfield ’cause I was the youngest.”

His disgusted tone made it clear what he thought of that, and Sam chuckled. “What would you rather play?”

“Catcher. They’re in the action all the time. The outfield’s boring.”

Sam couldn’t agree more. Being in on every play was why he’d enjoyed the position so much when he was growing up. Chase’s comments took him back to his own Little League days, and he chuckled. “Unless you get some gorilla up there who can hit the ball a mile. Then it’s over your head and he’s trotting around the bases like a big shot.”

“Yeah, I hate that. If I ever hit a home run, I’ll be cool about it.”

“Whattya mean ‘if’?” Sam demanded in mock horror. “Don’t you mean ‘when I hit a home run’?”

“It’s pretty hard to do.”

“Nothing worth doing comes easy.” To Sam’s astonishment, one of his dad’s trademark sayings came tumbling out of his mouth. Even more surprising, it struck him as a very fatherly thing to say, and to his knowledge, he didn’t have a paternal bone in his body. He liked kids well enough, but having his own was a faint dream, possibly in the distant future.

But somehow, he’d connected with this friendly boy in a way he’d never done with the rug rats in his own extended family. He wasn’t at all sure that was good for either him or Chase, but now didn’t seem like the time to examine it too closely.

Chase had been dropped into a new town, surrounded by strangers. For some reason, he seemed to enjoy spending time with Sam, and there was no point denying that the feeling was mutual. Out of respect for a fellow soldier who’d died too young, Sam decided that the least he could do was be around when his young neighbor needed someone to listen.

Or simply throw the ball back.

* * *

Holly was digging through a suitcase searching for some dry sneakers when she heard an odd sound out in the overgrown backyard.

Thwack, pause. Thwack, pause. The rhythm was steady, and she couldn’t figure out what might be causing it. Then the sound of a deep voice, followed by Chase’s unmistakable shout, “Awesome!”

Opening her bedroom door farther, she confirmed that he wasn’t in his room but had somehow gone downstairs without her noticing. It wasn’t smart for him to be wandering around on his own, and she made a note to remind him of the simple rules she’d established for him in Boston. Granted, Liberty Creek was a far cry from the city neighborhood they’d lived in before, but in her mind you couldn’t be too careful when it came to your kid’s safety.

Hurrying down the unfinished wooden stairs, she stopped dead in her tracks when she got a glimpse of what was happening outside the kitchen’s bay window. Chase stood on one side of the ragged hedge, tossing a ball to someone on the other side. Technically, he’d stayed in the yard and was still managing to have some fun, and now that she knew he was okay, she admired his creativity with a grin.

Unfortunately, her humor was short-lived when she peered through another window and saw that his throwing partner was Sam Calhoun. Until now, she’d had no idea that he was one of Daphne’s two neighbors, and she berated herself for not asking him where he lived.

Then again, she amended as she made her way to the porch, what were the chances that the former Ranger lived next door? She wasn’t concerned about Sam harming Chase—he struck her as too compassionate for that—but she was very worried that her son might grow too fond of their troubled neighbor and suffer greatly for it later on.

So, when she reached the screen door, she summoned her most casual mom tone before saying, “Morning, boys. I didn’t realize workouts started so early around here.”

“Hey, Mom!” Chase greeted her, waving before lobbing the ball to Sam. “We’re getting warmed up for the game tonight. Boston’s playing the Yankees at Fenway, and we wanna be ready in case the Red Sox need us.”

“His idea,” Sam explained with a sheepish grin that was oddly endearing on such a large man. “I’m sure they’d be happy to get Chase in the lineup, but I don’t imagine they’ll need me unless someone breaks a leg going down the dugout steps.”

In spite of her earlier concern, Holly couldn’t keep back a laugh. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, then. Are you two hungry?”

Typical boy, Chase whooped a reply, spinning his glove in the air before catching it and racing inside. She stepped back to avoid being run over and waited while Sam took a little slower route. His long strides crossed the yard quickly, and he set his battered glove on the top porch step before coming into the kitchen.

“You really don’t have to feed me,” he said. “I’ve got food at my place.”

Just a few yards away, she noted silently, still a bit stunned by the way she’d uncovered that detail. But that wasn’t his fault, and she decided to let it go. “You never charged us for those great cookies yesterday, so the least I can do is return the favor. How do you like your eggs?”

“However you’re makin’ ’em. When someone else is doing the cooking, I’m not picky.”

“Scrambled it is.” Considering his size, she added, “And some of that fresh local sausage I got yesterday, too. Anything else?”

“No, thank you,” he replied in a cautiously polite tone. “That’s more than enough.”

She tried not to take the stiff response personally, but it wasn’t easy. She was going out of her way to put her own misgivings aside and be friendly to him, but he seemed determined to shrink away from her efforts. It was probably for the best, she mused. From what she’d been able to discern, Sam needed a lot more than she could give him, anyway. “Okay, then. Grab some coffee and have a seat while I get everything ready.”

He did as she asked, and she focused on putting their meal together. She could sense him watching her, and a quick peek showed her that he was following her movements with a thoughtful expression. Not creepy, she realized, but curious. She couldn’t imagine what he found so fascinating about her cracking open eggs and flipping sausages, then decided that what he might be thinking was absolutely none of her business.

An old door sat across a cobbled-together base that wasn’t much in the beauty department but was clearly standing in for an island to be built later. Leaning across the top, she called in to the den, “Chase, breakfast!”

“Coming!” He trotted in and fixed her with a hopeful look. “That new wild animal show is on. Can I eat in the den if I’m real careful?”

Her boy, Holly thought fondly. He loved anything with fur or feathers, and the wilder the better. “Okay, we’ll give it a try. But keep your food on the coffee table and sit right in front of it. If you spill it, you clean it up. Understand?”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbled with a mock scowl. “Save the flattery for when you’re in trouble.”

He laughed and turned to Sam. “Wanna come watch TV with me?”

Something flickered in the contractor’s eyes, lighting them briefly before fading away. Holly got the impression that a part of him was trying desperately to claw its way to the surface but kept getting shot down by reality. Holly knew how discouraging it could be when the past kept smothering all your efforts to move forward, and she felt a pang of sorrow for him.

“Maybe next time,” he replied.

“Tomorrow?”

Holly held her breath, praying that Sam wouldn’t make a commitment and then not show up. Or forget. Or think it wasn’t important. Or myriad other things that Brady had repeatedly done when Chase had attempted to reach out to him. Eventually, Chase had tired of being rejected and stopped asking his father to do things. Before long, Brady had become a stranger in his own home.

“I’d hate to say yes and then not be able to do it,” Sam said quietly, as if he’d somehow picked up on Holly’s unspoken fear. “Soon as I can, I’ll watch that show with you. Is that okay?”

Chase nodded eagerly. “I get it. Mom says you should always keep your promises.”

Apparently satisfied, he left the two adults in the kitchen, an awkward silence hanging in the air between them. Sam gave her a long, pensive look, as if he was trying to decide what to say next.

Finally, he told her, “That’s good advice.”

“I have my moments,” she answered as lightly as she could, turning away to rotate the sausages before they burned.

“Good ones?”

“Mostly.” At least now they were, she added silently. Getting to that point had taken every ounce of her strength, but she’d done it for Chase because she was all he had. Setting their plates on the table, she took the seat next to Sam and debated telling him the rest of her story. Because she believed that it was important for him to understand where she was coming from, she took a deep breath and started, “Sam, I don’t normally do this, but since we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other around here, I need for you to know something. About Brady.”

Misery clouded Sam’s eyes, and he grimaced so deeply, she almost felt it herself. Holly got the feeling that he wasn’t only sad for her, but for himself. Whatever had scarred him had left a mark so deep, it showed as clearly in his features as if it had been chiseled there yesterday. “Chase told me about him while we were playing catch. I’m so sorry he didn’t recover.”

“Oh, he recovered,” she corrected him with a frown. “Most of him, anyway. He kept on hunting for the rest, and when Chase was old enough to do things with, I thought being a dad might help him find what he’d lost. Sadly, it didn’t, and two years ago, he finally gave up.”

“That’s awful. No family should have to go through that.”

Sam’s solemn response told her that he understood better than anyone what she and Chase had endured. In her experience, confiding in someone made them want to do the same, and she sipped her coffee, waiting for him to give her some idea of what had happened to him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he stood and pushed his chair back into place. “The ramp for Daphne’s wheelchair came in this morning, so I’ll be installing it first thing. It’s gonna be pretty loud, but I’ll get it done quick as I can.”

“That’s fine, but could you wait a few minutes? I really should check in with my parents. They were out last night, so I left them a message that we got here in one piece. They’d probably like more of an update, though, and I promised them some pics of the house.”

“Sure.”

Back to the single syllables, she noticed as he strode out the side door and headed down the steps that led to the driveway. Holly wasn’t certain what kind of response she’d expected from the reserved contractor, but she couldn’t help feeling that she’d fallen a huge step back where he was concerned. She’d taken a leap of faith to be honest with him, she reminded herself, and now she’d have to live with the consequences.

Whatever they might be.

Her laptop was charging on the counter, so she unplugged it and took it into the den, where Chase’s show was nearly over. He swallowed the last of his orange juice while she dialed her parents in Savannah, and by the time their images appeared on the screen, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Morning, Gramma and Grampa,” he said, adding a little wave. “How’re you?”

“Just fine, honey bear,” Mom replied, beaming at him. “What have you been up to so far today?”

“Having breakfast and playing catch with Sam.”

“Sam?” her father echoed warily. “Who’s he?”

“Auntie D’s neighbor,” Chase answered brightly. “He likes the Red Sox, too, and he’s awesome. We’re gonna watch the game together tonight.”

They wouldn’t like knowing there’d be a stranger in the house, Holly knew, but she plastered on a smile and pretended she was fine with the arrangement. Don Fredericks was a cop, and her mother, Gloria, worked with at-risk teens, so they were trained to spot trouble and she didn’t want to worry them.

Unfortunately, Holly’s acting skills left a lot to be desired.

“I didn’t realize there was a single man so close by,” Dad commented in a casual tone that did nothing to mask his apprehension. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Oh, Don.” Mom clicked her tongue at him. “Daphne hired him to work on her house, so she thinks he’s trustworthy. You know how great she is at reading people. Besides that, Holly meets new folks all the time, and she handles them just fine. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Sam’s been a total gentleman,” she assured them.

“Well, you tell him that better not change or he’ll have your father to deal with.”

“I’ll do that,” Holly promised, forcing a laugh. “He’ll be too busy to cause any problems, though. This place is like something off one of those real estate disaster shows.”

“D has always liked old things,” Mom said in a tone laced with fondness for her older sister. “Now that she’s retired, it’s good for her to have a project that will keep her occupied.”

“It’ll do that, all right. I should let you two go for now. Once Auntie’s home from the hospital, we’ll call and have a nice family video chat.”

“That would be wonderful,” Mom said approvingly.

In unison, they said, “Love ya—bye.”

After they hung up, Holly stared at the icons on her screen until they faded into a slideshow of Savannah’s most beautiful spots. Sometimes her hometown seemed like it was on the other side of the world even though it was only a few hours away by plane. Those were the times when she seriously considered moving back to the only place that had ever really felt like home to her.

Brady had never wanted her to follow him from station to station, so she’d remained in Boston, counting the days from one of his leaves to the next. Enjoying her small circle of friends, she’d been happy enough there, even more so after Chase came along.

Then Brady returned, and their once-vibrant existence shriveled away to nothing. For Chase’s sake, she’d done her best to adjust and remain as upbeat as possible. After trudging along that way for a couple of years, she’d finally come to the conclusion that Brady’s condition had plateaued and the chances of him improving any further dwindled by the month.

So she cared for him as well as she could while creating a life for herself and Chase that included desperately needed friends and playdates. They’d been her salvation, giving her something beyond the confining four walls of their apartment.

Tragically, they’d also given Brady the opening he needed to end his life. For months afterward, she’d blamed herself for not being there when he needed her most, to remind him that she loved him and would never give up on him, no matter how bad things got. The vows she’d spoken on their wedding day before God and their families were sacred to her, and she was as committed to them at the end as she’d been in church that warm, sunny day that had held such promise.

It felt like a lifetime ago, she thought sadly. Every night, Chase included Brady in the prayers he said before bedtime, asking God to take good care of him. Because she felt he was too young to understand, Holly hadn’t yet devised a way to tell her son the details of his father’s untimely death.

She barely understood it herself, but she recognized that someday she’d have to tell Chase the truth. She prayed that when the time came, God would help her find the words.

And that somehow, her son would find a way to accept that the father he loved had chosen to leave him behind.

* * *

Later that morning, Sam stopped outside the kitchen door to find Holly and Chase with their heads together over a coloring book. He didn’t think kids did that kind of thing anymore, and the cozy scene made him smile. “I’m headed into town for a fresh saw blade. Do you need anything while I’m there?”