Tara Randel - Always The One

She reared back. “That’s impossible.”

“You sent the gem so I’d find you.”

“Derrick, I never sent you anything.” She paused, clearly confused.

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.” She reached out to grab the open car door. “Right now, I’m needed at home.”

He placed his hand on her arm to stop her. She sucked in a breath and jerked away. “I’m not sure what’s going on,” he told her, “but I’m not leaving until I do.”

“Fine. We can have this conversation at my place.”

“I’ll follow you.”

She nodded, then ducked into her sedan. He strode back to his rental car, thankful the limited amount of pepper spray hadn’t incapacitated him enough to keep him from driving. Firing up the engine, he saw Hannah pull onto the street. He eased out of his spot, baffled and a lot disappointed.

No excited pronouncements of You found me . I’ve missed you for so long. Finally, we can be together. I never stopped loving you.

Instead he got, I never sent you anything .

Then how did that explain the stone delivered to his office? Her return address on the envelope? She was truly shocked to see him. Not surprising since it had been seventeen years since they’d known each other. Still, what had he expected? Angelic music from above and scattered rose petals leading a path to his one true love? That she’d run into his arms as if no time had passed at all? Not happening, apparently, but he’d hoped she’d at least be as excited as he was by the reunion.

The nagging feeling that she hadn’t wanted him to find her struck again. Why? What had she been doing all these years? Despite her reluctance to speak with him, he wasn’t going anywhere until he had answers.

Ten minutes later they pulled up to a ranch-style house in a neighborhood that had seen better days. The faded tan paint needed a touch-up. The grass, if you could call the brown stuff peeking out from under patches of snow, that could use the expertise of a good gardener. Of course, it was winter and grass tended to be dormant, but somehow Derrick suspected the neglected appearance was more about a lack of time and priorities than the season.

A long leg exited the car and soon Hannah was purposefully striding up the path to the front door. He parked behind her and made tracks to follow before she shut him out. A wave of heat smacked him as he stepped inside the house, igniting his burning skin again.

At first glance, the living room was cozy. An overstuffed couch and matching armchair took up most of the space, along with a large-screen television and a few end tables. Hannah was busy taking off her coat, not meeting his gaze. He shrugged out of his jacket. Waited.

“The bathroom is down the hall. First door on the right.”

“Thanks.” He hurried to the sink, rinsing the lingering pepper spray from his face. The skin around his glassy eyes was red, but splashing the water removed any residual effects. He dried his face with a towel and went back to the living room.

Hannah had the bay window curtain pulled back and was staring outside. When she heard him, she twirled around.

“Better?”

He nodded.

Crossing the room, she brushed by him to look down the dim hallway, the scent of vanilla enveloping him as she passed. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she turned and repeated in a quiet tone, “How did you find me?”

“The red stone, Hannah. You sent it to me.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t send you anything. I don’t even know where you live.”

“It was sent to my workplace.”

She held out her hands and lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know that, either. I know nothing about your life.”

Ouch.

“It was one of the four gemstones your father had in his possession.”

She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face. “The collection that ruined our lives.” She lowered her hand. Stared hard at him. “Because of you.”

“I never got a chance to talk to you.” He took a step toward her. “You were gone.”

A harsh laugh escaped her lips. “You have no idea what you did.”

“Then tell me.”

“What, you show up here out of the blue years after my family had to give up everything and assume I’m going to chat you up like we’re long-lost friends?”

“We’re more than that.”

“We were. Not any longer.”

The sharp words aimed at his heart did their damage.

She waved a hand in his direction. “It doesn’t matter what happened. The bottom line is, you can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know?”

“No. Why do you think I’m standing here asking questions?”

She began to pace the length of the living room. “You have no idea why we left?”

“As far as everyone was concerned, your family just disappeared in the night. No one knew why.”

She stopped. “Even your father?”

Old wounds tore open at the mention of his dad. “If he did, he never said.”

“And you didn’t ask him before making this trip to find me?”

The lingering guilt and pain swamped him. “He died, Hannah.”

She stopped, her face softening. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded, swallowing around the obstruction in his throat. “I’ve been trying, without luck, to find you for years.”

“There’s a reason you had no luck.”

“Which is?”

“I didn’t want you to find me.”

The blunt force of the truth smacked him square in the chest. He’d been correct. She didn’t want him. Still, despite the searing pain, the part of him that couldn’t let go had to ask, “But why? What happened?”

She opened her mouth and he waited for his questions to be answered when a weak voice came from the hallway.

“Hannah, I hear someone with you. Is Jonathan there?”

Something dark rose at the mention of another man’s name, but Derrick controlled his emotions. He didn’t know anything about this Hannah and could not jump to conclusions. Not when he was finally in the same room with her.

Hannah sent him a now-you-did-it look and hurried to the entrance of the hallway. A woman joined her, her hair gray and her face lined as she shuffled into the room wearing a housecoat and slippers.

“Mom, you should have stayed in bed.”

“And miss the commotion?”

When Derrick realized this was Hannah’s mother, his jaw dropped. This woman was obviously ill and looked way older than Derrick thought she should be, a far cry from the feisty, petite dynamo who had opened up her house, especially her kitchen, to him when he was a kid.

He stepped forward. “Hi, Mrs. Rawlings. It’s Derrick Matthews.”

The older woman stilled. Squinted her eyes. Then a warm smile curved her lips. “My goodness. It is you.”

Hannah steered her mother to the armchair. “Sit, Mom.”

Once Mrs. Rawlings was seated, she gazed at Derrick for a long moment. “I never thought I’d see you again. You or anyone from our old life.” She grinned and pointed a shaky finger at him. “You always were full of surprises.”

“If anything, finding you and Hannah has been the major surprise.”

Mrs. Rawlings glanced at her daughter as Hannah wrapped a knitted afghan over her mother’s knees.

“Have you eaten today, Mom?”

A grimace crossed her mother’s face. “No.”

“Let me get you some tea and toast.”

“Please.”

Always one with gracious manners, Hannah asked Derrick, “Can I get you anything?”

Yes , he wanted to shout. The truth.

“I’m good.”

Hannah hesitated as if she didn’t want to leave them alone, then hustled to the kitchen.

After a tense moment, Mrs. Rawlings said, “I’m sure you’re startled by my appearance.”