Ruth Herne - Reunited Hearts

“It was his job to do that,” Cat reminded her. “As the father, he had a duty to his child, his son. And for a guy like Trent, whose parents didn’t want him, fatherhood’s got to be a pretty big deal. He’s not like other guys.”

Alyssa had discovered that firsthand in Montana. Thoughts of Vaughn Maxwell’s temper taught her that all men weren’t created equal. And she was grateful to have kept Vaughn’s inner nature from Jaden during the short years they were together. Why hadn’t she seen through Vaughn’s facade sooner? What was she thinking? If she’d been honest with herself, she could have left before the unthinkable happened. But she’d stayed, leaving no one but herself to blame for the consequences.

Shame coursed through her again. “I don’t know how to make this right.”

Cat’s look said that wasn’t possible.

Alyssa turned and stared out the window. “What will I tell Jaden?”

“The truth?”

“How?” She faced Cat again and lifted her shoulders. “He’ll never trust me again.”

“Never’s a long time,” Cat advised. She shouldered her bag and arched a brow. “The truth shall set you free,” she paraphrased. “John’s gospel. Smart dude. He was pretty tight with Christ, remember?”

Alyssa couldn’t meet her eye. It had been easy to fall away from faith, from God in Montana. Aunt Gee was a free spirit who lived for the moment, and she’d taken Alyssa in when she needed a home. Alyssa had followed suit, for a while at least.

Shame knifed again.

Sure, she’d straightened up after a couple of years. And Gee had actually matured as well, but nothing made up for the choices Alyssa made those first years away. Foolish. Sinful. Self-indulgent.

God? You there? Can we talk?

Cat reached out and gave her a brisk hug, a hug that said she’d somehow find a way. “I’m off tomorrow, but back on Wednesday. I’ll see you then, all right?” Alyssa nodded.

“And if you need me, need a shoulder, need a pal, need more tissues…” Cat’s gaze encompassed the dwindling supply on the counter alongside them “…give me a shout. I’m not far away.”

“Thanks, Cat.”

The older woman shrugged and nodded, knowing. “You’re welcome, kid. And pray. Nothing’s so bad that God doesn’t want us. Hear us. Care for us.”

“Right.”

Alyssa wasn’t about to buy into that line of reasoning, not when she knew better. No one had pushed her to foolish relationships when she’d left. She’d managed that one on her own. And yes, she’d turned it around, had changed things before she met Vaughn, and then…

And then married a guy who hid his angry side until the chips were down and whiskey took the place of sweet tea on the side porch.

She should have seen it coming. There were signs.

She’d ignored them.

Foolish, foolish girl.

And now?

Cat said she should pray. Cat didn’t know, didn’t understand that there were some things that were unforgivable. Even by God.

Trent went round the whole thing in his head, trudging the sidewalks deep into the night, and still came up with nothing.

He’d loved her. He thought she’d loved him. When she broke things off and headed out west for college, he’d been devastated but man enough to realize he’d broken trust with her by giving in to temptation. Even at eighteen, he was supposed to be the God-sworn guardian, the protector.

He’d failed miserably, then lost the girl besides. His fault, he knew, for not respecting her enough to wait. But obviously he wasn’t the only one lacking honor. The thought of the boy rocked Trent back on his heels.

That Alyssa could do such a thing angered him enough to keep him walking the streets, until he was tired enough to fall into the motel room bed hours later, the pain in his head no match for the one in his heart.

A sharp knock woke Trent with a start the next morning.

At least he thought it was morning. He’d drawn the heavy curtains when he’d finally crashed, shrouding the room from light. Noise. People. Life.

Obviously life found him. Housekeeping, maybe?

“Go away. Do not disturb. Clean tomorrow.” He growled the words into his pillow, his temples reverberating like a drill unit on parade: Left. Left. Left, right, left.

“Trent? It’s Helen. May I come in?”

Helen?

What was his boss doing here on a Tuesday morning? A frightfully early Tuesday morning?

To fire him.

Of course. Totally understandable. Scandal equates loss of job.

Trent sighed, stood, tossed a pillow back to the top of the bed, ran a hand through his hair and pulled open the door. “I’ll save you the trouble and the embarrassment of firing me and verbally refuse the offer of employment you extended yesterday, okay?”

Intense morning sun blinded him, the sharp angle piercing the V-angled crack. Helen stepped in, gave him a once-over, tsk-tsked, pulled out the desk chair and sat down. “I never saw you as a quitter, Trent.”

“Beats getting axed.”

Did a tiny smile soften her gaze? No. Had to be a quirk of the sun. Trent hesitated, unsure of what to do next.

“You’ve had better days.”

Talk about an understatement. “Yeah.”

He shut the door, drew open the curtains and let sunlight soften the room. He drew a breath, waved to his slept-in clothes and offered an apology. “I know I look awful…”

She nodded.

“And that scene at The Edge was at best disconcerting.”

“Agreed.”

“And it’s understandable that you don’t want or need an executive who comes with scandal preattached.”

“And there’s where we differ.”

“Huh?” Part of Trent’s bemused brain kicked into gear, reminding him that former army captains and executives don’t say “huh.” He cleared his throat, sat on the lower edge of the bed, leaned forward and asked, “Excuse me? I don’t understand.”

Helen regarded him with something akin to affection. “Trent, I watched you grow up.”

“You and everybody else in town.”

“True enough. You were an anomaly, a boy set apart by circumstance, but it wasn’t your situation that drew attention.”

“No?” Trent scowled. “Could’ve fooled me.” Heaven knows he felt like a circus monkey more than once, his tragic family situation touted in local media.

“It was how you handled those conditions,” Helen went on. “The grace under pressure, the time you put in studying, learning, practicing, working. We marveled at you and there was many a prayer offered in thanksgiving that we found you in time. That you survived.”

Unlike Clay, his little brother, a good little fellow who drowned when he stumbled into a water-filled ditch three counties east. Why couldn’t their parents have dumped them together? Then, at least, Clay might have stood a chance. The hollow spot dwelling just beneath Trent’s breastbone nudged an arrow of pain.

“So now, you’re under pressure again.” Helen rose and shrugged. “And I have no doubts that you’ll handle it just fine. In fact, this new twist compels you to stay here, help my company compete successfully for those military contracts. You’ve got a whole new reason to be in Jamison as of yesterday.”

He stared at her. “You still want me?”

She held up her wrist, the unadorned watch a quiet message. “I expect you to be setting up your office in an hour. And I’m hoping you brought another suit.”

Several, in fact. “Yes.”

“Then I suggest a shower, shave, coffee and ibuprofen for that headache you’re trying to hide.”

A hint of warmth stole over him. “I’m not a big pill popper. I don’t have any.”

Helen opened her purse, withdrew a small bottle and shook two tablets into her hand. “They’re generic, but they do the trick.”