Return to Emmett's Mill

Her two younger sisters had grown into strong, capable women while she was away. Not that she’d doubted they would, but Nora was still in high school and Natalie was in her sophomore year at UC Davis when she left, and Tasha hadn’t been thinking about the future, theirs or her own. She’d run away with little thought to anything but escape, and while she’d been running, time had kept moving. She stole a glance at her sister and withheld the bitter sigh trapped in her chest with the rest of the terrible and awful things she kept hidden away.

A tear slid down her nose before she could stop it, and a wave of sorrow threatened to knock the strength out of her legs. Bracing herself against the sink, she prayed for the ability to get through this moment before Natalie noticed the breakdown that was surely heading her way. Breathe. Just breathe. But a sob caught in her throat and an ugly sound escaped.

“Tasha?”

Turning away, she closed her eyes, but the action only squeezed out the tears she was trying to hold back. “I need some air,” she managed to say before bolting from the room. Flying past Nora, who was just returning with more empty plates, she stepped into the darkness and embraced the frosty air as it penetrated her clothing and caressed her skin.

Sinking to the front porch step, she wrapped her arms around herself, more for reassurance than warmth, and fought to stay focused. Her breath came in painful stops and starts as she willed the hurt away. She was too old to keep saying it’s not fair, but that didn’t keep her from thinking it over and over. Wiping at the tears that felt frozen to her cheek, she stared up at the sky and wondered if her mother was up there somewhere. And if so, was she looking down at her eldest daughter with a sad frown on her face? Wondering how her brightest star had winked out within a heartbeat?

She dropped her head to rest on her knees and tried curling into a ball. I’m sorry I didn’t come homeearlier. I would’ve been here for you. Fresh tears slid down her cheek and her gaze was lost on the darkened landscape of her parents’ home. She drew a shaky breath and buried her face into her arms.

Oh, Mama…I’m so sorry.

JOSH GRABBED A POT HOLDER and pulled the smoking mess out of the oven just as Christopher’s lanky form rounded the kitchen corner to lounge against the wall. Damn.

“Another one bites the dust?”

Pot holder covering his mouth as he coughed and sputtered, he gave his son a short nod. “Looks like pizza again. Sorry, buddy.”

“Fine by me.” Christopher sent a dubious look toward what had started out as Tater Tots casserole but had ended charred and dangerous, and said, “Did that even start out worth eating?”

Josh wrinkled his nose at the concoction and pursed his lips. “Dunno.” He swung around to give his son a grin. “But I get points for trying, right?”

“Sure, Dad,” Christopher said, cracking the first grin Josh had seen on his son’s face since they moved. Christopher pivoted on his heel and Josh followed him out of the kitchen, glad to leave behind the burning wreckage and needing to see how Christopher was adjusting.

“So, you getting used to the new school yet?” he asked, rubbing at the sting in his eyes and blinking hard until his vision cleared. “Everything okay? No one’s giving you any trouble?”

“It’s ,” Fine Christopher answered, his cheeks reddening when his adolescent voice cracked.

“You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”

“Dad, stop stressing. I’m fine. One school’s no different than the other. They all suck.”

His hopes sank at Christopher’s revealing comment. He’d hoped Emmett’s Mill would be a fresh start for the both of them. At the last school, Christopher had been bullied incessantly. It wasn’t the same as when Josh was in school. These kids weren’t just stealing lunch money or tossing nerds in trash cans. With the last incident, a group of punks had cornered Christopher, flashing a switchblade.

Josh felt sick all over again at the thought of what might’ve happened if a teacher hadn’t come upon them. Suspensions had been given to the boys from the school’s side, and after Josh filed a complaint with the police, felony charges had been levied. By that point, he’d already packed his bags, finished with everything associated with the city of Stockton. Including his wife.

Speaking of. He withheld the grimace and tried to keep his voice neutral. “It’s your mom’s weekend. She’ll be here Friday after school. Make sure you have your stuff ready.”

“What’s the point? She won’t come.”

Josh winced inwardly at the hurt couched inside his son’s belligerence. Since moving, Carrie hadn’t made much of an effort to see Christopher. He knew the reason, but he’d hoped Christopher didn’t. “She’ll come,” Josh said. “She promised.”

“She promised last weekend, too,” Christopher reminded him, his young face darkening. “She’s too busy spending her new boyfriend’s money.”

Josh should’ve known Christopher would catch on to the real reason Carrie found one excuse after another to reschedule her visitation. He was a smart kid. But as Josh struggled for some sort of reason to give his son this time, he needn’t have bothered. Christopher wasn’t interested in listening.

“Who cares? I don’t,” Christopher said, slouching against the wall as if he really didn’t care if his mother came to see him or not. “She can’t stand me, anyway.”

“That’s not true,” Josh said. “She loves you.”

“Actions speak louder than words, Dad,” Christopher said with a healthy dose of sarcasm before shoving off the wall and walking away, obviously finished with the conversation.

Josh’s heart cracked just a little bit more for what his son was going through. The fact of the matter was, Carrie made it no secret that Christopher embarrassed her. She’d expected their son would be athletic and popular because his father had been, but instead, he was gawky and awkward, his body leaning toward scrawny. To make things worse, early-childhood asthma had made him unable to do many of the things other kids were doing at his age, and he wore braces and glasses. Add to the mix a healthy dose of natural shyness and he made a perfect target for bullies.

Josh knew Carrie loved their son, but she was too wrapped up in things that didn’t matter to realize she was losing her only child. But Josh was the last person Carrie would accept parental advice from. The divorce was too fresh; the hurt and disillusionment too overwhelming—he wouldn’t even try. Either she’d wise up, or not. All he could do was to be there for Christopher.

Awash with regret for choices he had made when he was young, he knew in his heart that somehow fate had made him and Tasha take separate paths for a reason. But right now, he couldn’t help wondering how things might’ve been different if they’d been able to make a long-distance relationship work.

Stanford hadn’t seemed that far away. He’d been so proud of Tasha for getting into the prestigious school. Although the distance eventually tore them apart, he never stopped being proud of his smart girl—even if she wasn’t his anymore.

Ah, hell. He scrubbed his hands across his face in annoyance at the wistful direction of his thoughts. There was no use in looking backward all the time, and he made a point to avoid it even though Carrie always accused him of holding a torch for Tasha. It wasn’t true and no amount of reassuring ever seemed to convince her. He’d given everything to his marriage. But his best wasn’t enough. A failed marriage was a helluva wake-up call.

He’d come home to Emmett’s Mill to get his head on straight, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. When his older brother, Dean, had offered him a job at Halvorsen Construction, he’d gladly accepted, more than happy to bury himself in hard labor, to earn every bruise, scab and aching muscle.

He hadn’t factored in Tasha. Didn’t think he had to. From what he gathered, she rarely came home.

Until now.

He grimaced at the weakness he felt slowly building when he thought of her. She still had the power to make his insides do weird, girlie things, and that was enough to make him realize it was best to steer clear.

That shouldn’t be too hard, he thought, noting his sharp disappointment. He sighed softly. It didn’t look as if Tasha was itching to return for good.

CHAPTER FOUR

TASHA GAVE THE LIST in her hand a quick glance as she breezed through the double sliding doors of the small grocery market, intent on finishing the task as quickly as she could. She wasn’t thrilled with doing the grocery shopping, but both her sisters had plans of their own and couldn’t change them.

Miner Market hadn’t changed much since she was a kid, she noted, going right to the deli counter for her father’s roast beef. In high school, she used to come here with her girlfriends for a hot burrito and a soda, which was often shared among them during lunch. She smiled at the memory and kept moving until she heard her named called.

“Tasha Simmons! Look at you! Goodness, girl, don’t you age?”

Tasha stopped and a name filtered into her memory as the brunette woman ran over to her. “Crystal, wow. You look great, too. How are you?” she inquired politely.

She patted a rounded stomach and beamed. “Can’t complain. Number three right here. Another boy. Jack said pretty soon we’ll have our own basketball team at the rate we’re going. Any kids for you?”

“Uh, no,” she answered, struggling to keep her expression pleasantly bland, ignoring the void she felt in her heart. “Not yet.” Probably never. She lifted her basket. “Well, good to see you. I’d better get to this list or Natalie will kill me.”

Crystal nodded and moved her cart as if to leave but stopped as a sudden thought occurred to her. “I heard Josh’s in town, too. Have you seen him?”

“Actually, yes, he came to my mother’s funeral.”

Crystal’s expression lost some of its sparkle. “Oh, that’s right. She was such an awesome woman,” she said, resting her hand on her belly. “You let me know if you guys need anything. Anything at all.”

Tasha accepted Crystal’s offer with a nod but knew she wouldn’t call.

She detoured down the bread aisle when she saw someone else she’d gone to school with and exhaled softly in relief when she didn’t hear her name called at her back.

For a fleeting, selfish moment, she wished she was already back in Belize, away from the groups of well-meaning folk who had no idea why she wasn’t in the mood to reminisce.