The Parting Gift(25)

David brought his hand back inside his blanket and seemed to be searching for something hidden among the folds of his clothing. Blaine’s eyes traced his father’s movements as he drew out his fist and opened it, revealing a dainty gold chain bearing what Blaine recognized as his mother’s most prized possession. Something he hadn’t seen since she had died. All this time his father had kept it.

The sight of the heart-shaped locket took him by surprise. The memory of that Christmas gift so long ago resonated in his mind in vivid color. He was no older than eight. His father had brought him into his secret confidence, and they spirited away all the spare change they could find for months until a few days before Christmas. His father had picked him up after school one day and they snuck down to the local jeweler to find the perfect gift. The heart-shaped locket. They had picked it out together. They had trimmed the tiny pictures and placed them inside it with love.

Her eyes had sparkled like blue diamonds when she opened the present. The memory of his father clasping the chain around her neck, and how she had turned and wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Blaine had forgotten until now how much they had loved one another, perhaps as a young boy had taken it for granted.

But here his father grasped the precious gift in his frail hand, as if the locket alone was his one connection to his beloved bride.

David’s gray eyes glistened as he met his son’s gaze. “I loved her,” he rasped. His lips were dry and cracked. Blaine enclosed the fragile hand, wrapping the treasure up in his father’s hand with his own sinewy palms, his gray eyes mirroring the moisture of the aged gaze before him.

“I know, Pop. I know,” he whispered. As he spoke the words, the realization it had always been that way finally sank in. His father loved his mother. Loved her more than Blaine had thought possible. The pain he had suffered with the loss of his mother was nothing compared to what his father had gone through. What it must have been like to lose his soul mate.

He held his father’s gaze a moment. Then glanced back at the truck. David followed his gaze.

“She’s a good one too,” he wheezed. “Like Mom.”

Blaine sighed and kept staring toward the truck. “Yeah, Pop.” Funny how his dad would say the exact thing he’d been thinking for the past several days. “Let’s go home.”





Chapter Nine





Blaine carried an armload of firewood through the back door and stacked it next to the wood burning stove. It was even colder than usual that night, so they would need the extra heat from the fire.

It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day. The unplanned trip to the grave had given him plenty to think about. It was more than simply making peace with his father, more than finally coming to terms with his mother’s death – though all of those things – it was the realization that what he felt for Mara was something much different than he had expected, which struck him most. The accompanying vulnerability rested uneasily upon him even in the peace he felt in the reconciliation with his father.

Mrs. Smith, the housekeeper had already left for the night, so the light footsteps entering the kitchen behind him spurred the butterflies in his stomach into indescribable acrobatics. Instead of looking up, he focused his energy on building the fire, half-hoping she would take care of her business and leave before he had to face her, but half-hoping she would stay.

When he heard the chair legs scraping against the wood floor, he knew she was there to stay. Blaine crammed a final log into the stove and latched the door, then he stood and dusted his hands off. Turning toward Mara, he forced a nonchalant grin.

“That should warm things up a bit.”

She nodded and her eyes studied him. It was unusual for her to be so quiet.

“You okay?” he asked with a measure of tempered concern.

Mara glanced at her hands folded on the table. Blaine sighed. She had something to say. He had a feeling it would do nothing to settle his own erratic emotions. Aside from the ride today, he had avoided being in such close proximity to her for several days. The encounter between them and how easily he had allowed it to happen had disturbed him deep into his soul.

His whole life he had been so careful to maintain control of himself. In one weak moment, he had let go and the result frightened him. It had been so easy with Mara. She affected him in a way no woman ever had.

The long silence didn’t bother Blaine. It was the way he operated most of the time. Thinking about every action; considering every word. Only in the comfort of the cockpit did he completely trust his instincts. In the air they saved him – on the ground, they got him into trouble.

Mara, on the other hand, rarely allowed the moss to grow in a conversation. Something was bothering her, something difficult for her to confess.

He lowered himself into the chair across from her, and her green eyes lifted to meet his gaze. They glistened with denied tears.

“I’m sorry… about today,” she started. “I shouldn’t have intruded. I should have just stayed out of it. I thought… I thought maybe–”

“Don’t,” Blaine interrupted. He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “You couldn’t have known.” The warmth of her touch rushed through him, and he remembered what it had been like to hold her soft body against his. The sweet fragrance of lilac on her smooth skin, the way her body had fit so perfectly in his arms – the memory almost pained him. Was it only five days ago? He dropped his gaze to her hands; it hurt too much to look into her eyes – those bright emeralds sparkling with unshed tears.