River's End (River's End Series, #1)(57)

She shuddered as the images refilled in her head. Her mother. Dead. Her mother in the car, lifeless. She closed her eyes and re-experienced herself crying, shaking, and screaming at her mother. But Lorna, for once, didn’t reply.

Tears started to fall down her face. She stood up, and started toward one of the ranch roads. She zig-zagged over the fields and ended up along the river. The river lay thirty feet down the bank with boiling rapids. It was where the Rydells had their private cemetery. Erin had seen it, but never ventured very close. Today, however, she felt bad and morbid enough to wander through the gate. Looking around, she saw a dozen tombstones that were raised up in perfect, perpendicular lines. Many of the dates on the gravestones went back to the mid-eighteen hundreds. Erin glanced towards the opposite end, where the most recent additions lay: the Rydells’ parents, and Jack’s wife. Erin stared at the headstone. Lily Marie Carter Rydell, Wife, Mother, Beloved. She died over five years ago.

Charlie would have been three, and Ben only ten. Jack would have just been thirty. That seemed so young to be widowed and alone, having to raise two boys, along with Joey, who would have been just fifteen at the time.

Erin sat down on a stone bench near Lily’s grave. The river sparkled like a new quarter in the sunlight. The air was soft and comforting, as the sun’s rays warmed her face. Erin closed her eyes. It was so quiet, she could hear the insects in the grass, as well as the birds twittering in the trees. It was the most peaceful spot she could think of spending her time today.

Tears tipped over her eyelids again. She never had a moment’s peace in her entire childhood. Not while living in the chaotic, transient, volatile world that reflected her mother’s emotional turmoil.

Yet somehow, she landed here. Here with Jack.

Her eyes opened. No. She was here just to be here. This beautiful spot. She was ensconced in the quiet security and peace that the land provided, and the mountains embraced, and most of all, the kindness of the entire Rydell family.

She shook her head. This was not a good day for her. All the grief from her past felt thick in her lungs. She felt like someone laid her down and piled a ton of river rocks on her chest.

She stood up suddenly when she heard a strange noise. Coming down the road were Jack, Ben and Charlie. She cursed softly. Of course, they would come here today. Mother’s Day had to be as bad for them as it was for her. Sometimes, her shortsightedness and selfishness stunned even her.

Jack looked completely different than she’d ever seen him. He wore black dress slacks with a light blue, button-up shirt. He’d taken his tie off, undone the top buttons at his throat, and untucked the ironed shirt. Still, he looked different. She’d only ever seen him in jeans, tshirts, flannels, and worn boots. His red hair glinted under the sun in deep auburn and blonde highlights. He was rarely without a hat, and she nearly stepped back in shock. He looked younger than usual.

She bit her lip. She should not have come here. Not today. Not while they came to pay their respects to their wife and mother. She only came there because she sought the ambiance of the cemetery for her unfettered grief. Now she just looked weird and morbid.

“Erin.”

Erin smiled as Charlie came running up to her. In the few days since the Tea at his school, he decided she was his friend. He always had bright smiles and good cheer when he spotted her. He often joined her while she tended the horses or went to the beach.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at Charlie, and casting a weary glance at Jack. He couldn’t possibly be glad that she was there.

Ben came towards her, looking like a younger, fresher version of Jack with his own dress-up clothes. He leaned down and put the pink roses he carried on top of his mother’s grave. Erin stepped back, which resulted in her stepping into Jack. She instantly pushed herself away from him and jumped to the side.

“I should go.”

“Why do you have to?” Charlie asked as he came nearer and slipped his hand into hers. She looked down, feeling as startled as if a bee just stung her. Her heart melted at Charlie’s small, clammy, boy hand in hers. He was looking at his mother’s grave with an expression of confusion. It must have been hard to grieve for someone you couldn’t remember.

Jack’s gaze was on her profile, and dropped to where his son held her hand. She finally turned her head to him, fearing the scorn she expected to find on his face.

“Enjoying the vibes?” he asked finally.

She frowned at him. His tone and facial expression were utterly neutral. But she saw the slight tic at the corner of his mouth. He was just kidding. Unbelievably to her, Jack was kidding while she stood near his wife’s grave, holding his son’s hand.

She shook her head vigorously. “It seemed like the place to go today.”

He nodded. “I get that.” He stepped forward, dropped to a knee, and lay down the single red rose he held in his hand. His head bent into the gravestone as his lips moved silently. He was praying. Ben, too, held his head down, but Charlie merely stared out towards the river.

Jack straightened up and walked a few feet over, where he lay the other bouquet of wild flowers on top of his parents’ grave. She noticed he didn’t bend over them with quite the sickening gravity that he did with his wife. God, what a burden. Losing both his parents and his wife. The man literally looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And how did he respond to his newfound responsibilities? By becoming the most capable, accountable, dependable, caring, stable man she’d ever met. She couldn’t even manage taking care of herself with any kind of decent, sustainable consistency. By the time Jack was her age, he’d already been running a ranch, raising three young boys, while supervising his other two brothers. The clashes in their life patterns were staggering, and their choices of how to deal with their lives were just as drastic.