A Home by the Sea

A sound from the couch made him turn. He caught Grace’s pillow as she shoved it free in her sleep. She was a restless sleeper, twisting under the covers. Several times her lips shaped words that Noah couldn’t understand. Clearly, she was fighting old battles in her sleep.

Carefully, he slid her pillow back in place, listening to the hiss and pop of the fire. He should have been sleepy, but he was fully alert, aware of every noise and movement in the quiet house. Most of all he was aware of Grace sleeping so close.

He smelled her faint perfume and heard every breath she took. And the force of his awareness left him irritated.

A shadow fell over the floor. Noah realized his mother was holding up a dish towel and looking at him from the doorway.

Quietly, he crossed to the kitchen and closed the door so their noise wouldn’t wake Grace. “Dish duty again?”

“I’ll dry. You will wash. You’re very good at that. I trained all my sons very well,” Tatiana said with calm pride. “She is nice, Noah. I like her very much. But there is pain in her eyes. What did you say her job was?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. I think she writes magazine articles and does historical research on food, but we haven’t gotten that far. I only met her tonight, and that was completely by accident.”

His mother’s eyes narrowed. “A very wise man once told me there are no accidents. Only fate, my son. It is never wise to fight the touch of fate. But just the same, I hope you will be … safe.”

“Safe? I don’t understand.”

Tatiana frowned at him. “Probably not. But I see what I see. I hope you will find the right woman. One who makes your steps light with happiness.”

“Don’t worry about me. I take the days as they come. No attachments means no regrets.”

“For now. But not always. Someday I wish …” She touched his cheek and then rolled her eyes. “How like an interfering mother I sound. You will please ignore me.”

“You’re a hard person to ignore.”

“That is a very nice thing to say.” Tatiana hesitated. “I had a call from Matthew’s wife today.” She seemed to shape her words carefully. “They will not be coming for New Year’s. They will not be coming here for Valentine’s Day or Easter, either. She told me they’ve purchased a house.”

“Where? Virginia?”

“That’s what I thought. But no. Miranda is going to take my granddaughter across the country to Oregon. I had to look it up on a map. So far away. We will never see them.” Tatiana’s voice wavered.

Noah slid his arm around her trembling shoulders.

She had hidden her pain all during dinner, he realized. She had put on a good face. Now she could hide it no longer.

“You should have said something before this.”

“And ruin our first meal together in weeks? I’m not so weak. I will not let her steal our granddaughter out of our lives. Sophie has the right to know who her father was. How brave your brother was and how strong he was and how hard he worked. To serve and protect. He was so proud of his work,” Tatiana said with husky pride. “Sophie has the right to know her father’s family. And I will fight Miranda to make this so. I swear it with all my heart. She will not take her away and cut us off.” Her voice broke. “I have not told your father, my love. It will break his heart. He loves Sophie so much. His first grandchild,” she whispered.

“We all love Sophie,” Noah said gruffly. The sadness of losing his brother in the line of fire was still a fresh wound. Now were they to lose all contact with his young daughter? “What about her classes at school? Her friends?”

“Her mother insists she’ll have an equally good education in Oregon. She has already requested the transfer of Sophie’s files and enrolled her in a private school there. I think—I think that she has planned this for a long time, maybe right after Matthew’s death. But she never gave any clue. Such a woman, she is.” Tatiana took a harsh breath and forced a smile. “She thinks it is for the best perhaps. Maybe … maybe our family reminds her of all she has lost. I know that she did love Matthew once. Before the long hours made her bitter.” Noah’s mother looked at him and shook her head. “I think that Miranda is more worried about herself than anything else.” Tatiana looked away.

Noah realized that his mother looked tired and frail. The knowledge shocked him. He had always thought that her strength would never fail. She had been the toughest one of his family, steeled by a childhood of deprivation, war and loss.

But the day that she had lost her youngest son had been a nightmare that would walk with her always. A D.C. policeman, Matt had answered a midnight call and then received the full blast of a car bomb.

That explosion should have happened to him, Noah thought angrily. He was the one trained to deal with improvised explosive devices, not Matt. His team should have been dispatched to handle the device.

Due to a misreading of the situation, the wrong agency had been called in.

And gregarious, optimistic Matthew McLeod had been torn apart by a wall of destruction that hammered past at 26,000 feet per second. He had died instantly. The shadow of his loss would hang over them always.

“Mom, leave the dishes. I’ll finish them,” Noah said gruffly. “You should go and rest.”

“Nonsense. If I can’t dry a few pans and forks, what good am I? Now enough of this dark talk. Tell me about how you found this woman and her kittens.”

Noah put another pan into the hot soapy water. “She was rifling around in a Dumpster, ruining her evening clothes and not caring a bit. She looked—fearless,” he said thoughtfully. “As stubborn as she was frozen.”

“Stubborn? This would be good. And fearless, you say?” Tatiana picked up another wet plate, looking thoughtful. “I like very much that she rescued five creatures who had no one else to help them.” She looked at her son.

Noah met her gaze. “It was just an accidental meeting, Mom. We aren’t—involved. I barely know her.”

“And yet you would like to know her, yes?”

“Liking doesn’t change anything. She’s just visiting D.C. and I don’t have time in my life now for anything that’s serious. End of story.”

Tatiana pulled a clean plate from his hands. “You can’t hide from feelings and attachments forever, Noah. We all lost something too precious to imagine when Matthew died.” Her eyes shimmered. “He would not want us to live in the shadows of pain and loss. That was not your brother’s way.”

“I know. But I can’t forget and I won’t forgive.”

Tatiana’s eyes glistened with tears. “He wants us to start.” She put her hands flat on the counter, closing her eyes. “He would want us all to look forward instead of back.” She took a long breath. “Somehow we must try. Now leave the last pan, my love. We will have some tea and the rest of the poppy-seed cake while you tell me what really happened to you today at that job you never discuss.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I did not notice how your right shoulder hurts you or you rub your wrist? You did something brave and I think that you were hurt.”

Noah muttered under his breath. “I slipped on an icy step, Mom. Nothing brave or serious about that. My job is usually boring.” He shrugged. “It’s not like on TV. Mostly we sit and look at computers.”

“You are sure? You would not lie to me?” She stood very still.

Yet again Noah thought how fragile his mother had become in the year since his brother’s death. “Of course I’m sure. I was grabbing for my pager and I didn’t watch where I was walking. I landed on my arm, looking like a fool. End of story.” He carried his mother’s tea to the table and then went back for his own.

“I see. But next time you will be more careful, please, and watch where you walk.” She stared out at the snow, still falling hard. “And when you—look at your computers, you will also be careful. Promise me this,” she said fiercely.

“I will be. McLeod’s honor.”

“Good.” Tatiana squeezed Noah’s hand hard and took a deep breath. “Now finish that cake before your father comes looking for it. He always knows when there is one piece left, and I must help his willpower a little.”

WIND WHISPERED AGAINST the windows, driving snow against the glass. The house was quiet except for the hiss and pop of the fire that was still going in the room next door.

Tatiana McLeod was not afraid of silence or the dark. She welcomed the shadows as a friend. Only then would she see her lost son.

Matthew?

She stared at his old chair, empty near the window. Always empty.

The house was quiet yet full of small sounds. The settling of walls. Sleepy breaths that sounded against the snap of the fire. Even the restless kittens were finally asleep.

Tatiana stood in the dark kitchen, listening to all of it. This was hers, her oldest dream. This was the home that she had made by fierce effort, drawing her family around her, keeping them safe at all costs.

Except she had not kept her youngest son safe.