The quicker she left Sonora and the memories behind, the easier the past would be to accept—and forget.
Chapter Five
Josh hugged his son close. He was grateful his father had had the foresight to take Griff to the hospital before school the day before Mrs. G. died. He hated to think of the pain Griff would have suffered had he not had the chance to say goodbye to the woman who had helped raise him.
Thankfully Rachel had been able to say goodbye, too. He scanned the crowd. He’d seen her earlier talking with Mr. and Mrs. Poe, then he’d lost sight of her.
She was putting on a good show of strength. Though her complexion was ghostly pale and her eyes were a little glazed, she’d smiled and moved gracefully through the funeral service and the reception.
She looked very mature and womanly in her black tailored suit with her hair pulled up into a fancy twist. When they’d talked briefly at the cemetery, she’d been distant and polite, but he could see by the tiny lines bracketing her mouth and the way she had to blink constantly to fight tears, that she was struggling to keep her composure.
Where was she? He frowned. She shouldn’t have to deal with her grief alone. He started to usher his son toward the door in search of Rachel when he saw her sitting by the window. She looked composed and serene, but he knew inside she had to be crumbling. He steered Griff toward the window.
As they approached, she turned and he saw a flicker of an emotion he couldn’t identify in her eyes. But then it was gone and she smiled with distant, polite interest.
“Rachel, I’d like you to meet my son, Griff. Griff, this is Rachel Maguire.”
Rachel held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Griff.”
Griff took her hand. “You’re in the picture with my dad at Mrs. G.’s house.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Yes, I am. How did you know?”
“Mrs. G. takes care of me when Dad and Grandpa work.”
Rachel fought the burning behind her eyes at the boy’s use of the present tense. She could only imagine the grief the child would suffer when he realized that Mom G. wasn’t coming back.
Josh cleared his throat. She saw the same concern in his eyes.
“When you’re ready to leave, let me know and we’ll give you a ride to your hotel,” he said.
“That won’t be necessary.” She didn’t want to rely on anyone, especially Josh, for anything.
He gave her a pointed look. “Yes, it is.”
Annoyance arced though her. Their promise to Mom G. didn’t include his services as chauffeur.
He set his jaw and grated out a warning, “Rachel.”
From across the room, Rod called out Josh’s name.
Rachel turned her attention to Griff. “So who’s your favorite baseball team?”
“The Mariners.”
“Seattle fan, huh?” She nodded sagely. “I’m a Cubs fan myself.”
“They’re in Chicago.”
Rachel laughed softly. “That’s right, they are.”
Josh placed a hand on Griff’s shoulder. “Come on, Griff. Let’s give Rachel some space. Let’s go find Grandpa.”
Griff gestured with his thumb. “He’s over there.”
“I know he’s over there, son. I need you to come with me. We’ll come back and take Rachel home when she’s ready.”
Rachel ground her teeth, but didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t argue with Josh in front of his son.
“Aw, Dad. I wanna stay here and talk to her.”
“He can hang with me.” Rachel blinked up at Josh, half expecting him to say no way.
“Okay. Then we’ll take you home,” he said firmly.
Their promise didn’t give him a license to try to control her, but she didn’t have the energy to point that out to him. “Fine.”
Josh nodded and moved away, sapping the air of its heat and leaving her chilled.
“I have a baseball card collection.”
Rachel turned her attention back to Griff. “You do?” An unfamiliar yearning crowded her senses. She supposed she was drawn to him because this boy was so like his father.
“It used to be Dad’s, but he gave it to me. Now I collect them.”
“How old are you, Griff?”
“I’m eight.”
Rachel absorbed that information with a bit of shock. Josh and Andrea had waited before having a child. She’d expected them to start a family right away because that was what he’d wanted. “You look like your dad.”
Griff grinned. “Everybody says that.”
“I see your mother in you, too.” His hair was more the color of Andrea’s and the shape of his nose favored her, as well.
“You knew my mom?”
Rachel smiled compassionately. “We all went to high school together.”
“What was she like?”
She blinked. “Don’t you remember her?”
He shook his head. “She died in a car accident when I was a baby.”
This news carried the weight of a punch to the solar plexus. Andrea had died nearly eight years ago. Rachel had assumed because Josh was still grieving that she’d died fairly recently.
Griff had grown up without a mother. Josh had raised his son from infancy all by himself. She had no doubts that Rod helped, but that Josh took on the responsibility made her admire him in a way she hadn’t before. And made her ache for both Josh and his son. Ached for what they’d lost.
“Why are you crying?”
Rachel wiped at the tear coursing down her cheek and gave a shaky laugh. “I…don’t know.”
“Are you sad because Mrs. G. died?”
She nodded, surprised and relieved he understood that Mom G. was gone. She’d underestimated the child.
“She’s in a better place now, where there’s no pain.”
“Did your daddy tell you that?”
“Yes. Mrs. G.’s in heaven with my mom.”
Rachel hurt for this little boy, for what he’d miss. She hurt for herself, for the hole Mom G. left in her life. She hurt for Josh.
In an unfamiliar moment of need, Rachel hugged the boy. He smelled clean, like sunshine and fresh air. And when his little arms wrapped around her neck, she couldn’t stop the sob that broke free.
“Shh, its okay,” Griff said, his voice so grown up, so like Josh’s.
Rachel forced herself to let go. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
Griff cocked his head to one side. “Why?”
“You don’t know me.”
“Sure I do. You’re Mrs. G.’s daughter. She talked about you all the time.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Did she?”
“Yep. Hey, will you come to church tomorrow?”
That the next day would be Sunday hit her like a blast of cold air. Her normally ordered and scheduled life was in disarray. With all the emotional stress of the past few days, she’d lost