Dawn over Sun Valley Ch. 08

*

She wouldn't let him wait with her at the Santa Rosa Greyhound Station.

"Give me a hug and tell me you love me," she asked, and he did, and then he kissed her. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to go, but they both knew that she did. And then her hands came between them and pressed. Reluctantly, he took a step back.

"I love you, Leanne. Be happy."

"I love you too, Joe. Take care."

Her tears tore at him. He tried to reach for her, but she stepped aside and turned her back. "No. Don't. Please go."

Against every burning emotion in his heart, against every cell in his body that shouted at him to take her in his arms and never let her go, Joe turned, and walked away.

*

Leanne cried herself to sleep, curled on her side across two chairs toward the back of the bus with her head pillowed on her backpack. She woke up around Fairfield, lightheaded and disoriented, and then sat up and stared out the window, lost in thoughts.

Putting distance between them was the right thing to do. She needed some perspective. There were big decisions that she needed to make, and she couldn't make them based on naive wishful thinking and fairytale dreams. But her heart was heavier than she could ever remember.

*

Joe sat in his truck and watched the Greyhound bus leave. He drove by the bus station again, hoping against hope that he'd see Leanne there, but she was gone.

She was gone.

Back on the main street, The Lounge at The Santa Rosa Inn mocked him. See you soon, cowboy, it seemed to whisper, and Joe hit the steering wheel with his clenched fist. He hated that thought. The idea of going back to the hookup circle made his skin crawl.

He didn't want anyone else. He wanted Leanne. Just her.

He made a terrible mistake letting her go.

And yet, what other choice did he have?

His knuckles turned white. There's always a choice, some part of him insisted, but he'd been through that in his mind already, over and over. Yes, there was another choice, but the risk was too big for him to take. He couldn't put his own happiness ahead of his family's.

He could still remember, all too vividly, his father's breakdown all those years ago, after his mother died. He seemed to lose his will to live, and for too long they were afraid they'd lose him, too. Then he watched the man pick himself up, piece by piece, somehow gluing them together to become the head of their crippled family once more. But although he seemed whole again, Joe couldn't forget those cracks. And he would never, ever, risk another blow.

If his father shattered now, he may never be put together again.

*

He couldn't return home. Not yet. Once he did, it would truly be over.

Joe sat at his usual spot, watching his favorite place in the world changing colors under the setting sun.

But today, no bliss descended, only vast emptiness. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he flipped through his photos until he found the one that was etched to his heart. Leanne, laughing, her face brightly lit by the dawn, her strawberry-blond hair streaming behind her head, its highlights glittering like a princess's tiara.

He tried positioning the picture inside the view. It didn't work. The lighting was all off. It was as if she never belonged there at all. Maybe it was a sign.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed to his feet and shuffled back to his truck.

*

She was sitting at the familiar, worn kitchen table across from her friend, both of them hugging warm cups of cocoa.

She was exhausted. She had arrived at Sacramento a little after six thirty in the evening, and Elaine was there at the bus station to pick her up. When they got home the kids were all over her; their excitement and their sweet hugs heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Was she ready for that kind of commitment? Could she do it on her own?

She managed to keep it together until they were all tucked in after having read them their stories, and then escaped to the shower and cried her eyes out. She hoped the warm water would help calm her down, but even snuggled in Elaine's soft fleece pajama under the fluffy blanket in her old bed off Sophie's room, she couldn't go to sleep. Not with the insistent churning in her belly. She needed to unload; she needed her friend's clear, unbiased point of view and her steadfast support.

So she padded back down to the kitchen, where Elaine and Jim were speaking in hushed, worried tones. They stopped when they saw her, and Jim promptly excused himself to his study, leaving the women alone together in the cozy space.

Elaine made them cocoa, like she always did when they needed to talk, and then sat down across from her.

"Okay, sweetie. Spill. What happened?"

Leanne burst up crying. It took several long moments wrapped in Elaine's warm hug before she managed to get any words out.

"I'm pregnant, Elaine. And I don't know what to do."

"Aw, sweetie..." Elaine hugged her again and Leanne clung to her, thankful beyond measure for the lack of judgment in the older woman's voice. When they finally drew back, Elaine looked at her expectantly, but said nothing. With a deep breath, Leanne told her everything.

"He doesn't know. I just found out this morning. I love him, Elaine. And he says he loves me, too, but we can't be together; not with our histories. He said if it were just him and me he would want to, but as it is..." She shook her head. "I don't know what to do. I couldn't stay there."

"I'm glad you came here, sweetie." Elaine paused, and then found her eyes. "You need to tell him."

Leanne swallowed. "What good would it do? It won't change our histories."

"It's the right thing to do." Her friend gently insisted. Leanne bowed her head. "Trying to do the right thing is what got me in this mess in the first place."

"It's not the same thing, and you know it. What you decided to do for William may have been noble, but honestly, I never understood it. It was never your debt to pay. This - telling Joe he had fathered a baby - this is your moral obligation, Leanne. It's on you, one hundred percent."

Leanne buried her face in her hands. "God, what a mess."

Elaine squeezed her wrist, and then let her go and leaned slightly back. "You don't have to do it tonight or tomorrow, sweetie. But you know you'll need to, eventually. Better start working up that courage of yours. I know you have it in you. And you know I've got your back."

Leanne swallowed hard. "I - I'll think about it, I promise." She breathed in. "Will you - keep this to yourself for now?"

Elaine's look shot daggers at her. "After everything we've been through, you even need to ask?" And then her face softened. "Go to bed, sweetie. I promise everything will be clearer after you've had a good night's sleep."

Leanne nodded, and did as she was told.

*

The next day, she called Melissa. Bill's fiancé answered on the second ring.

"Leanne, oh gosh, it is so good to hear from you. I thought you decided you didn't want anything to do with us."

"Um, yeah, hi. I'm - could we meet, maybe? Just you and me again?"

Melissa agreed heartily. A few hours later, they met at the same coffee shop as they did months before.

"So, you've given my request some more thought? Any chance you'd meet with William?" The older woman's voice held so much hope, Leanne hated to disappoint her. With a grimace, she clarified. "I - no, I don't want to meet him."

"Oh -" The excitement died in the other woman's face.

"I do, however, have something for you." Leanne interrupted her, and, with unsteady hands, pulled out the envelope that seemed to have weighed a ton in her purse. She placed it on the table between them.

"What is it? A letter to William?" Melissa asked with renewed curiosity, and Leanne shook her head, and then, softly, explained what she did. Bill's fiancé sat back, her eyes wide and her jaw slack, so shocked Leanne worried for a moment she may actually pass out.

"You did WHAT?!"

Leanne shrugged helplessly. "I thought it would work in everyone's favor. I was planning on temping on one of those farms, anyways. It seemed - it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Melissa shook her head. "I don't know what to say. I can't take this money from you, Leanne. This - this is mind-boggling."

Leanne reached for the older woman's hand. "The checks are already cancelled. I crossed them out. The money is in the MaConnels' bank, and it won't be going anywhere. It's a done deal. I just want William to know that - that I want you two to be free to - to start over together." She swallowed hard. "Please, take this. Give it to William. Tell him I said it was my wedding gift to you both."

Melissa sat across from her, twin streams of tears running down her soft, wrinkled cheeks. "I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll be happy." Leanne whispered. "Please."

The older woman rose and came around to hug Leanne tight. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Leanne returned her hug, and then withdrew. "I need to go."

Melissa released her reluctantly, and sat back, still looking dazed, as Leanne stood up and walked away with a new, unfamiliar spring to her step. Despite everything else, she was glad that she did it. It may not have been her debt to pay, but somehow, it made her feel better to know that it was settled.

*

They were halfway through their sync-up on Halloween morning when Tammy's desk phone rang. His father stopped mid-sentence and looked at his daughter, who winced apologetically, and picked up on speaker.

"Sun Valley Farm, this is Tammy."

"Tammy, good morning. This is Dr. Lewis calling to hear how our patient is doing."

Tammy rose her eyes in question to him. Joe's answered grimly, loud enough for the mic to catch his voice.

"Dr. Lewis, this is Joe. Leanne left the farm last week. She went back to Sacramento."

There was silence on the other side of the line, followed by a terse - "I see."

Everyone in the room - his father, his sister, and even Todd, looked at him questioningly. Joe cleared his throat. "Ahem, is there a problem we should be aware of, doctor?"

There was another long pause. "I - no. There isn't. I was just following up."

Unlike some other people who simply let her go, Joe's conscience was poking at him mercilessly. Not that it was true; he had thought of little other than Leanne in the days since she'd left. Still, he didn't do that basic, decent thing - call and see how she was doing, if she were recovering properly.

Joe cursed under his breath, and then turned to leave. "Excuse me, everybody." he muttered, and marched over into his own office, shutting the door closed behind him. Once there, he pulled his phone out, and called Leanne.

It rang and rang until it went to voicemail. Joe hung up, and texted her instead.

*Leanne, are you okay? Please call me. J.*

He threw his phone on his desk. There was a knock on his door, and a moment later it opened and his father entered, closing it quietly behind him.

"What's going on between you and Leanne?" His father didn't beat around the bush.

"Nothing, dad. She's gone. I'm just worried about her, that's all." He evaded his father's look.

"Why the hell did you break up with her, son? Obviously you care for her." His father's gaze was disapproving. Joe wanted to hit something. You don't want to know, dad.

"I do, dammit. I care about her. A whole damn lot. But there were - fundamental incompatibilities between us that we couldn't get past."

His father looked at him with open skepticism. "That sounds like a load of BS."

For a moment, Joe was sorely tempted to tell his father the truth. But in the end, he chickened out. You can't risk it, Joe. Remember? That's why you had to let her go in the first place.

"It's none of your business, dad." He hissed instead. His father raised his eyebrows as if to challenge that statement - over the years, his kids had made their private issues his business more often than not, and he was proud of that fact - but seeing Joe's dark expression, decided to give it up.

"Fine. Mope if you want to. You know where to find me when you want to talk."

Joe nodded tersely, and his father turned on his heel and left without another word.

*

"I spoke to my doctor. The OB/Gyn. She agreed to take you on pro-bono, and scheduled an appointment for you tomorrow."

Leanne raised her head to look at Elaine. Her knee-jerk reaction was to protest - pro-bono?! She wasn't a charity case! - but then she thought better of it. She was, in fact, a charity case. And she needed the doctor's appointment. Leanne breathed in, and pasted on a smile.

"Thank you. I'll put it in my calendar. What time will it be?" She was patting her back pocket for her phone, but then remembered she left it charging in her room.

"Ten AM!" Elaine called after her as she disappeared into the hallway to get it. Leanne grabbed the device from her nightstand and punched in a new appointment in her calendar, and then noticed the small icons notifying her about an unanswered call and a new text message. Switching over, she sat down heavily as Joe's text glared back at her from her screen.

*Leanne, are you okay? Please call me. J.*

"Leanne?"

She looked up to see Elaine at the doorway, a crease marring her forehead.

"I - I got a text message from Joe."

"Oh." Elaine came to sit next to her on the bed, and read the message over Leanne's hunched shoulder.

"You need to tell him." Elaine said quietly.

Biting her lips so hard she tasted blood, Leanne nodded.

"I know." She whispered. Then she straightened, took a deep breath, and keyed in her message.

*Yes, I'm okay. I'll call tonight. L.*

She hit 'send', and turned to look at Elaine. "I have until tonight to figure out what I want to say."

Elaine smiled gently. "You'll be fine, sweetie. Now, wanna take your mind off of this for a little while? I've got three kids to dress up for Halloween, and we need to go candy shopping. You'll have the house for yourself tonight when we take the kids trick-or-treating."

Leanne nodded gratefully. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Elaine."

*

Halloween was an exceptionally quiet day at the farm, a fitting start to the low season. No families ever visited on the day of the holiday; even the worst procrastinators had bought their last pumpkins the day before. With the morning chores and midday milking behind them, and with no more tasks to do out on the fields that day, lunch was a laid back affair. Everyone was looking forward to a more-or-less free afternoon.

Joe, Tammy and their dad were walking back around the house from the dining hall to the main door when an old, beat-up Toyota appeared at the gates, and crawled to a stop in front of them.

An older couple stepped out. The woman who had been driving looked somewhere in her fifties. The man, who was slower to come around, leaning against the car as he walked across the uneven gravel, seemed older. They stood there, looking uncertain and anxious.

Joe stepped toward them, motioning to his father and sister to hold on.

"Hi. Welcome to Sun Valley Farm. May I help you?"

The man was at a loss for words. The woman threw him a worried look, and then turned and stretched her hand out.

"Hi, my name is Melissa Berns, and this is my fiancé, William. We were looking for Mr. McConnel?"

Joe turned to see his father step forward and put a heavy, unexpected hand on his shoulder, as if to restrain him.

"I'm Michael McConnel, and this is my son, Joe, and my daughter Tammy." He looked at the older man. "And I know who you are, Mr. Richardson." He stopped, squeezing his son's shoulder hard when he felt Joe take a step back as recognition hit him. Joe could hear Tammy's choked gasp behind them, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the weathered old man who looked grimly back at his father, his lined eyes dark and anguished. The woman next to him laced her fingers in his and then raised her chin and broke the deafening silence.

"Mr. McConnel, could we - could we sit down and talk somewhere?"

Joe could feel the trembling start somewhere around his knees - fear and rage pouring together into a dangerous, potent mixture. But before he could say or do anything, his father's fingers grabbed his arm in a vice-like hold, biting into his flesh, stopping him in his tracks.

"Come on inside. We'll sit in the kitchen."

His father's voice was surprisingly steady and low, darn near polite. Joe couldn't breathe. Tammy recovered first, and found her voice, too. "Follow me, please." she said, and started toward the house. A moment later, the older couple followed, and Joe noticed how the woman supported the man - that man - as they ascended the stairs slowly. He himself felt planted to the ground; he couldn't make his legs move.

His father released him and turned as if to go after the others, and now it was Joe's turn to grab his arm.

"What the f- dad?! How can you invite him into our home like that?!" He meant to shout the words, but they came out only as a hoarse whisper.

His father stopped and looked at him evenly. "It took a hell of a lot of courage for him to come here, Joe. I might as well listen to what he has to say."

"What difference does it make what he has to say?!" His voice was getting stronger, and he had to shout over the roar of blood in his own ears. "This man is a killer. What the fuck do I care what he has to say?"

His father inhaled sharply, and then levelled his son with a look that left no room for argument.

"Listen to me, son. This man killed your mother. Yes. But that was twenty years ago. None of us are the same people. If he were still the same careless, reckless drunk, he wouldn't be here now. Thank God I'm no longer the clinically depressed emotional wreck that I was. And you and Tammy are no longer little kids terrified by their family falling apart. This man came here to talk to us after all this time, and, by God, we are going to listen."

Joe paled, his breath stolen by swift, merciless realization. He folded over, leaning his hands on his knees as he fought for breath.

"Are you okay, son?" His father's face softened in concern. A moment later, at his father's urging, Joe stumbled over to the stairs and sat down heavily. His father settled next to him, his arm hugging him by his shoulders as if to keep him from collapse.

"What's going on, Joe? Talk to me."

Joe took a shuddering breath, and forced himself to look into his father's eyes.

"You all may have grown up in the last twenty years, but me - I never stopped acting like a scared shitless ten year old. God!"

He buried his face in his hands. Shame and guilt sliced at his gut, making it damn hard to breathe.

"What are you talking about, Joe?"

"I'm talking about Leanne, Dad. I -" His throat closed, clogged with his emotions. His father fell silent next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. When he finally raised his head, his father spoke carefully.

"I may be a little slow here, but - what the hell does Leanne has to do with all this?"

Joe's head snapped back, and barked a surprised, wholly inappropriate laugh. His father tilted his head, and waited. Joe took a few slow, steadying breaths, and finally met his eyes.

"Leanne is William Richardson's daughter, dad."

His father blinked and gasped, and then dropped his gaze, shaking his head slightly. Joe shifted toward him, feeling the familiar panic climbing quickly toward his throat. "Dad -"

His father looked up, and Joe stopped short at the disappointment - the sadness - he saw in them.

"Is that why you broke up with her, Joe?" He asked quietly.