But instead of veering toward the front door, he slowed, leaned against one of the posts on the back porch, and stretched his legs.
Then he walked over to Ham.
Garrett always reminded Ham of an older version of Kevin Costner, lean, serious, pensive pale blue eyes, and a rare but sincere smile. He sat down next to Ham. Wiped his arm across his forehead. “We’re going to call that five miles, if my wife should ask.”
“At least.” Ham took a sip of his coffee. “Maybe even seven.”
“Let’s go with that.” Garrett leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. “I’m trying to keep my ticker from going out on me, like my brother’s did. What’s your excuse for getting up so early?”
Ham looked at his coffee.
“Right. Still stuck on a Ferris wheel.” Garrett shook his head. “I remember when the tornado blew through here—my son Creed was missing for five days, trapped with his cross-country team. I don’t think we slept more than an hour here or there the entire time we were looking for them.” He leaned back. “Hate to tell you this, but you don’t stop worrying about your children, no matter how old they are. I pray every day for Fraser, out in parts unknown, and Jonas, chasing storms, and Iris in Italy, and Ned, still in SQT with the SEALs, and—”
“Ned is a SEAL? How did I not know this?” Ham said. “Fraser never mentioned it.”
“You know how the Navy is—Ned shut down all his social media accounts when he went into BUD/S. SEALs are targets—”
“I know. I guess I’ve been in my own world.”
A hawk screeched out of the sky and scattered a flock of sparrows.
“What’s really going on, Ham? You were single last time we met—and now you have a ten-year-old daughter?”
It felt for a second like he’d sat down with his father on the porch, one of those rare occasions when his stepmother wasn’t around to shut them down. Ham’s chest tightened with the memory.
He liked Garrett. He was a man of faith. Prayer.
“I’m still married to her mother,” Ham said. “Her name is Signe, and we got married right after I made it through BUD/S. We grew up together on neighboring farms in a small town just south of Winona.”
“What happened?”
Ham took another sip of his coffee. “I don’t know. I was deployed right after we were married, and we hadn’t seen each other for an entire year—not a great start to marriage, I know. But I thought . . . well, I was pretty idealistic. She’d moved on with her life. Took me five years, but I finally found her. And when I did, she said she thought I got the marriage annulled.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
Ham sighed. “I don’t know what I wanted. I guess . . . well, maybe what I wanted wasn’t fair to her. I mean, I couldn’t expect her to sit around and wait for me to come home. She’d always dreamed of a bigger life. Doing something significant. Getting off the farm and seeing the world. And that’s exactly what she did.”
“What you both did,” Garrett said. “Except she did it with your daughter in tow.”
He hadn’t thought about that. The challenges she must have faced protecting and raising Aggie. “I didn’t know I had a daughter until a few months ago. She survived a boat wreck off the coast of Italy.”
He was still pushing the fact that Signe had kept Aggie a secret around his heart, trying not to let it land too long in one place, to put down roots and deepen the wounds.
“If I had known about Aggie, I would have gotten out of the military—”
“Really?” Garrett asked. “That’s a pretty big sacrifice for someone who’s worked so hard to become a SEAL. Maybe that’s why your wife didn’t tell you. Not that it excuses it, but maybe it might put a little pinprick into that hot ball of anger you have rolling around inside.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Sure you are. You lost ten years of your daughter’s life. Any father would be angry.”
Ham finished his coffee. “I’m just . . . well, I wish she would have asked for help.” He set the cup on the round stone fire pit. “Fact is, I think Signe is in trouble. Big trouble. And it has me worried. She’s still alive. I found a burner phone hidden inside a stuffed unicorn that she’d given Aggie, and I called her. She practically hung up on me, but not before she told me not to look for her.”
“Which only makes you want to look for her.”
Ham lifted a shoulder. “She grew up pretty rough. Her mother was a drug addict—meth—and Sig lived with her grandparents most of the time. But they were old and weren’t keen on raising another daughter, so she sort of ran wild. Got into trouble. And I got her out of it. That’s what I do. I look out for people. I help them. I don’t sit on my hands and wait. I find them and bring them home.”
“Especially if you think they’re in danger.”
Ham nodded.
“You can’t fix this, Ham.”
Ham frowned.
“I know you want to—that’s the way you’re built. You’re a good man who does good things for others. But the fact is, despite your desire to help, clearly she’s asked you to stay away. And that doesn’t just make you worried, it adds to your anger, because now you’re helpless.”
“Are you sure you’re just a vintner?”
“I coach hockey sometimes too.”
Ham surrendered to a smile. “No wonder Jenny speaks so highly of you. Said you really helped her when she lived here.”
“Jenny was our first foster child. Came to us pretty wrecked—her mother had just been murdered. Lots of counseling. Lots of anger. She dug into school, however, made great grades, and by the time she left for college, she had her head on straight.”
“I think Orion is hoping to ask for your blessing to marry her.”
Garrett smiled. “I know. Not that I have any say in Jenny’s life—she’s her own woman. But I’m honored that she still thinks of this place as home.”
Garrett got up. “You know, maybe your wife is still trying to protect you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“And Aggie?”
Ham drew in a breath.
“Fact is, maybe it’s not just your wife but God who wants you to wait. Maybe work a little on compassion. Forgiveness.”
Ham picked up his coffee cup, stared at the inside, the fragrance of coffee still emanating from the depths. He hadn’t thought about forgiveness—because of course he forgave her.
But yes, if he were honest, a dark ball of anger simmered inside him.
Maybe . . .
Well, what he wanted most was a face-to-face with the woman who had broken his heart, stolen the first ten years of his daughter’s life from him, and now refused to make it right.
Refused to let him help her.
Refused to come home.
So maybe yes, waiting was exactly the right thing to do. Because he might not like what came out if he were to have that little chat.
Or maybe, in that moment, God’s grace would blow in, take over.
That, of course, was the crux of it. Letting God be in charge. Ham blew out a breath. “I need more coffee.”