Free Suited (St. Martin Family Saga) by Gina Watson Page B

their child would always have Camp, Logan, Cory, Cal, Clay, and Clara. How wonderful to have so many people to love you when you hadn’t even been born yet.
    Isa had made a serious mistake. She needed to go home.
    She got back to Baton Rouge on Saturday. On Sunday morning she got up and drove to the cemetery. She planned to speak to Cash on Monday.
    She parked under a shade tree and picked up the flowers from the front seat. She always followed the same pattern, walking past other gravestones, honoring not only her child but those who surrounded him. She was happy with his resting place. It was peaceful here with the old oaks. Their arms created a canopy of shade on even the hottest of days.
    Isa found Cash sitting on a stone bench next to the grave. He held a teddy bear in his hands, and she could hear the nuances of his low voice, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She felt like an intruder on his very private moment, so she turned to walk away.
    He called her name.
    She turned to him.
    He stood and walked to her. “Are you here to visit?”
    “Yeah.” Isa held up the flowers. Cash grasped her free hand and led them back to the grave. He lowered his teddy bear and she, her flowers. They stood long moments in silence. When a car horn honked on an unseen road behind them, Cash reached for her hand and they turned away, strolling arm in arm under the canopy of trees.
    “Dad and Camp came after me in Las Vegas. They told me what you said, that you stood up to Dad on my behalf. You knew I’d changed, and you made them realize it too. I have, Isa. I’m not the boy I was years ago. But I did mess up again. Yet I came straight back for you. I know I told you I wouldn’t hurt you again and I meant that. I don’t expect you to forgive me again, but I wanted you to know the changes you observed in me were all because of you. You were there with me at every bender. You were there when I woke up. Every damned time. It was your face always that came to me. During detox, I survived because of this.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her the love letter she’d given him when she gave him the bracelet he still wore. “And this.” He handed her the picture his sister had taken of them the Christmas they’d gifted Clara with a digital camera. Both items were dog-eared and worn.
    She couldn’t understand. It didn’t seem that he’d ever let go of her. But why not call, or write, or stop by when in town for holidays? He hadn’t reached out at all.
    “When Dad came to Vegas, he told me that he’d had a gambling problem. He couldn’t pay a debt he owed, and some thugs roughed him up something awful. He almost died. It was my mother who saved him. She nursed him and had his debts paid. He’s got tattoos too. You know the burning aces on my back?”
    Isa nodded, trying to keep up with him.
    “He’s got the same tat, at least close enough. Crazy, huh?”
    Isa stopped walking and studied Cash. His eyes were clear, and he seemed relieved… No, not relieved exactly. Lighter. She hadn’t noticed that when he’d come to her in Mississippi, when all she’d noticed was his grief and her own, but she could see it now. He’d been freed of his terrible burden.
    “Dad told me he’d been the hardest on me because I’m the most like him. It’s weird now when I think about him. I always thought he’d been like he is now, you know, strict and uncompromising. I thought he didn’t like me because I was different, but I’m not. I’m just like him.”
    In that moment Isa could see the love and adoration Cash had for his father. He’d wanted his father’s acceptance for so, so long. He had it now, and she couldn’t be happier for Cash, the father of her child. The deep love of her soul.
    “I’m only telling you all this because all that stuff with Dad is behind me now. It won’t hold me back. Our future can be ours.” They resumed walking.
    So it all had to do with his father’s acceptance. The thought of