staining the grass.
'He kicked my dog,' was all she said, and moved by him into the house.
'Jesus Christ, Burke.'
'I'll take care of this out here.' Burke holstered his gun and exchanged it for his walkie-talkie. 'Go on in with her. See that she stays inside until this is done.'
Tucker found her in the parlor, sitting in the rocker with the dazed dog across her lap.
'Honey.' He crouched down beside her, stroking her face, her hair. 'Honey, did he hurt you?'
'He was going to kill me.' She kept rocking, afraid if she stopped she'd go mad. 'With the knife. He could have shot me, but he had to do it with the knife. Like Edda Lou, he said.' The dog began to stir and whine in her lap. Caroline lifted him up against her breast like a baby. 'It's all right now. It's all right.'
'Caroline, Caroline, look at me, honey.' He waited until she turned her head. Her pupils were so dilated, the irises were hardly more than a green aura around them. 'I'm going to take you upstairs. Come on now, I'll carry you up and call the doctor.'
'No.' She let out a long breath as Useless licked her chin. 'I'm not going to be hysterical. I'm not going to fall apart. I fell apart in Toronto. All kinds of pieces. Not again.' She swallowed, pressing her cheek against the dog's fur. 'I was making corn bread. I'd never made corn bread before. Happy gave me her recipe, and I was going to take it over to Susie's. It feels so good being a part of this place.' Useless licked away a tear that trickled down her cheek. 'You see, I thought I was coming here just to be alone, but I didn't know how much I needed to be a part of something.'
'It's going to be all right,' he said helplessly. 'I promise it's going to be all right.'
'I was making corn bread in my grandmother's oven. And I shot Austin Hatinger with my grandfather's gun. Do you think that's strange?'
'Caroline.' He cupped her face. She could see the streaks of violence and fury in his eyes that he so carefully filtered out of his voice. 'I'm just going to hold you for a while, is that all right?'
'All right.'
She let her head rest on his shoulder when he picked her up. Saying nothing, he carried both her and the pup to the couch and cradled them there. They both ignored the phone when it rang.
'I'm going to stay here tonight,' he told her. 'Down here on the couch.'
'I'm not falling apart, Tucker.'
'I know, darlin'.'
She let out a sigh. 'The oven timer's still buzzing.' She bit her lip to try to steady her voice. 'I guess I burned the corn bread.'
She turned her face into his shoulder and wept.
Chapter Nineteen
Caroline came downstairs feeling hollowed-out by the aftereffects of shock and sleeping pills. She had no idea what time it was, only that the sun was strong and her house was quiet as a tomb.
It was already sultry. Even the thin cotton robe seemed too heavy and hot against her skin. She thought she'd take her coffee iced-in her car. With the air-conditioning running.
She'd killed a man.
That single raw fact had her stopping at the base of the stairs, her fist pressed against her heart like a runner catching her wind after a punishing sprint. And like a runner's, her legs went rubbery so that she sat on the landing, propping her head in her hands.
She had pumped two bullets into flesh, exchanging her life for another's. Oh, she knew it was a matter of self-defense. Even without Burke's gentle questions and quiet support, she knew that. Some circuit in Austin Hatinger's brain had snapped and caused him to turn on her.
But circumstances didn't change the result. She'd taken a life. She, whose most violent act had been throwing a champagne flute against the wall in the Hilton Hotel in Baltimore, had ripped two.45 slugs into a man she'd never even had a conversation with.
It was a big leap, she thought, rubbing her hands over her face. And maybe her legs were a little shaky after landing, but she'd discovered something else about herself.
She could live with it.
She would not search for a way to put the blame on herself. She would not agonize over how she could have avoided, prevented, or changed the outcome. That was the old Caroline's weakness, that delusion of self- importance that had made her believe she had the right, the responsibility, the
No, Caroline Waverly was not going to listen to that sneaky little voice that crept inside her brain to whisper about blame and fault and mistakes.
She rose, turning toward the kitchen before the scratching at the front door had her heart doing a cartwheel. Even as the scream tickled the back of her throat, she recognized Useless's whimpering. The scream died to a puff of air as she stepped forward to open the door.
Fevered with gratitude, the dog rushed in to make desperate jumps around her, his tail slicing the air in his delight and relief.
'What were you doing out there?' She bent to scratch his ears and accept his loyal licks of affection. 'How'd you get outside?'
He yipped, scrambling around her legs, feet skidding in a search for traction on the polished hardwood before he dashed off to the parlor.
'Is this like a Lassie thing?' Caroline asked as she followed him. 'I hope you're not taking me to where Timmy's fallen down the well or…' She trailed off, spotting Useless sitting smugly on the floor beside the sofa. And Tucker, bare-chested, bare-footed, sprawled over it.
He didn't look innocent in sleep, she noted. There was simply too much wit and wickedness in his face for that. But he did look decidedly uncomfortable. His feet hung over one end of the two-seater sofa, and his neck was crinked to accommodate the curve between cushion and arm. His arms were folded across his belly, less for dignity, Caroline decided, than for the fact that he hadn't been able to find any other space for them. Despite the awkward position and the stream of sunlight falling directly in his eyes, his chest rose and fell gently with deep, even breathing.
She'd forgotten he'd stayed, but it came flooding back to her now. How kind he'd been, how tenderly he'd held her while she'd cried out her shock. And the quiet strength he'd offered just by holding her hand while Burke questioned her.
Tucker had been the one to take her up to bed, sliding over her protests as patiently as a father guiding an overtired child. He'd sat with her while the sleeping pill had trickled through her bloodstream. And to chase away those last shadows of fear, he'd remained on the side of the bed, her hand in his, and had told her some silly story about his cousin Ham who ran a used-car dealership in Oxford.
The last thing she remembered was something about a '72 Pinto that had dropped its transmission five feet out of the lot, and a dissatisfied customer with a five-gauge.
She felt the lock on her heart snick open, and sighed.
'You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Tucker?'
Useless perked up at the name, then leapt up to bathe Tucker's face. Tucker grunted, shifted. 'Okay, honey. In a minute.'
Amused, Caroline stepped closer. 'I hope it's worth the wait.'
Tucker's lips curved as he reached out to cuddle the dog. 'It's always worth…' His hand slid down the dog's back to the gleefully swinging tail. Slowly, his lashes fluttered up and he studied the furry face grinning into his. 'You're not quite what I had in mind.'
Undiscouraged, Useless scrambled his hind legs until he'd gained Tucker's chest. Tucker gave the dog's head an absent scratch, then closed his eyes again. 'Didn't I put you out once?'
