I keep telling you, you don’t need to stay here for me. You go on home. I’ll just stay here and wait for the-”
He snaked out a hand and caught her by the arm. She sucked in air as her head snapped around and her eyes burned at him like a tiger’s in the night.
“Hey,” he said softly, “come ’ere.”
“What?” she demanded in a hushed voice as he drew her slowly toward him. Her eyes were wary…still those of a tiger, but a frightened one now, ears flattened and fangs showing, ready to flee.
What do you want from me?
With pounding heart, deceptively relaxed, he guided her between his outstretched legs as he leaned, half- sitting, against the dresser. “Just come ’ere for a minute, and look at me.”
“What do I want…” Troy looked away for a moment, then heaved a sigh and brought his gaze back to her pale, tense face. “Look, you s‘pose we could manage to spend a night makin’ love and still look one another in the eye in the mornin’? Think we could do that? Jeez Louise, woman, what are you, some kind of shrinking maiden or somethin’?”
“That’s me,” said Charly with a dry laugh. “Definitely.”
He brushed her chin with his thumb, then leaned his body forward and gently, gently kissed her.
“Look,” he murmured, pulling back just enough so he could see her eyes-eyes that now held the warm, unfocused glow of confusion. Whiskey eyes. “I don’t know about you, but my feelings don’t crawl into a coffin come daylight. Nothin’ here’s changed. Yesterday I was your friend, last night I was your lover, this morning I’m still the same guy-friend
“Issues…” She laughed and leaned against him, and he could feel her body trembling slightly. He wrapped his arms and his body protectively around her, wishing he could protect her heart the same way.
“You know what’s really bothering you, don’t you?” he murmured, combing his fingers through her hair. Her head moved affirmatively against his hand. Then she turned her face into his chest in a quick little movement of denial, like a mouse looking for a place to hide.
“Dobrina’s right,” he went on, his voice growing husky. “You need to show your son that diary. He needs to know the truth.” She pulled herself slowly back, one hand flat against his chest as if, he thought, by pushing him away she would keep the words away, as well. He held her gently by the shoulders, denying her escape. “He wants to understand, can’t you see that? He wants to understand the reason why his daddy killed himself.” Her mouth popped open, letting a strangled sound escape. He touched her lips with a finger and finished softly, “Honey, he needs to know it wasn’t your fault.”
Her eyes turned liquid and spilled over. He felt his own eyes burning as he took her face between his two hands and brushed away the moisture with his thumbs. “You made a promise,” he said thickly. “And you never broke it. You didn’t, not even in that diary of yours, not on purpose. But Dobrina knew the truth soon as she read it, and so did I. Cutter’s gonna know it, too. Maybe not right away, but he’ll figure it out…that his daddy killed himself to spare you both from a lifetime of livin’ a lie.”
There was no answer, save for a long, quivering breath. And then she closed her eyes, and her face seemed to crumple in his hands. Nothing for him to do then but fold her in and hold her close and keep her safe while she sobbed.
“He’s not here,” Charly said as she opened the door of the Cherokee and climbed in. She sounded a lot more out of breath than she should have been, just from running down the steps of her father’s house. “Dobie says he went for a drive.”
“What do you want to do?” Troy asked, staring through the windshield, watching a squirrel scamper across the brick-paved driveway. “You wanna wait for him?”
His peripheral vision caught her headshake; he heard her seat belt click. “She says she thinks he might be up at the spring. She says he likes to go there sometimes.”
“Okay, then,” he said, reaching for the gearshift, “you wanna go for a drive?”
“Might as well,” Charly said grimly. “Before I lose my nerve.”
He glanced at her as he aimed the Cherokee between the gateposts and into the quiet street, but didn’t say anything. All the way through town and out on the highway and up the winding grade to the mountains, he drove in silence, listening to the pounding of his heart. Even Bubba was quieter than usual, maybe picking up the tension vibes the way dogs do, lying on the middle seat behind them, alert but still.
How must it be for her? he wondered. What was she thinking of now-the tiny baby she’d held for such a brief time in her arms, or all the years she’d missed, the first smile, the first steps, the lost teeth and skinned knees she hadn’t been there to comfort him through? Or was she only thinking of the tall, good-looking young man with the anger and hurt in his eyes? Troy couldn’t even imagine it. He’d never been a mother-hell, he’d never even been a father-so how could he begin to know what it must be like to have a child taken away from you?
He knew it had been a long time since he’d felt like this-adrenaline pumping, heart pounding, tension vibrating through his muscles and nerves like charges of electricity. He found himself preparing himself, focusing all his energy and concentration on what lay ahead, the way he once had before an important mission. And in a way, he thought, this might be the most important mission of his life; surely it was one of the most dangerous, this business of committing another human being’s heart, soul and happiness into his own keeping.
“I’m scared,” Charly whispered as they turned into the clearing at Mourning Spring Park. There was one other car there, a blue Mustang a dozen or so years old. Troy pulled in beside it and turned off the motor, then reached over and put his hand over hers.
“I know,” he said in a gravelly voice. So am I. “But it’s gonna be okay. You understand me? No matter what happens.”
But he didn’t think she heard him, or would have believed him if she had.
Cutter was sitting on a picnic table, the same one he and Charly had been sitting on that morning, when she’d told him about Colin, and how all this had come about. He had his back to them, although Troy knew very well he’d already marked their arrival.
Charly reached for the door handle and yanked it open. Bubba was already on his feet, whining and chompin’ at the bit to get to that water, so Troy got out and opened up his door and let him go. The pup went galloping by Charly, who was making her way across the sun-dappled gravel with the diary hugged to her chest. Troy got Bubba’s leash out of the back of the Cherokee and then followed, hanging back far enough to give her room, but close enough so she’d know he was there if she needed him.
The dog went galumphing by Cutter and splashed his way into the stream, making it pretty hard for the kid to go on pretending he didn’t know they were there. He turned to look over his shoulder, impatiently frowning, and muttered, “What do you want?”
From where he stood, Troy could see Charly’s shoulders lift, and he knew she must be trying to pull in a breath, one that probably felt like shards of broken glass. When she spoke, though, her voice was steady and strong, and he felt an unheralded glow of pride.
“I’m glad I found you-Dobie told me you might be here. Look, I just wanted to tell you I’m going to be leaving soon. They’re bringing me a car either tonight or in the morning.”
Cutter grunted something Troy couldn’t make out and turned his back to her again. She took a step closer.
“Cutter, listen.” Her voice was so low, so vibrant with emotion that it seemed to Troy he could feel it in his bones rather than hear it. “I understand my coming here was a shock to you.” She gave a soft huff of laughter. “Finding you here was a shock to me. Look, I don’t want to upset you-that’s the last thing I ever wanted. I understand you don’t care to have me be a part of your life right now. But maybe someday-” she took a deep, unsteady breath “-maybe someday you’ll have…questions.” She held out the diary, a quick, jerking motion. “Dobrina wanted me to give you this. It’s, um, it’s my diary. I kept it the year…the year everything happened. The year before you were born. I thought-she thought maybe you should read it.”
Cutter twisted toward her, tense and shaking. “What do I have to say to you to make you understand? I’m not
