Fated Hearts (26 page)

“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving bruises on you. That’s a shame I’ll always carry. I can’t take back what I said. But I can make amends. Or at least try, if you’ll let me.” He held his palms out to her. “I won’t touch you. You have my word. I’m an asshole, but my word is gold. I can’t promise this conversation won’t hurt us both. But I won’t touch you.”

He couldn’t know about her ability. Carter wouldn’t have told him or Maggie; he wouldn’t betray her trust. So Aidan couldn’t have known the impact his words would have. His words weren’t chosen to unsettle her. But they did.

And she could touch him. She’d know instantly if she could trust his word. Until recently, she’d never used her ability that way; it had always felt unethical to her. But she’d used it with her mother in an attempt to understand, and she’d become accustomed to sharing Carter’s emotions. She wasn’t a doctor, and Aidan wasn’t a patient. He was a potential threat to the life she’d fight to protect.

“I’ll put this in the laundry room. You can wait in the kitchen. There’s a pot of coffee made.” She waited until he passed her, unwilling to turn her back on him. The chagrin on his face told her he understood she wasn’t being polite. And the still ripe bruise riding his jaw gave her a tiny sense of satisfaction - she wasn’t the only one hurt that night. He crossed to the cabinet that housed the mugs and asked if she’d like a cup. She nodded. She also acknowledged the unspoken challenge he’d issued: He knew Carter’s house as well as his own.

She tossed the pile of laundry on the floor and debated whether to throw in the first load or wait until after Aidan left. She had plans for the remainder of her day. Plans she didn’t intend to let Maggie’s husband derail. Her life was her own. That meant the linens were going in the washer now.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“I’ll be right there,” she called, pouring detergent over the soiled laundry she’d stuffed into the washer. Yeah, considering what remained of the heap in the upstairs hall, this was definitely going to take a second load.

“Maybe you could put on more clothes while you’re in there?” His suggestion made her gasp. She wore only Carter’s tee. And it barely covered her. Embarrassed, she hurried from the room, mumbling her cream and sugar preference as she sailed through the kitchen. She thought she heard him chuckle. She wasn’t sure. She was infuriated by the thought that he laughed at her.

“Great. That’s great, Henley. Flash the guy you think, worst case, is after you, best case, hates your guts. Don’t forget to invite him for coffee and leave him alone to find a weapon. You’re a freaking genius.”

She shoved her feet into a pair of shorts and yanked them up over her hips. She pulled the shirt off and tossed it over the bedpost. She had an image of Carter crawling into bed tonight, seeing it, and thinking of her. That is, if he didn’t stay over at her place. She grinned as she slid into a bra and pulled on a clean shirt. She finger-combed her hair and pulled it into a tail as she hurried back down the stairs.

Aidan’s full mug rested untouched on the kitchen table. She took the seat marked by the second steaming mug. She was grateful he’d chosen to put the table between them. She sipped and inclined her head in thanks; it was perfect.

“Tala hadn’t told me about Ashlock. No one on the reservation did. I was desperately in love with her, and I asked her to be my wife. That was when she confessed to being betrothed. It was an arrangement made between their families—the last two children of the final two remaining clans from the original tribe. She’d never thought to argue it because Jacob had been her best friend all her life. He was away at college, but when he graduated, they’d be wed.

“I was brokenhearted. I left the reservation and wandered the country for about six months. There was a months-old letter from Tala waiting when I got home. She had discovered she was pregnant after I’d left and said she wasn’t going to marry Jacob. That she’d wait for me if I still wanted her. I didn’t call; I bought a seat on the first plane I could. When I arrived at the Parrish home, Tala’s mother told me I had caused her family and the Ashlock family great shame and tragedy. Both their children were dead. She blamed me. I blamed me.

“Until the other day, when I lashed out at you.”

He looked up and met Henley’s gaze. “I didn’t mean the awful things I said. I was afraid of you. I was terrified I would lose my family because of you. But in addition to physically and emotionally harming you, I hurt Maggie and scared Tala. It wasn’t until later, when I’d calmed down, that I realized how I had let them down. And how irrational and unfair I had been to you. I’ve known that you nearly died almost as long as I’ve known about Tala’s murder and Ashlock’s death. But I never looked for you. I never wondered if you were okay. And when I had the chance to ask, I attacked you instead. If I could take my words and actions back, I would. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“You must have loved her a great deal to honor her memory by naming your child after her.” Henley built the nerve to reach out and touch him. “Does it still hurt?”

“That was Maggie’s idea. And no, it doesn’t hurt at all. You?”

“I won’t ever forget, but, no, the grief and the anger dulled over the years. Only the fear remains, and it gleefully serves as a reminder of what was lost. But these past few months in the Cove, with Carter and your family, has lessened the fear to a manageable level.” She stood and moved to Carter’s meager liquor cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream and spiked her coffee. His grin was rueful when he tapped the lip of his mug. “I know that, for you, Jacob was and always will be a monster. But he wasn’t always like that. I loved him. We were supposed to be married after graduation. He planned to put his degree to good use on the reservation. I’d planned to be a teacher in the underserviced schools there. He never mentioned Tala Parrish to me or said anything about being betrothed.

“When I regained consciousness, I had to be told what had happened to me, to Jacob, all of it, by the police. I understood that illness had changed the boy I loved into a stranger. But I couldn’t find it in me to forgive the lies that came before the sickness. It was a hard time for me. Not just with the rehabilitation. I was pregnant.”

“Oh. I’m not sure what to say except I’m sorry.”

“No venom about your child dying while his survived?”

“Did it? Survive the attack and the coma, I mean?”

She nodded and took a sip.

“Did he know?”

“I don’t know; I don’t see how he could have. I was showing by the time I woke up. Five months later, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. And he was adopted by a loving, affluent family.” She drank and sighed. “This is good.”

“The coffee?”

“Ha. Yeah, I’m talking about the coffee; the rest of this sucks.” When Dublin’s snores broke the silence, they both startled. They laughed. “I’m getting another cup. You interested?”

“Yes, but I’m skipping the creamer and going straight for the Baileys.” When she reached for his mug, she brushed his hand with hers. He sandwiched her hands between his but kept his eyes downcast. “I never wondered if you survived the attack or what effect it had on your life. You survived a nightmare and became a doctor; you helped people. I’m terribly sorry I called you twisted. I’m such an asshole.”

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “You’re not that bad.”

“Our lives turned out quite differently than we thought they would when we were twenty,” Aidan commented as he sipped his Baileys-laced coffee. “If we had gotten the lives we’d planned instead of the ones we have, we might have been neighbors on the res.”

“How about that?” She smiled and drank, too. She needed to eat if they were going to continue drinking. “I think back, not often, but I do. And I don’t think my relationship with Jacob would have survived the long haul. It had all the intensity and passion that goes along with being that age, but there wasn’t a substantial foundation.”

“I’ve had the same thought about Tala Parrish when I compare how I felt to how I love Maggie. I hurt her the other night—Maggie. My wife is not much of a crier, and I made her cry. It was like being doused with a shock of freezing cold water. It not only calmed me, it made me think. If not for what Jacob Ashlock did, I wouldn’t have Maggie or my daughter. I can’t say I’m glad those people died. But I love the life I have thanks to their sacrifice.” He finished his coffee. “Maggie calls that fate. It was fate that brought her and I together, gave us our little girl and the life I cherish. She also says it was fate that led you here. Because you were still alone and in pain.”

“The lost girl,” Henley mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh.
The Lost Girl
. It’s a book by D.H. Lawrence published in 1920. It’s not one of his better known works.”

“I called Tala Parrish ‘that lost girl’ when Maggie and I were talking the other day. It jarred me to hear you say it.” He smiled. “Literature major?”

“Once upon a time.”

“Mags mentioned you were a bibliophile. Maybe I should’ve brought a handful of the signed books she has sitting around the house as an olive branch.” Henley smiled. “Was it you who told Tala about wood nymphs? It’s one of the three subjects she can’t get enough of.”

“The other two?”

“The fifth grade and Dixon.”

“I’m in elite company. Well, the nymphs are, anyway. She’s a special little girl, bright and inquisitive.”

“She’s all that and more.” His eyes shone with pride, but the expression turned sorrowful. “What you did for your son was beyond noble. I can’t imagine the love it took or the pain it caused you. Do you know how he is?”

“Ask me yourself.”

Henley and Aidan jumped to their feet. Chair legs screeched against the plank floorboards; Aidan’s toppled. Henley screamed. Her cup crashed to the ground and shattered. A young man stood in the doorway with a gun trained on Henley.

“Hello, Mother.”

• • •

Carter’s cell phone rang again. He was stuck on the phone at Henley’s desk with a complaining citizen, and his cell was across the room in his drawer. It had been going off for several minutes, and Doug hadn’t understood Carter’s signal to answer it.

“Look, Mrs. Henderson. I’m sorry Mr. Bickle’s dog peed on your rosebushes, but there isn’t anything I can do about that. I’ve got to go.” He hung up.

“Man, I can’t believe you did that. I bet she’s furious.” Doug stared at him in slack-jawed awe as Carter crossed to his desk.

“She’ll get over it. The dog pees on Bickle’s side of the fence. Some urine gets through the slats and splashes her precious rosebushes. I swear she must get down on her knees and sniff those damn flowers.” He ripped the drawer open and snatched up his cell. It was Jeff.

“Maybe she set up a security camera.” Carter ignored Doug’s suggestion as he swiped his finger across the phone’s screen.

“What have you got?” Carter demanded.

“Serious fucking trouble.” The connection was awful, and there was an overlap of voices in the background. Or was that buzzing in his ears he heard?

Chills raced up Carter’s spine. He checked his gun. Full magazine. He rummaged in the open drawer for the key to the gun cabinet.

“That boy? The one you wanted me to look into? He’s wanted for murder. Jonah Becker took a baseball bat to his sleeping father. He spent three days living in the house with the corpse. People saw him going in and out; he talked to the neighbors, said his dad had the flu. When no one had seen Jonah for a day or two, the lady next door took over soup. She found the body. There’s been a warrant on Becker since. He’s been on the run almost as long as your lady. I’m sending a picture of Becker to your phone now.”

“Thanks, Jeff. I owe you.”

“Consider us square. Carter? You should know, Dr. Lyons said Becker’s obsession with Elliott is oedipal.”

The call disconnected. Carter beat himself in the forehead with the phone. Ignoring Doug’s blatant curiosity, he dialed Henley’s number. She didn’t answer. He tried his house line. No answer. While redialing Henley’s cell, he walked to the door and stepped out, perusing the cars parked in the lot. There were only three vehicles, and that didn’t include her Grand Prix. Her voicemail picked up: “You’ve reached Henley. Please leave a message.”

He checked the time. Past eleven. They were having lunch at one. She wouldn’t be at the diner yet. He left a quick message asking Henley to call him immediately. And tried his number again.

“Doug, run down to the general and see if Henley’s car is parked out front.”

“What’s going on, Sheriff?”

“We have a solid lead in our arson case, but he’s a fugitive wanted for murder in Cleveland.”

“Wow. This is just like on
Cops
.”

“Did you seriously say that, Deputy?”

“Sorry, that was inappropriate. Henley’s not answering?”

“No, she’s not. And the reason for that could be as simple as she is in the shower or outside with the dog. Or driving. Regardless, she needs to know what we do. And I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Doug nodded. His stride to the door held more swagger than usual. Later, Carter promised himself, over lunch, he’d tell Henley about the young deputy’s poorly timed enthusiasm, and they’d laugh. But right now he wanted to kick the young man in the ass and make him hurry.

“Why does she need to know?” Doug asked.

“He’s a former patient.”

Carter dialed another number, and it was picked up on the first ring.

“He’s there to apologize and talk things through. Don’t start,” Maggie lit into him without saying hello.

“Explain.”

“Aidan went to say he was sorry to Henley. And to talk about the tragedy. He’s at the lake house with her now. If you were there, with the two of you throwing your bravados at one another and possibly punches, things could get worse.”

“I have every right to be angry at him, Maggie. He hurt her and not just her feelings—he left marks on her.” Every time Carter thought of the fingertip bruises on her skin, he wanted to strangle the man he called brother.

“I’m not trying to tell you not to be mad, dammit. The two of you have to work that out between you. But he needs to work this out with Henley sans interference from you. Or me.” She added, after a slight pause, her voice sad, “She doesn’t have anything to fear from him, Carter.”