Gone From Me: Hearts of the South, Book 10 (9 page)

He lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not hiding from you.”

Screaming was a distinct possibility. She could feel it building in her throat, a raw, primal yell of frustration and hurt and longing. She wanted them back so fiercely, when she’d barely realized they’d slipped away. She wanted to fix them, but she couldn’t do that if she didn’t know what the hell was wrong. She fisted her hands in his shirt.

“I’m
not
hiding from you.” He dropped his hand, and his lashes lifted to reveal eyes dull with hurt and confusion. “I’m not ready yet.”

She didn’t release his shirt. “Ready for what?”

“To take it out and look at it.” He shook his head. “To talk about it with you.”

Which meant asking what
it
was would be fruitless. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I…” He closed his eyes on a pained grimace. “I’m trying, Amy. I swear to God, I am.”

She knew that. For the first time, the very real fear that they wouldn’t make it spread through her. She was fighting something huge, maybe something bigger than them, and she didn’t know what it was or where to start.

“I know you are.” With shaky hands, she smoothed out his shirt and touched his jaw. “I don’t know how to help you. To help us.”

“Don’t give up on me. Not yet.” He moved, and she found herself engulfed in a tight embrace. Tremors vibrated in him. “Please.”

“No.” She pressed her lips to his temple. “Never.”

She held him, his arms pressed around her, until the trembling faded away. His face against her throat, she rested her cheek on his hair and trailed a soothing caress down his nape. “Come to bed tonight. I want you to hold me.”

He nodded, nose brushing her skin. “I want that too.”

“Go take a shower.” She leaned back and stroked his ruffled hair back from his brow. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah.” He tipped her off his lap and rose. Hand at her mouth, she watched him disappear down the hall. Feeling as shaky as he looked, she retrieved her cell from her bag and typed out a quick text.

Meet me for breakfast tomorrow. Really need to talk to you.

Chapter Six

A bell pealed in the distance. Amy frowned and pulled the duvet higher to cover her ear. Rob’s arm lay over her waist, a warm weight, his thigh tucked between her knees. Her head rested in the curve of his throat, his bare chest along her back.

The bell sounded again, and Rob shifted on a groan. “What time is it?”

She opened one eye to peer at the clock. “A quarter to five.”

Rob bit off a curse. “Why is he early?”

“Who?” She rolled to her back as he levered up on the pillows and snatched his phone from the nightstand.

“Troy Lee.” He tapped out a text and dropped the phone on the mattress. Elbows on his bent knees, he scrubbed both hands down his face. His hair stuck out in spiky disarray.

“The question is why you’re going running with him this early.” She propped up on an elbow and trailed a finger across his toes. The man had the cutest feet she’d ever seen. “What happened to the gym every afternoon?”

“This is different than the gym.” He pushed up from the bed and crossed to snag athletic shorts and a T-shirt from his dresser. He skimmed off the pajama pants, giving her a glimpse of the other part of him she’d always considered the cutest ever before he tugged the shorts into place and shrugged into the T-shirt. “It makes me feel better.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and she fell back, eyes closed. It made him feel better. Something about that simple statement scared her too, as much as his separation and weary desperation last night had. Short minutes later, he returned, the mattress beside her dipping as he sat down to pull on his shoes. She watched him, looking for clues to heaven-knew-what in his face and finding none.

She lifted a hand to trace his triceps. He shifted sideways to plant a fist on either side of her hips and leaned down to touch his lips to hers. “I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.”

“You too.” She hooked a hand around his nape and kept him close for one more kiss. She fought down the fear and desperation and forced a smile. “I love you.”

“You too.” A brief smile, an even briefer kiss, and he was gone. Fisting the duvet and holding it to her chest, she listened to his footfalls in the hall and the door closing behind him. She lay for several minutes, afraid to get up and start facing what might be before them. She wanted to stay forever in that kiss last night, to linger in waking to find herself in his arms. Finally, she shoved the covers aside and headed for the shower. Look where not facing their problems had already gotten her.

An hour later, she was dressed and ready for the day when the knock sounded at the side door. She hurried to answer it and wrapped her sister in a tight hug. “Thanks for coming.”

Dressed casually in jeans and a Loop-the-Lake T-shirt, Savannah faked a grimace and held the McDonald’s bag in her left hand aloft. “You want to tell me why I drove an hour this early on my day off to have breakfast?”

“I really need to talk to you. Come on. I made coffee.”

“It couldn’t wait for a Saturday-afternoon pedicure?” Savannah followed her, already pulling a breakfast sandwich and hash browns from the sack.

“No.” Amy poured coffee in the two waiting mugs. Savannah tossed her purse on the bar and slipped onto a stool. Amy set a mug before her and took the other stool. “I’m worried about Rob.”

“I would be too.” Savannah spoke around a bite of sausage biscuit. “He’s depressed as hell.”

“What? No.” Amy set her mug down with a thud. Her sister shoved a biscuit toward her, and Amy slid it back. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you kidding me?” Savannah dropped her sandwich. “You don’t see it?”

“He’s not depressed. Stressed out? Sure. But…” She trailed off under her sister’s knowing, sarcastic gaze. “You really think he’s depressed?”

“Amy, if he showed up in the ER looking the way he does some days, we’d probably put him on a seventy-two-hour hold.” Savannah held up her fingers and began ticking off points. “He’s lost at least ten pounds since his dad died, he doesn’t look like he’s slept in a month, and I have never seen him as apathetic as he was a couple of weekends ago at Mom and Dad’s.”

“He…” Amy pushed her mug away and rested her face in her hands. “Oh, Lord. I’m the worst wife in the world.”

“No, you’re just you.” Savannah’s mild tone held rueful affection. “A little spoiled and self-centered, so you miss stuff with the people around you.”

Amy lifted her head to glare at her sibling. “Thanks.”

“Well, it’s true.” Savannah took another bite of biscuit. “Let me guess. You’ve been busy with work and the move and stressing over his job situation and the whole baby thing, and somehow you never noticed that the great, good-looking-as-hell guy you’re married to had stopped treating you like a princess because it’s a freaking miracle he can get out of bed every day?”

Amy opened her mouth and snapped it shut. She wanted to vomit.

Savannah licked a crumb off her finger. “Thought so.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she covered her mouth with one hand to hold back a sob.

“Don’t you dare start crying.” Her sister smacked a stern hand on the countertop. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t, although God knows he deserves it if anyone does. Your job right now is to figure out how to get him to get help.”

Obediently, Amy gulped back the tears and the knot in her throat. “He said he wasn’t ready to take it out and look at it, to talk about it with me. I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

Savannah nodded and looked about. “Where is he, anyway? Still asleep? I know he’s not a morning person.”

“Running with his new partner at the sheriff’s department.” Amy rested an elbow on the counter and pushed rough fingers against her forehead. Was she really that blind and selfish, that she’d missed it all and left him to suffer alone? And he thought he wasn’t the man she deserved. “He started this week. They go out insanely early and do five miles along the river.”

“That’s awesome. Nature and exercise? He probably needs both.”

“He said it made him feel better,” Amy whispered.

“Amy, I swear to God, if you don’t get it together and stop looking like you’re going to bawl any minute, I’m going to slap you.”

“I thought it was just stress.”

“At the beginning, when it was only the infertility, it probably was.” Savannah lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug. “Then he’s out of a job and Dad’s an ass about it, then he loses his dad and a guy can only take so many blows before he’s on his knees.”

“Daddy wasn’t an ass about it.”

Savannah snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I really don’t think—”

“Amy. Focus.” Savannah snapped her fingers in front of Amy’s face. “When was the last time he had a physical or talked to his doctor?”

“He had to have one as part of the hiring process here, but that wasn’t with his regular physician.”

“And he’s smart enough and been in law enforcement long enough to know what not to admit to on a questionnaire.” Savannah took the last bite of flaky sandwich. “Make him an appointment with his doctor and make him keep it. Or find one here, make an appointment and make him keep it.”

“Have you ever tried to make Rob do anything?”

“Tell him no sex until he keeps the appointment.”

Amy’s face burned, and Savannah stared, mouth open. This time, she was the one who snapped her mouth shut.

“Oh my God, you’re not sleeping together, are you?”

Arms crossed over her chest, Amy scowled. She did not want to explain this to her sister, who was already giving her the how-stupid-can-you-be look. “The whole trying-to-have-a-baby thing can take the fun out of things. Then there was his job and his dad. I work hard, and we moved and then—”

“When was the last time, Amy?”

She tried to remember. The time after the testing didn’t count because they’d been so miserable that nothing had actually
happened
. She’d cried, and Rob had retreated, tense and silent. “Probably the month before the fertility testing.”

Savannah gaped. “That was
months
ago.”

“I
know
, okay? I know.”

“You’re lucky he’s not divorcing you. Except he’s crazy in love with you.” Savannah leaned back, arms linked around one denim-clad updrawn knee. “Well, I guess sex as leverage is out. Maybe try making the appointment and asking him to keep it because you’re concerned about him.”

“I can do that.”

“Great. It would probably do him good to think someone’s concerned about him.”

“Savannah, would you stop with the guilt already? I know I messed up. I am concerned about him, and I am trying to make things better. You don’t know how hard I’m trying.”

“Good. Because focusing on him means you’re focusing on someone other than yourself. Maybe this is the thing that will finally make you grow the rest of the fuck up. Don’t look at me like that.” Savannah leaned in, long dark ponytail falling forward over one shoulder. “You were all ready to be some kid’s mother when you don’t really have an idea of what it means to be a full adult yet. It’s time to finally stop being Mom and Dad’s little girl and step up to actually being his wife and helping him get better instead of playing house.”

And she had nothing to say to that. She couldn’t even drum up enough anger to drown out the shame because,
damn it
, her sister was right. She’d known Savannah wouldn’t mince words, the same way she knew Savannah would do everything in her power to help.

She wrapped her hands around her now-cool coffee mug. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more.” Savannah laid her hand over Amy’s. “He’ll be okay, I think. He has some purpose, probably, with the new job and—”

The side door thudded open, and two sets of running shoes squeaked through the laundry room.

“Forgot my wallet. Got to have it.” His voice hoarse and breathless, Rob jogged through the kitchen. Sweat soaked his T-shirt, and his hair stood out in damp disarray. “Hey, Savannah, what are you doing here?”

“Having breakfast with my bratty little sister,” Savannah called after him. She glanced back at Troy Lee, equally sweaty but not out of breath at all, who’d paused at the kitchen door, and laughed. “Hot damn, the two of you in one room should be illegal. Tell me you’re single.”

He smiled, a flash of white teeth against tan skin. “Sorry.”

“Tell me you have a brother.”

“Nope.” He shook his head, his watchful gaze tracking between Savannah and Amy. Something about that look made her intensely uncomfortable. An itch crawled up her spine and spread over her whole body, ending in what she hoped was an invisible shudder.

“We’ve got to go or we’ll be late.” Rob hurried back into the room and paused long enough to drop a quick kiss on both women’s cheeks. “See you later.”

After they were gone, Savannah lifted an eyebrow at Amy. “Is that the partner?”

Amy nodded.

“Does he always give you that look?”

So Savannah had noticed it as well. Amy worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “No. I’ve only met him a couple of times.”

With a speculative glance at the door where the two men had disappeared, Savannah reached for Amy’s biscuit and broke off half. “He knows something you don’t, and he doesn’t like what he knows. I bet Rob’s talking to him. Makes sense. They ride around all day; what else are they going to do but talk? That’s probably good for him too.”

He couldn’t talk to her, but he could talk to a guy he barely knew. The realization hurt, but at the same time, it lessened a little of her desperation. She needed him well, and she didn’t care if that meant he confided in someone other than her. She sucked in a shuddery breath, her throat tight and aching.

“You’re going to cry, aren’t you?”

Eyes burning, she nodded hard and wrapped her arms around her waist. That did little to subdue the huge, wobbly sobs. Savannah huffed a sigh and dropped the half a biscuit to fold an arm around Amy’s shoulders. She pressed their cheeks together. “Go ahead. You probably need this.”

Amy cried harder and wound shaking arms around her sister.

“It’s okay to be a princess sometimes.” Savannah patted the back of her head and pressed a kiss to Amy’s temple, a familiar gesture going all the way back to their childhood. “But the very best princesses learn how to be queens.”

For long minutes, Savannah held her while she wept, until there seemed to be no tears left. Amy released a tremulous sigh, and Savannah hugged her tightly. “It’s going to be okay, Ames. I’m going to help you take care of him.”

* * * * *

Rob pounded a fist on Mike Smithwick’s trailer door. No response. Not that he was surprised—no vehicle sat outside the small singlewide—but it didn’t hurt to try. He tugged a card from his wallet, scribbled a note on it for Smithwick to call him, and stuck it in the doorjamb. The metal steps clanged under his feet on his way back to the yard where Troy Lee waited, leaning against the Charger’s hood, arms folded across his chest.

They’d already checked Smithwick’s place of employment—a local-parts house where the kid worked part-time on the counter—and found he was off until the weekend.

Face shaded by the brim of his campaign hat, Troy Lee frowned at his approach. “So explain to me why you want to talk to him so bad if Britt’s safe?”

“One, I need an official statement for the case file.” He walked around to the passenger door. “Two, there’s more to this story than anyone is saying, and I can’t stand not having a full story.”

Behind the wheel, Troy Lee fired the engine. “You have to have unsolved case files in your past.”

“Yeah, and they drive me nuts. It’s like having something stuck between your teeth.”

“You still think Britt’s lying.” Deep pine forests lining the road flashed by them. Troy Lee bounced his thumb off the steering wheel, brows twisted together in a thoughtful expression.

“I think nothing about her story adds up.” He shrugged. “But the local news will move on, she and Zeke will go back to their normal lives, and maybe it won’t matter.”

“Maybe?”

“She went after Smithwick with a bat. That’s some strong emotion.” The trees thinned out the nearer they got to town. The rain had moved out overnight, and the damp woods steamed under the midmorning heat. “I’d simply like to know what the deal is with them.”