“What did Gia have to say?” he asked, placing the sandwich makings on the table.

Bailey Rae joined him with napkins and two cans of Coke. “She’s got a job and a place to live. She even took out a no-contact order against her husband.”

“That sounds like good news.” He tapped the worry crinkle between her eyebrows. “What made this day difficult?”

She hesitated for so long, he wondered if she would even answer.

Shaking her head, she took a seat. “I just know how often those good intentions fall apart.”

“Because of your mother.” They’d come a long way in getting to know each other since the ticket incident. Working together to help Gia had shifted something between them.

It had shifted something inside him too. Something that had been closed off since he left the military. He took his seat, his knees brushing hers under the table.

“Yes, and after watching my mom,” she said, slathering pimento cheese on bread, enough for three sandwiches, “I understand there’s nothing more I can do.”

“Winnie would be proud of the way you’ve taken what happened to you and helped make sure it didn’t happen to another child.” He rested a hand on hers, pausing her busyness.

Her gaze snapped to his and held for three slugs of his heart against his ribs before she leaned forward to press her mouth to his. The feel of her soft skin under his touch, the flowery scent of her shampoo swept away a dark workday.

She eased back, her hands on his shoulders. “Thank you for saying that. It means more to me right now than I even know how to explain.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Now let’s have some supper and I’ll tell you all the ingredients in hummingbird cake.”

As the warmth of her voice filled the space between them, Martin couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. He’d considered traveling to Myrtle Beach to see her once she left town, making an effort to maintain their growing connection. But the kiss told him how much he was fooling himself. His heavy heartbeat and undeniable hunger for her had him realizing he didn’t want only an occasional meeting.

He wanted her to stay in Bent Oak. The very thing she’d made clear wasn’t anywhere on her agenda.

Chapter Seventeen

1981

Russell was still alive. I told myself to think positively, but for so long my escape had felt too good to be true. What if his life was the price fate exacted for my freedom?

I dug my fingers into the pleather of the emergency room’s industrial sofa and bit back the urge to scream. Not only because the nightmare at the barn still held me in its grip an hour later, but also because I was in a hospital again, staring at the sterile walls, having no control of my life.

Libby and Russell were both in ER exam rooms. Russell hadn’t regained consciousness, but he hadn’t died during the attack from Libby’s husband. That was something—everything.

Keith and I managed to drag Russell into the station wagon just as the barn burst into flames. More than anything, I wanted to cradle his dear head in my lap, but someone had to drive. Libby was too heavily concussed, and I wasn’t trusting either of the teens behind the wheel, even though Destiny had offered.

I’d forced myself to stop trembling and drive while Libby sat in the passenger side cupping her battered face. We’d agreed to tell the doctor she’d been injured by a falling beam. Destiny and Keith piled into the very back. Fred had almost certainly died, and reaching him in the burning rubble would have been impossible. Calling for help had beenout of the question since the phone had been disconnected in the cabin when Annette died, and Russell’s barn apartment was being consumed by the flames.

By the time we’d raced down the driveway, the barn had collapsed, showering the vehicle with sparks and rumbling the ground beneath the tires. We didn’t start off with an official pact not to tell anyone about Fred Gordon being in the barn. It just unfolded that way. First, there was nothing we could do for him, while Russell and Libby needed urgent medical attention. If—when—the police or fire department questioned the body in the barn, we agreed to mention that drifters sometimes sought shelter in the haystacks.

Another secret that bound us even tighter together.

The hospital had assumed all the injuries came from escaping the barn. Again, we decided to stay silent.

Now Libby was getting X-rays and possibly a CT scan. A nurse had given us a brief rundown on the care Russell would receive. But the way they’d wheeled him back quickly told me it was serious. Then came the news that his right arm and shoulder had been shattered and a lung punctured. Plus whatever was causing his loss of consciousness.

He had to live. No matter what I needed to do, I couldn’t face the thought of a world that didn’t include Russell.

The antiseptic air stung my nose, and the corner television did little to drown out the PA system and rattle of medical carts. Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic this late at night, just a couple sleeping tucked against each other and another person listening to music on a portable cassette player with headphones.

I’d called Thea from the nurses’ station to have her look after Destiny, leaving me here with Keith. He huddled in a chair across from me, his hair slickened and dark from the downpour. Our drenched clothes had been so covered in soot and mud, one of the nurses had given us green scrubs to wear. Part of me hadn’t wanted to change, like keeping my own outfit was a way to deny this whole nightmare had happened.

Focusing on comforting Keith would be easier than sitting in my own worries. I moved the stack of old magazines from the seat next to him and settled into the chair, keeping my voice low. “I heard what you said back at the barn, but I want you to know none of this is your fault.” Didn’t kids often blame themselves for adult problems? I wouldn’t allow him to carry any guilt for what Fred had done. “This lays firmly on your father’s doorstep.”

“And now he’s dead,” Keith whispered. “Because I called him.”

Shock stunned me silent for a moment. “You did what?”