Page 48 of Operation Rescue
But I’m fine now. The worst is over.
Over until the next time. I’m sorry you married a coward, Blaine. You, of all people.
She had expected to be relieved. She should have been relieved. But the peace she’d expected had never arrived. Instead there was just that gaping hole in her life, which hurt almost as much as seeing him so damaged had.
And, of course, the fact that her son hated her now.
Hated her enough that he couldn’t stand to be under the same roof with her. That even hanging out who knows where with kids headed for big trouble—if they weren’t already there—was better than having to be around her.
And the worst part was she understood. Because there were days on end when she felt the same way. When she wished she could…not be who she was. She wondered if she had any courage at all of her own, or if she’d borrowed it all from Blaine. If his courage fighting for his life had somehow seeped into her, giving her enough—just enough—to get through.
And left her, when it was over, drained, empty and feeling utterly hollow inside.
Blaine was staring at her. She was grateful there was no one else out and about, at least not close enough to hear as they stood on the corner. And still glad she’d chosen here to do this, so she wouldn’t have the echoes of this painful admission inside her home. Not that she hadn’t admitted that she didn’t have the guts to live with a hero there. Sometimes out loud.
Blaine finally spoke. “After what you went through when I was injured, how can you say you don’t have guts?”
“I couldn’t walk out on you when you were so hurt.”
His eyes widened. “Erin, what on earth do you think courage is?”
“I know what it’s not, and that’s leaving because I couldn’t take it if it happened again.”
She expected him to go back to what he’d often said before, that that was a big if, but instead he just looked at her for a long, silent moment. Then, quietly, he said, “But you had the guts to call me now, even though you hate me for what I put you through.”
She sucked in an audible breath, shocked at the interpretation he’d put on her lack of contact. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
His mouth twisted with obvious disbelief. “So, that’s not the reason you can’t even tolerate speaking to me unless it’s an emergency? Why you never call, or talk to me when I call Ethan?”
“No, I—”
“Or maybe you’re just so done with me it’s not worth your time?”
She gave a slow shake of her head as her mouth tightened and she swallowed hard, painfully. She looked around, almost desperate for something else to focus on, but found nothing.
Because nothing was enough to distract her from this.
“No, Blaine,” she whispered. “That I don’t talk to you isn’t because I’m done with you.” It took every bit of nerve she had to look up at him again. “It’s because I’m not.”
He was still staring at her, looking utterly shocked, when Cutter gave a soft bark that sounded almost apologetic. They both looked at the visiting dog, and as if he’d been waiting to be sure he had their attention, he started walking into the park. By necessity—and for Erin with relief, they followed.
At first she assumed the dog had some business to take care of, and tried to remember where the park’s cleanup supplies were. But it shortly became obvious the dog had a destination in mind. He stopped at the base of the ladder that led up to the small, cabin-like structure that was the top of the various play equipment structures. A slide went down the other side, and the set of swings out from a third side, and the big sand pile on the fourth.
Blaine nodded at the dog. “That’s what I wondered, boy.”
She didn’t realize until he started up the ladder what Blaine had meant, that this was the place in the park he’d wanted to check out. But Cutter had led them here, and smart as he seemed, he couldn’t have understood that. But could he have scented something? She’d seen some videos of search and rescue dogs doing some incredible things sometimes days after an incident.
Blaine disappeared into the structure, and she heard him moving around. A couple of minutes later, he reappeared in the doorway. She nearly gasped when he dropped straight down to the ground, skipping the ladder. And all she could think of was how hard he had worked to get his left leg functional again.
But he obviously thought nothing of it. Or what he’d found up there outranked it. Which he proved with his next words.
“Somebody’s been there, probably for a couple of nights at least.”
Her breath caught. Could Ethan have really been so close? All the time she’d spent walking the neighborhood, could he have been there, watching her? She’d walked around the park, but never really looked near the playground area, since Ethan was a teenager now and looked on such things with disdain. But she’d never thought of the little structure as a possible place to hide.
Because you didn’t want to admit your son wanted to hide from you.
She saw then that Blaine was holding something, what looked like a crumpled paper bag from a local takeout. He held it out to Cutter, who nosed it and let out a low whuff as he reached up to paw at it. Her mind was racing, wishing she knew more about dogs, especially very well trained ones like this.
