Page 57 of Deadly Vendetta

Zach moved to help her, but she brushed him aside. “I’ve got it.”

“You don’t need help at all, do you,” he observed.

“Nope.” At the truck, she sorted through the supplies and put everything away. “Everywhere I look, there are responsibilities that would have kept me running even if Ken were still alive. Ultimately it’s all up to me now, and no one else.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? You and I ended up alike. Take charge, get the job done.” He gave a short laugh. “I figure when I’m in control, the world will keep turning, and I’ll be happy. Then I meet someone like Bob and wonder if I’ve ever known what real happiness is.”

* * * *

BY MIDNIGHT THE HORSE’S leg had been X-rayed from three other angles and the diagnosis confirmed. Dana had applied a heavy cast, and now the patient was settled into a deeply bedded stall in Dana’s barn. His owner had headed for home.

“Come take a look,” Dana whispered to Zach.

He followed her through her kitchen, into the living room and up the open staircase. She held a finger to her lips as she slowly eased open one bedroom door after another to check on the kids.

In the room next to Molly’s, Katie lay sound asleep on the double bed, her arm curved over Gabe’s rangy body. The dog was snoring.

“Well, everyone is sound asleep. Isn’t Gabe sweet? He’s like a big pacifier—he seems to sense when someone needs a friend.”

A sense of guilt washed through Zach. “I shouldn’t have left her here, today of all days.”

“But she did fine. Look at her, peaceful as a little angel. Why don’t you leave her here overnight? If she wakes up on the way home...”

“I don’t even want to think about it. She’d never go back to sleep, and we’d be up the rest of the night.”

“Do you want to stay, too, in case she wakes up? It might be really upsetting for her if you aren’t here.”

The first thought that came to mind was one he quickly censored. We’re just friends. Only that. Dangerous ground.

He scanned the darkened room. “I could doze in that chair in the corner until morning.”

“You’re kidding. How about that big sofa in the living room? It’s just about long enough for you, I think. I’ll grab a few blankets and a pillow, and you’ll be a lot more comfortable.”

“I don’t mind the chair.”

“But I do. What kind of hospitality would that be?”

The safe kind. Up here with Katie, I’d be reminded every moment about what matters most, instead of thinking about things we shouldn’t even consider.

“I’ll take your silence as assent.” Dana spun on her heel and headed for the linen closet, where she retrieved a stack of sheets, blankets, and an extra pillow that she piled into his arms. “Come on downstairs, and we’ll get you settled in no time.”

With swift, matter-of-fact motions, she switched on a single lamp in the corner, shook out a set of folded sheets and had the makeshift bed set up in a few seconds. “There. Did you want anything to eat? Drink? Wait—before I go, we’ve got some new toothbrushes in the bathroom cupboard, and you’re welcome to one of those—”

“Stop.” He reached out to take her hand and felt as if he’d just corralled a tornado. “This is crazy. Having me here is making you nervous, and I don’t live that far away. I’ll set my alarm early and come back before Katie is likely to wake up. You can call me if she wakes up during the night, okay?”

It was a good plan. Touching her wasn’t.

Because even as he said the words, he felt awareness speed into his veins like a caffeine rush, until the last thing he could possibly think of was sleep.

“You want to leave?” She eyed him uncertainly, and he knew that she felt a glimmer of the same awareness that they’d both felt so many years ago. Only now it was stronger, fueled by the separation of a lifetime and the emptiness of other relationships that had never come close enough. At least, for him.

“What I want is to stay here near Katie,” he said finally, “but what I should do is go home and come back in the morning.”

“Tell me,” she said with a hint of wistfulness, “why you left town after the prom without saying a word. I’d thought...”

She deserved the truth, yet he couldn’t give it to her. Not all of it. Not when he knew how much it would cost her.

“I waited for you at the park outside of town Sunday noon, after prom,” she continued. “I waited and waited, but you never came.” Her voice wavered. “I loved you, Zach. I would have followed you to the ends of the earth. It hurt to learn I didn’t mean anything to you.”

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