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She really needed him to answer. She really needed to tell him what was happening. But once more she went to his voice mail, and this time she didn’t hang up but listened to his entire greeting, which was very lengthy as he gave his office hours and address, but then the beep sounded and she had to speak.
“Hi, Lawrence, it’s me. It’s about six thirty or seven I think, and I’m outside White Sulphur Springs, calling from the restaurant phone. TJ and I are fine. I’m so sorry about this afternoon. . .” Her voice trailed off and for a moment she didn’t know what to say.
It was ending, wasn’t it?
She couldn’t imagine how she and Lawrence would ever recover from this. And suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted them to recover.
Trey and Lawrence would never see eye to eye and she couldn’t bear for TJ to grow up, caught in the middle. And he would be caught in the middle.
She’d be trapped, too.
McKenna tugged on the phone cord and drew a quick breath. “I won’t be back for a few days, probably not until Christmas. TJ and Trey have really missed each other and need to spend some time together. I want them to have this time. You’ve always said TJ was too much like Trey, and now that I see them together, you’re right. They are alike and they need each other…they need a chance to be a family together…”
Her voice trailed off as she struggled to think of a way to end the call. “I hate doing this over the phone. Hate doing this in a message, but I don’t want you wondering and worrying about us so I just want you to know that we’re okay, and safe. I hope you’re okay, too.”
“And I’m sorry,” she added softly. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, but we’re not the right family for you. We’re not the ones who will make you happy. There’s someone else for you, I’m sure of it. I hope one day you’ll understand and hopefully forgive me.”
She gently set the receiver down, ending the call.
For a long moment she just stared at the phone.
She’d just ended it with Lawrence. It was over. They were done.
Chapter Nine
‡
From their table at the diner, Trey could see McKenna on the phone, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. She dialed three different times, and each call was short. From the brevity of the calls he suspected she was leaving messages. It’d be interesting to know who she’d called and what those messages were.
TJ’s voice caught his attention. “What’s that, son?”
“Why didn’t you apologize?” TJ repeated. “If you didn’t mean to kill that man. Why didn’t you say it was an accident and you were sorry?”
Trey glanced from McKenna, who was heading back to their table, to TJ. “It doesn’t work that way,” he answered. “An apology doesn’t change some things.”
“But you didn’t want to kill him.”
“No.”
“Did you want to hurt him?”
“No.”
“What did you want to do then?”
He hesitated. “I wanted him to stop hurting someone else.”
TJ put his fork down. “Who was he hurting?”
“We shouldn’t talk about this.”
“Why?”
“It’s just going to upset your mom—”
“What will upset me?” McKenna asked, sitting down at the table and placing her crumpled veil on the seat between her and TJ.
Several long dark red tendrils had come loose from the elaborate twist at the back to frame her face. Trey wished she’d take the pins out of her hair and let it spill free. She had the most gorgeous hair. He couldn’t understand why she’d ever put it up.
“Talking about the man he killed,” TJ said bluntly. “He said it makes you sad if we talk about it around you.”
“He’s right.” She looked baffled. “Why are we discussing this again?”
“TJ wanted to know why I didn’t apologize, since it was an accident,” Trey tried to sound just as matter of fact but he hated the subject. It was obviously a sensitive subject. Trey had spent a lot of time at Deer Lodge asking himself what he would do differently, if he had to do it over again. Ignore Bradley beating up his girlfriend? Walk out of the Wolf Den as if nothing bad was taking place?
Trey couldn’t.
He’d never be able to stand by as a man used a woman as a punching bag. He’d never be able to allow a person to hurt an animal. He’d never let anyone abuse or threaten a kid.
It wasn’t his nature. It wasn’t acceptable to his own code of conduct.
Sure, when he was younger, he fought to fight. He’d liked fighting. He hadn’t been afraid of taking a hit, either, because he realized physical pain was temporary. The real pain was the abuse that went on behind closed doors, the suffering of women in bad marriages, the agony of children raised by unstable parents.
Trey’s dad had never hit his mom, but he didn’t love her, and she’d suffered. She’d been a beautiful young woman when she married Bill Sheenan—and she’d given him five sons, one after the other, but his affections were elsewhere, with Bev Carrigan, and his mother had known.
She’d taken her life the summer after he and Troy had graduated from high school. Troy had been the one to find her. Their family had never been the same.
How could it be without their mother?
“None of it should have happened,” Trey said flatly. “It’s a day I will regret for the rest of my life.”
“But why did you hit him?” TJ persisted.
Trey opened his mouth but no sound came out. How could he explain to a five year old that he’d seen a man using his girlfriend as a punching bag, so he’d intervened. The man, seriously inebriated, threw a punch at Trey, and Trey answered. A fight ensued and then Bradley lost his balance and went down.
If anyone else had stepped in that day, the outcome would have been different. Even the judge said as much. There might not have been an arrest, and there certainly wouldn’t have been a five year prison sentence, but it was Trey Sheenan who’d interfered, and Trey had a long history of fighting in Crawford County, and Judge McCorkle wanted to make a point that he wouldn’t tolerate thugs and petty criminals while he was on the bench.
McKenna sat forward. “Your dad went to jail because he tried to save a woman who was getting beat up by her boyfriend. Your dad didn’t think it was right so he stepped in and there was a fight. Your dad is really strong, and a really good fighter, and he threw a hard punch which made the other guy fall, and when he fell he hit his head, and later died.” She exhaled, face pale. “He didn’t mean for the other man to die. It was an accident, and he did apologize to the family, but it didn’t matter. Someone had died.”
TJ frowned. “But a man should not hit a woman.”
“That’s right,” she agreed.
“So my dad’s a good guy? A hero?”
She made a soft, inarticulate sound as she glanced at Trey. “I guess it depends on who you talk to.”
Trey held her gaze a long moment before fishing out his wallet and peeling two twenties from the other bills and leaving them on the table. “Should we go?”
They left the diner and crossed the parking lot quickly to climb into Trey’s truck to escape the cold. He started the truck and turned on the heater but it’d be a while before it put out hot air, and McKenna wrapped her arms around TJ to keep them warm.
He glanced at the shivering pair. It was damn cold. None of them had proper clothing for a Montana winter night. “What now?”
“What do you mean, what now?” McKenna answered, her gaze lifting to his, her winged eyebrows arching higher. “I thought you were the man with a plan. I thought you were determined to spend this Christmas with your son.”
Her expression was mocking. She was throwing it down, daring him, challenging him, just as she had all those years ago when she was an innocent freshman and he the big bad high school senior.
Heat swept through him, blood surging through his veins, making him hot, and hard, filling him with longing for the life h
e’d had. The life he’d lost.
He missed her. He missed her body and her mind, her curves, her lips, her fire, her sweetness and that flash in her eyes. She knew him so well.
“That hasn’t changed,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“Then give TJ a special Christmas. Give him a Christmas he’ll never forget.”
*
Trey didn’t tell her where they were going. He just drove and she was fine relinquishing control and being the passenger, settling in while he took them wherever it was he wanted to take them.
As they headed west on Highway 12, she’d wondered if they were stopping in Helena, but he kept going, passing through Helena, and then north on 83. They’d been driving for three hours and TJ had crashed out a couple hours ago, leaning against McKenna.
It was getting late and they were traveling a mountain road but McKenna was relaxed. Trey was an exceptional driver and he might make her nervous in a bar, but he was good behind the wheel, and his truck was a four wheel drive vehicle with snow tires so if they hit snow or ice they’d be fine.
And she felt fine, now.
Mellow. Thoughtful. A little sad, but not heartbroken.
