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It was a sad tale.
Three days later, Janey stood beside Hoyt’s casket before it was lowered into the dark wound in the earth created to hold him. She didn’t bother to wipe her tears away, because she wondered if anyone had ever cried for Hoyt.
She laid a rose on his casket, touched the cold metal lid, and whispered a last good-bye to him. The young man who had supported her from the first day in the restaurant, the one who had given his life to save her from his mother, wouldn’t have the chance to realize the dreams he had written in those journals.
Nor would he have the chance to realize the vision he had shared with her for the restaurant.
Her throat was thick with her tears as Alex held her against him, his arm tight around her, his warmth seeping past the layers of clothes to protect her against the harsh bite of the early February air. There wasn’t even a hint of spring. Hoyt had been buried on one of the coldest days that the month of February had known in decades.
And that somehow didn’t seem fair. There should be a hint of warmth, a hint of newness in the air somehow. Something to give her hope that Hoyt knew he had been loved by those around him.
Swallowing tightly, she let Alex lead her from the cemetery back to the truck. And from there they drove to his house.
The Mackay family had gathered around her for three days. All of them. Her brother and his wife, the cousins and their wives, and Uncle Ray and Maria. But they were alone now as Alex pulled the truck into the driveway of his house.
Alex had been quiet for the past few days. Too quiet. She could almost feel him drawing away from her, and it rocked her to her soul. She was safe now, so how much of him would she still own now that there was no danger of anyone killing her or his potential child?
He unlocked the kitchen door and stepped in, still cautious, before he let her into the dimly lit house. It was overcast outside; the forecast was calling for snow, perhaps sleet along with it. It was brutally cold, but inside, the warmth seemed to seep around her.
She liked Alex’s house. She would regret leaving it.
“The construction crew says the apartment will be finished in a few weeks. ” She shrugged her jacket off and hung it up with her purse on one of the coat hooks by the door.
“Really?” he drawled. His voice was cool, distant. “That’s fast work. ”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Natches signed off on it immediately. I was surprised. ”
“Did you talk to him about a manager?” he asked.
She shrugged. She hadn’t yet. Maybe she was afraid to.
“Why haven’t you, Janey?”
She looked up at him, feeling uncertain, a little lost.
“Maybe,” she whispered, “as long as he’s not signing off on it, it means he wants to keep me around. ”
She’d done a lot of soul searching after Zeke allowed her to see Hoyt’s journals. It had made her think of her own dreams, her own needs that she had hidden over the years, even from herself. Especially here in the past weeks spent with Alex. She had hidden from herself the knowledge of what it would do to her if she lost him.
She loved him past reason, and she knew it. Loved him enough that she knew she would never fully let go of him.
Alex sighed heavily. “Janey, he did everything he could to protect you for the better part of your life.
What makes you think Natches doesn’t want you here? That he would ever want you out of his life?”
“He doesn’t know me. ” She looked up at him cautiously. “And that’s my fault. Sometimes I fear he’ll look at me and see Dayle. Or our mother. And I get scared inside that I’ll do something or say something, and he’ll see them. Or he’ll remember the beatings he took for me. ” She shook her head as she moved to the table, staring down at the dark wood with a frown. “I played Daddy’s princess, and hated Dayle, and myself, for it. ”
“Why did you do it?” He didn’t move closer to her; he stayed distant, and she ached.
“Because I knew he’d strike out. He was waiting for a reason. He knew Natches would come running.
And he knew then that he’d have the excuse he needed, possibly to kill him. ”
She shook her head again, fighting the tears. She was fighting tears so often in the past few days.
“Then you were protecting him as well, Janey,” he told her quietly.
He moved to her then and his arms went around her. “Baby, you’re one woman. One tiny, fragile little thing. Did you think you should be using your fists like Natches did?”
