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“You should go home, Daddy,” she began to argue the decision.
“Caitlyn, your father said we’re staying. The decision has been made. ” She was using her best “mommy” voice. The one that all three of her strong-willed children understood clearly. That was the final word. Period.
“Fine, but you know he’s just going to cause trouble while he’s here,” she informed her mother as they made their way back to the limo they had ridden in from the airport in Louisville. “He’s a trouble magnet, Mom. Him and John. John’s already causing trouble and he hasn’t been here two weeks yet. ”
“I’m certain we’ll all survive,” her mother stated. “We’ll take you home, then go check out Mr. Mackay’s houseboat. It looked simply charming when we drove around the docks earlier. Did you know your father used to have a boat on the lake as well? When he was much younger. ”
“No. ” Rogue looked at her askance. “And I’m sure I don’t want to know about it, either.
Don’t gross me out with your tales of dating Daddy. Please. ”
Her mother laughed as they sat back in the limo and the vehicle pulled away.
Rogue gazed back at the charred remains of the Bar and wondered about this turn in her life. She was twenty-six years old, and she had just lost the only man she could have ever imagined loving. The knowledge that he had walked away from her that night, claiming to have used her, pushing her back to be protected like a little china doll while he went off to fight the bad guys, still had the power to hurt.
It wasn’t that he had left her there. He had believed she would be safe, she could forgive him for that. No, she was angry, she was hurt, because he hadn’t left with so much as a
“see you later. ” She could have died believing he had felt nothing for her.
It was the betrayal that hurt. When he needed her he hadn’t wanted to accept that she would be there for him. He hadn’t told her the full details of what he was doing and why he was doing it. He hadn’t shared his feelings for her. He had just left her there. He could have died, been arrested for whatever, and gone from her life, and she wouldn’t have known she was any more important to him than the grass under his feet.
Because he had lied to her. He had let her think he was simply using her, when she had known, known to the bottom of her soul that he cared.
“Rogue?” her mother spoke her name softly. “When you’re young it’s very easy to let pride get in the way of what’s most important in your life. Don’t make that mistake. ”
She turned away from her mother’s compassionate gaze and swallowed tightly. Was it just pride?
“He lied to me,” she whispered. “He left me, denying he cared anything for me. ”
“And if he hadn’t come back?” her father asked. “If he’d died, Rogue? He was looking out for you. ”
She fought the tears that would have fallen. “He just left. ”
“And perhaps he had no other choice,” her mother said gently as the limo turned into Somerset and headed for the old town center where her new apartment was located.
“Men aren’t always as logical as they think they are. Sometimes, Rogue, it’s up to the women who love them to point that out to them. ”
“And sometimes it takes a good swift kick,” her father drawled in amusement. “Your mother has delivered a few of those over the years. ”
She stared out the window, her throat tight with unshed tears as she fought the pain that never seemed to ease, the chill that she swore went clear to her soul.
God, she missed Zeke. She ached for him.
“Rogue. ” Her mother touched her arm gently as the limo pulled into the back lot of the restaurant. “Perhaps you should just talk to him. ”
She saw the Tahoe then, the sheriff’s emblem emblazed on the door as it opened and Zeke stepped out.
He was dressed in jeans again, that damned badge hanging on his belt. He wore boots and a gray cotton shirt. The sun blazed around him, making his eyes appear more golden, his expression more imposing as the car drew to a stop.
“Just talk to him, Rogue,” her father suggested gently then. “It doesn’t hurt to talk. ”
The chauffeur opened the door and she stepped out slowly, aware of the door closing behind her and seconds later the vehicle pulling away.
Zeke leaned against the front of the Tahoe, his arms crossing over his chest, his expression imposing.
“Took you long enough,” he growled, his voice dark, deep. His face was almost haggard. He looked as bad as she felt, as though the world had crashed in upon him as well.
She pulled her keys from her pocket, turned, and moved for the steps of the apartment.
