Hazel eyes flashed incredulously. “Handle it? You were paralyzed by the sight of that little girl. The one Hannah ripped out of your life.”
“Don’t,” I warned, that old hurt now fully reopened, pulling angrily at the stitches helpless to keep it closed.
“I couldn’t let them say that stuff to you,” she insisted as her frustration mounted, “knowing you’d just stand there and take it.”
“Stop.”
“You’d take the abuse like you’d earned it.”
“Candace, please,” I begged.
“No!” she shouted. “I love you and I’m not going to stop!”
I stared at her in disbelief, but she didn’t look sorry, just determined.
I imagined hearing her declaration any other time. Around a bonfire. Riding shotgun. In the bed of my truck, staring at an ocean of stars.
Not wielded like a weapon in the heat of battle. Not used as an excuse or a defensive maneuver. An explanation and a justification.
Suddenly Candace released a shuddering breath and a sad little laugh, as if she’d just realized she’d admitted she loved me by slinging it at me with a clenched fist. “You might not care about defending yourself, but I’m always going to be on your side, whether you want me there or not. You’re the best person I know. I don’t want that to be a secret—how good you are.”
With a quiet sniff, she brought her thumb up to her cheek and flicked away an errant tear. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke at the end and her face crumpled. She spun quickly before I could say anything—what, I didn’t fucking know. And then she darted up the path and away from me.
I stayed frozen. It felt like someone took a hammer to a gong inside my chest. Past and present were colliding in a clang of emotions all while my heart pounded out a rhythm of dread.
Amid all the thoughts swirling in my head, one emerged shakily to the surface. I realized that I’d lied to Brady earlier. God, not even an hour ago. I’d been so sure I’d never do anything to hurt his sister, but here we were.
She’d done what she thought was right. Maybe she’d been rash and emotional, reacting badly on my behalf. But Ihadhurt her.
And she’d hurt me too.
Maybe that was what love was—giving someone the ability to wound you. A finely honed weapon with the means to leave a permanent mark. A blade, quick and sharp between the ribs. Because that’s what it felt like as I struggled with the pain coursing through me.
And like nothing at all had changed, I stood there and watched her walk away.
twenty
MARK
Monday happened to be my day off, and I was grateful for it.
After Candace marched away from me yesterday, I’d avoided everyone, skipped the Christmas party, and made the slow trek to the parking lot alone.
Twenty-four hours later, and I still wasn’t ready to talk to Candace or face well-meaning sympathy from the Judds.
Sleep hadn’t come easy last night. I missed Candace in bed beside me—her soft warmth, her lavender scent that lingered faintly on the pillow, even her sleepy mumblings—but I was still twisted up over what had happened. I didn’t know how to handle missing someone, loving them, and being angry at them all at the same time.
Rather than sleep, I’d replayed the events of the day over and over in my mind. Each time, my memories snagged on something new and painful. The way Hannah had gone from miserable to inconvenienced at Candace’s appearance. How suspicion had slowly entered the reverend’s features. The little shoes with sparkly butterflies Lyndsey had on her tiny feet. How defeated Candace had looked when she’d wiped her angry tears away.
Now, the afternoon sun was shining, and I was sitting out on the steps of my back deck drinking a beer in the cold. My gaze found the raised beds near the fence line. I had a polytunnel protecting my baby lettuces. They were nearlyready for harvesting after a long growing season sheltered by the plastic sheeting over half hoops.
A few minutes and several sips later, the cat wandered across the grass and toward the porch.
“You’re early for dinner,” I said.
His winter coat was in. The gray fur looked full and thick on his large frame. Yellow eyes scanned me briefly as he mounted the stairs.
With a sigh, I set my beer bottle down beside me, preparing to stand and get the beast his dinner. But before I could rise, the cat walked up to me, as casual as could be, and climbed into my lap. He placed one tentative paw on the thigh closest to him and then gracefully crossed to the other leg before sitting down like we did this all the time.
