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“You’re going to see Sheriff MacKade.” Connor stepped into her bedroom doorway. His eyes were swollen and shadowed, there was a faint bruise on his cheek, and he was still so very pale. Cassie wanted badly to gather him close, but he was standing so stiff.
“Yes. I need to talk to him, Connor. I need to thank him for what he did.”
“He’ll say it was his job.”
“Yes, I know he will. That doesn’t mean I don’t have to thank him. He could have been killed, Connor, for us.”
“I thought he was dead at first.” When his voice broke, he sucked in a breath and steadied it again. “When he fell, and there was all the blood. I thought we were all going to be dead.”
She shuddered, tried to keep the tears out of her voice. “I’m sorry, Connor, for what I did, for what I didn’t do. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t ever. I shouldn’t have said those things.” He wanted to look away, but he knew that would make him a coward. He knew what cowards were like now. “It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t the way I really felt. I said it to hurt you, because I felt bad.”
“Connor.” She held her arms out, closing her eyes tight when he raced into them. “That part of our lives is over. I promise you it’s over.”
“I know. You were pretty brave.”
Unbearably touched, she kissed the top of his head. “So were you.”
“This time.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Sheriff MacKade stood up for us. Emma and I want to go with you. We talked about it. We want to see the sheriff.”
“It might be better if I talked to him alone, just now. He’s feeling… He’s upset.”
“I have to talk to him. Please.”
How could she deny her child the same closure she needed for herself? “All right. We’ll go together.”
From his seat on the front porch of the farm, Devin saw them come out of the woods. He nearly got up and went inside, but it seemed a small and petty revenge.
They looked like a unit, he realized, and he supposed, however much it hurt him, that was what they needed to be.
His head was still aching, and his hands burned. But that was nothing compared to the pain in his gut as he watched Cassie and the children cross the wide front lawn.
There were bruises on her face, and on the boy’s. Fury flashed in his blood like lightning. Then Emma broke away from Cassie’s hand and raced to him.
“We came to thank you because you took the bad man away.” She crawled right into his lap, as if she belonged there. “You have hurts.” Solemnly she touched her puckered lips to the cuts and bruises, to the white bandage on his temple. “Is that better now?”
He gave in for a moment and pressed his face into her hair. “Yeah, thanks.” Before Cassie could speak, he shifted Emma onto his knee. “If they haven’t contacted you, I can tell you they’ve already transferred him to the state prison. With the new charges—the escape, the assaults, grand theft auto, the weapons possession, assault with a deadly weapon and—” he ran his fingers over his ripped knuckles “—and resisting arrest, he’s not going to see the light of day again. You and your family have nothing to worry about.”
“Are you all right?” was all Cassie could manage.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Just fine.” Her fingers curled and uncurled over Connor’s. “We wanted to come and thank—”
“I was doing my job.”
“I told her you’d say that,” Connor said, and earned a mild glance from Devin.
“So, I’m predictable.” He looked back at Cassie. “You handled yourself well, Cass. You want to remember that. I’ve got work to do.”
As he started to set Emma down, Cassie moved forward. “Devin, please, don’t.”
“He hurt you.” The words burst out of him. “He hurt all of you, and I didn’t stop him.”
“You were shot, for God’s sake. You were lying there unconscious and bleeding.”
“The bad man was going to shoot you again,” Emma told him. “But Mama wouldn’t let him. She lay on top of you so he couldn’t.”
