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Izzy clamped down on her breath and went perfectly still.
Annie curled her arm protectively around Izzy’s body and pulled her close.
Izzy felt as if she were melting. For the first time in months, she felt as if she could breathe right. She snuggled backward, poking her bottom into the vee of Annie’s bent body, so they were like two spoons pressed together.
With a quiet, happy sigh, she closed her eyes.
In the early hours of the morning, Annie woke to the scent of baby shampoo and the feel of a small, warm body tucked against hers. It brought back a flood of memories— days long ago and a child that was now far away and hadn’t been a baby in years. She gently stroked Izzy’s sweaty hair and kissed her small, pink ear. “Sleep well, princess. ”
Izzy snuggled closer. A quiet sound answered Annie, so quiet she might have missed it if they’d been outside or if it had been raining or she had been talking.
In her sleep, Izzy laughed.
Annie glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was fivethirty in the morning. Very gently, she peeled back the blanket and climbed over Izzy. Hugging herself against the chill morning air, she walked over to the window and stared out at the lake. Dawn was a pink brush stroke across the serrated black treetops.
“Damn you,” she whispered.
This time, Nick hadn’t come home all night.
Chapter 13
The phone rang at five forty-five in the morning. Annie reached over Izzy and answered softly, “Hello?”
“Hello. Annie Bourne, please. ”
She frowned, trying to place the male voice. “This is she. ”
“This is Captain Joseph Nation, of the Mystic police force. ”
Annie’s stomach clenched. She eased away from the sleeping child and sat down on the cold floor. “It’s Nick . . . ”
“He was in an accident last night. ”
“Oh, my God. Is he—”
“Fine. Apart from a few bruises and . . . a hell of a hangover, he’s going to be fine. He’s at Mystic Memorial. ”
“Was he driving?”
“No. He was smart enough to get a ride home with someone—but not smart enough to pick a sober driver. ”
“Was anyone else hurt?”
Captain Nation sighed. “No. They hit a tree out on Old Mill Road. The driver walked away without a scratch, and Nick just bonked his head a good one. He has a slight concussion. He was lucky . . . this time. I’m calling because he’s going to need a ride home from the hospital. ”
Annie glanced over at Izzy, sleeping so peacefully on the sofa. She couldn’t help remembering the way Izzy had waited and waited for a daddy who didn’t come home— because he was getting drunk again.
Enough was enough. Slowly, she answered, “Oh, I’ll come get him all right. ”
Nick moaned and tried to roll over, but the covers were tangled around his legs so tightly he couldn’t move. Slowly, so as not to punish his already throbbing head, he pushed to his elbows and looked around. Lights stabbed through his brain, and somewhere a radio was blaring.
He was lying in a narrow, metal-rimmed bed. Fluorescent tube worms crisscrossed the ceiling, sending blinding pyramids of light into the white-walled room. A bright yellow privacy curtain hung in folds from ceiling to floor.
He closed his eyes and thumped back onto the narrow bed, flinging an arm across his face. He felt like shit. His head hurt, his eyes ached, his mouth was dry, and his stomach felt as if it had been scraped clean by a rusty scalpel. His whole body was shaking and weak.
“So, Nicholas? You back among the living?”
All in all, it was not a good sign to wake up in a hospital bed with your boss standing beside you. Even worse when that boss was as close to a father as you’d ever known.
