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Oh God. He was so sweet.
She shook her head.
“I’ll just stand here then. Until you’re okay. For as long as it takes.”
She couldn’t let him do that. Ellen raised her head.
It was hard looking at him—really looking at him for the first time in months. It hurt so much she had no breath for a couple of seconds. While she’d changed irrevocably, he looked exactly the same.
Endearingly, perfectly the same. Studying him, seeing in his eyes the other part of herself, recognizing the spirit and soul gazing back at her so tenderly, Ellen started to sob. Great wrenching sounds that embarrassed and horrified her. But they didn’t stop.
“Come to me, baby, come to me,” Aaron said, standing firm in the sight of her agony, holding out his arms.
She wasn’t strong enough to deny him. Or herself. Not anymore. Aaron’s love was what she’d needed since the whole terrifying nightmare began. He might withdraw that love, might be disgusted when he heard what had been done to her body, but that was a chance she’d have to take. It would kill her. But she was dying, anyway, without him.
Stepping into those open arms, she buried her head against the familiar safety of her lover’s chest and wept until her whole body ached.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DAVID DIDN’T PLAY a lot of golf. Had never really developed an appreciation for the game. But he’d been born with an athletic ability that allowed him to do at least moderately well at every sport he tried. He’d played with Will Parsons a few times. And that gave him an excuse to challenge Shelter Valley’s sheriff to a game at the local PGA-approved course. He’d heard that Greg, an on-again off-again player for most of his life, had recently taken a more serious interest in golf.
Greg was a family man now. Settled in Shelter Valley for the duration. And apparently he joined Will Parsons and some of the other men on the course whenever he could.
It was David’s hope that none of Greg’s other golfing buddies would be at the course Thursday afternoon.
“I thought you said you don’t golf,” Greg accused after David’s first tee off—a drive that made it all the way to the green.
“Wait until you see my putting,” he retorted. They had the front nine to themselves.
He’d see how welcome he was when he was through saying what he’d come to say. He still had hope that his life in Shelter Valley would remain intact, that he’d be allowed to do the job he’d come there to do, but he knew what was at risk.
And had to take the risk anyway. There was simply no other choice.
He played through three holes. On the fourth tee, a couple of strokes behind Greg, he stopped. There was no one around to hear them. And no reason for anyone who might come along to be suspicious about why the preacher was talking to the sheriff. They were enjoying a friendly game of golf. That was all.
With both hands resting on top of his three wood, David looked the other man straight in the eye. “I didn’t ask you out here to play golf.”
Still every inch the sheriff in spite of his navy shorts and navy-and-white striped shirt, Greg nodded. “I didn’t think so.”
David respected that. “I’d prefer if what I have to tell you stays between us. My part in it, that is.”
“I’ll do my best.”
In as concise a form as possible, David then did something he’d promised himself he’d never do. He spoke of the life he’d left behind. The man he’d been. The things he’d done.
Or as much of it as the sheriff needed to do his job. To see justice done. To see Ellen avenged. And to see the people of this town, whom David had grown to love, given back at least some of the peace and security they’d lost.
And then, without finishing his game, he picked up his clubs and walked off the course.
His future was in God’s hands now.
MARTHA WAS AT WORK on Friday afternoon when she got a call from Greg Richards. She was to bring Ellen to Phoenix as soon as she could for an identification lineup. Considering how hard Ellen had obviously been crying the day before when she’d come home from school a couple of hours late, Martha hated to put her through this right now. But the girl was prepared for the fact that she would, at some point, be called upon to give her testimony.
Identification of the perpetrator was part of that.
And if the right man had been arrested, perhaps they could begin to move on.
Martha left work early, with a promise to Keith that she’d do some overtime the following week, a promise he scoffed at, reminding her of all the extra hours she put in whenever he needed her. She decided to wait until she got home to tell Ellen where they were going. The girl hadn’t been able to speak to her last night without breaking into tears, and Martha was more worried than ever about Ellen’s capacity to cope with everything that had happened.
