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Her head snapped back to Edmund and hope bloomed in her chest. “Was Victor Roberts on the plane? Did he die?” As far as she knew, they’d found no survivors. Maybe.
Edmund shook his head, dousing all hope. “They’ve already located him on the big island. His friends borrowed the plane to fly back to the States. He wasn’t on board.”
She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted Victor Roberts to be on the plane until Edmund answered. Now her body felt weighed down with regret. How much better would the world be without that bastard? How much happier would Keso be?
Keso.She gasped. “Oh my God.”
“What was that?” Edmund returned his attention to her.
She tried to gather her racing thoughts. She had to be wrong. “Do you know what happened? Why the plane crashed?”
He cocked his head as he studied her. “You should know better than anyone, Doc. That plane didn’t crash. It exploded.”
An image of the plane flying above her, a beautiful blue sky in the background, invaded her mind. She remembered the click click click of some unknown source and then the plane blowing apart. Edmund spoke the truth. The plane hadn’t crashed. There had been only pieces remaining by the time it hit the water.
“Word is someone might have made that plane explode,” Edmund continued.
Her heart sank. She’d been afraid he’d say that. “If you’ll excuse me.” She offered him a small smile, then turned and hurried through the jungle toward her cottage.
Please let her be wrong. Victor Roberts had dozens, probably hundreds, of enemies. Still, she only personally knew one man who would do anything to see the bastard dead.
Keso.
No, no, no. If Keso had had anything to do with the plane wreck, if he’d caused the explosion that had hurt Arabella and caused Brodie his livelihood and possibly his life. . .
* * *
“What the hell was that?”
Ian didn’t turn to face Wes, and he didn’t ask what the other man meant. He knew what his friend asked, but he didn’t have an answer. At least not one Wes would like. Instead, he stood at the top of the grass-covered hill and surveyed the crystal water. From this spot behind the clinic, he couldn’t see the damage the plane crash had caused. Before him there stretched only lush green vines and blue water. He’d traveled all over the world, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen any place this beautiful.
“I’m talking to you.” Wes powered up the hill behind him. “You think we’ll get anywhere with these patients or their doctor by insulting them. Since when is that the way we work?”
Ian did spin to face his colleague then. “Since their doctor isn’t just some nameless caretaker. Since the woman I love pretends she doesn’t know me while she stands with strangers. We were her family, Wes, and now we’re fucking interlopers.”
How could she care for these people more than she cared for the man she’d sworn to love forever? More than the men who’d been her closest friends? How had she forgotten them and traded them so callously for these strangers?
“I get that you’re hurt.” Wes raised his hands when Ian started to protest. “You’ve had a shock. Multiple shocks. But you have to keep your shit together.”
Stalking away, Ian scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s alive. Five years I thought she was dead and all this time she’s been here.”
His friend studied him as if expecting him to break down at any moment. Hell, maybe he would. He certainly felt out of control. His mind raced with questions. His emotions ran wild, swinging from joy to anger to confusion to worry. He still loved her with everything in him, but a part of him hated her for the pain she’d put him through when she’d walked away.
“I don’t understand.” He shoved a shaking hand through his thick hair. “We could’ve gotten through the attack. Eventually, we would’ve healed. Why the hell did she leave?” Tears blurred his vision. He looked away before Wes could see. Though, no doubt the other man had heard the emotion in his voice.
“She said the two of you were over before you left Africa.”
Wes’s words hit him like a fist in the gut. “She what? When?”
“After you left. I tried to talk to her, to explain how difficult things have been for you—”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Cameron didn’t need to know anything about the last five years. He wanted her to come back to him, not pull further away. If she hadn’t wanted him before, she definitely wouldn’t want this fucked-up new version of him.
“Well, I did. I told her if she wanted to punish someone for your baby’s death, she should punish me, not you.”
Ian shook his head. “You weren’t to blame. You don’t deserve punishment.”
Wes had done everything he could. Their daughter had been dead before they’d ever found Cameron. Ian had been thankful the doctor had saved the woman he loved, even if she’d hated him for doing so.
“She said she was finished punishing anyone.” Wes met his gaze. His eyes sad. “I think she’s healed here, Ian. She just wants to raise her daughter and be happy.”
He snickered, trying to pretend what Wes said didn’t slice him to the core. How could Cameron be happy without him when he was fucking miserable without her?
“Maybe the two of you weren’t as solid as you thought.”
At Wes’s words, Ian’s vision blurred. “We were solid,” he insisted.
“Were you? Really? You were engaged, but not married. You were expecting a child you hadn’t planned—”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare start dissecting our life. Just because we didn’t do things like everyone else didn’t mean we weren’t committed.”
Wes looked away, chagrined. “What about in Africa? Before she got hurt, was everything okay?”
