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“I didn’t need platitudes and consolation.”
“I did.” She flattened her hand on her chest.
He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. The tension went out of his shoulders. “I’m a shit. Ask Gracie. She wrote it down.”
Moments ticked past. Kerra massaged her brow, got a grip. Looking at him again, she asked, “Is your head okay?”
“Carson told me you called to inquire.”
“At the very least I wanted to know if you were upright and mobile, or undergoing delicate brain surgery.”
“My head injury wasn’t serious. I heard that myself on the news. Oh, wait. Wasn’t that you reporting?”
She glowered at him.
He raised his hands to his sides in an apologetic gesture. “The scalp wound was superficial, couple of stitches. Goose egg went away in a few days.” He paused for emphasis. “But I had to get my head on straight, Kerra.”
It was an idiomatic statement, but rife with underlying meaning. Unable to stay angry with him, she said, “I understand.”
He shifted his weight, looked around the room, and when he came back to her, picked up on Hank. “I’d warned him that if he ever hit me again, he’d be preaching through dental work. His jaw’s wired shut.”
“I hope they throw the book at him.”
“It’s as good as thrown.”
“Glenn?”
“I saw him today. He’s broken over Hank, but at least he’s not behind bars. He was granted bail for health reasons, and, in terms of prosecution, he’s way down in the pecking order. He’s turning state’s evidence. Probably won’t serve time.”
“I’m sure you had something to do with all that.”
He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t admit it, either. She gave him a knowing smile. “The thing is, Trapper, you’re not a shit at all. You only want people to think you are.”
“Must be a damn good act, because most do.”
Even though there was a lot she could say to dispute that, she forfeited the point. “In case you ever showed up uninvited, I kept something for you. Come here.”
She led him into her bedroom, went to the closet, and switched on the light inside it. She dragged out a cardboard box and scooted it across the floor to the side of the bed. “I heard you put the house and land on the market and had all the furnishings auctioned off.”
“Who told you?”
“I can’t reveal a source.”
“You’re seriously going to play that card?”
“Is it true?”
“Yes. That place was never home to me, and, after everything, I knew I’d never go back.”
“Sit down. Open the box.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the lid. Inside were the photos from his bedroom in The Major’s house.
Kerra sat beside him. “I asked Jenks to collect them before the auction. I thought you might want them. If not right now, someday.”
Trapper stared down at the framed photos but didn’t touch them. His chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “I want to believe, Kerra, but…”
“Believe what?”
