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As I stand there, giving her the time she needs to gather her courage, I take in her appearance. She’s wearing the same long dark blue skirt she was wearing when I got home, but instead of the short sleeve shirt she was wearing before, she’s changed it for a long-sleeve white one. I have no doubt it’s to hide the marks on her arm. She’s also let her hair down, again to use as a shield. I hate that she feels she has to hide away. Her body may be marred, but that doesn’t make her weak or any less of a person. Those marks are a sign of strength; whoever put them there didn’t destroy her—she fought and came out on top.
I step closer to the bar and call her name gently. “Doe.” It only takes her a second to look up at me. Her eyes don’t meet mine; instead, she darts her gaze over my shoulder. I know Tavers and Mindy are standing there, but they aren’t advancing, giving me a few minutes with her.
“Look at me.” When she does, I step even closer to her, keeping a couple of feet between us, but ensuring she sees me and not the people behind me. “You’ve got this.”
She nods after several moments, and I witness her pulling her strength forward. Her chin lifts, and the stubbornness I saw earlier is back. I hold the smile I want to let loose and step to the side.
“Doe, I’d like you to meet my good friends, David and Mindy Tavers.”
Mindy speaks first. “Hi, Doe. It’s very nice to meet you,” she says with a smile. She stays at Tavers’ side, but I know she’s dying to step forward and wrap Doe in her arms. That’s just the way Mindy is. She’s sweet and caring, wanting people to be as happy as she is and hating it when someone is hurting.
“Hi,” Doe replies quietly. Her head is lifted, but her hair is still partially covering her face. She smooths her hands along the material of her skirt. “Thank you for all the clothes and the other things you sent for me.”
Mindy smiles. “It was my pleasure. Please let me know if you need anything else.”
Tavers clears his throat, and Doe’s eyes flicker to him. I feel rather than see her body stiffen slightly, and it makes me want to step closer to her. Shield her from a threat that doesn’t exist.
“It’s nice to meet you. Call me Tavers. Only my wife and mother call me David.”
Doe nods then we all stand there for a moment until Mindy steps around me, making sure to keep several feet away from Doe as she makes her way to the sink and washes her hands.
“Is there anything I can help with?” she asks Doe after drying her hands on the hand towel hanging from the handle on the oven door.
Before Doe turns to face her, her eyes lift to mine, and I give her an encouraging smile. She pulls in a breath then walks around to the other side of the bar. I watch as she quietly starts conversing with Mindy, telling her she can finish the tomato while she starts on the cucumber. Doe doesn’t talk much, but that doesn’t bother Mindy. She talks enough for them both. Not in an annoying or pushy way, but silently telling Doe she can move and interact at her own pace.
Tavers has that same look on his face when I look over at him, and again, I ignore it. I walk over to the end of the bar.
I keep my voice low when I tell Doe, “Tavers and I are going out back to throw the meat on the grill. You good in here?”
I can tell she doesn’t want me to leave, but she gives me a silent nod. I glance over at Mindy, and she gives me her own nod, letting me know without words she’ll take care of Doe. I lift my chin in thanks, grab the plate of marinated meat out of the fridge, and with Tavers behind me, we walk out back.
I don’t turn to face him when he comes to stand beside me, intent on lighting the gas grill. After the meat’s situated on the grill, I close the lid then lean back against the railing, only then looking at him.
Before he has a chance to say whatever’s on his mind, I shoot him a glare and forestall him. “Don’t.”
He doesn’t heed my warning, just as I knew he wouldn’t.
“She’s not Aislin, Niko,” he says.
“You don’t fucking think I know that?” I stand from my perch on the railing and stalk over to the small cooler I have underneath the patio table and grab two bottles of beer. After tossing Tavers one, I twist the cap off mine and throw back several long pulls. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I regard Tavers again.
“Helping her won’t make what happened to Aislin any less painful,” he continues.
I open my mouth to argue. Not because I think helping Doe will somehow relieve me of the guilt for not helping Aislin, but because he has the situation all wrong. I’m not helping Doe because I think it will help me. I’m helping her because she has no one. Just because I feel a pull toward her doesn’t mean it has anything to do with Aislin. Yes, their situations are similar, but I haven’t replaced Aislin with Doe.
“You’re getting too close,” he says before I get a chance to voice my opinion. “What if this doesn’t turn out the way you want it to?”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I growl.
He sets his beer down on the shelf connected to the grill then leans back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I just mean, you don’t know anything about her. You don’t know where she came from or if she has family out there. If she gets her memory back, she may remember someone out there who’s looking for her.”
“And? You don’t think I want that?” I run my fingers through my hair roughly, becoming frustrated. “It would be great if she has family out there. That means she’s not alone. But it’s not looking promising. Her picture’s been out over a week, and there have been no leads.”
He looks down at his boots before lifting his head again, the look in his eyes turning uneasy. “What happens if someone does come forward? Are you prepared to let her go?”
His question has my chest feeling like it’s caving in on itself. I’m aware of the crushing sensation, but I refuse to acknowledge it or give it credence. It’s a feeling that has no right in my life. It’s not the time—I’m not sure there will ever be a time for me—and Doe is not the woman. Not that having those sort of feelings for Doe isn’t incomprehensible, but she isn’t ready for something like that. She may never be ready.
