Wouldn’t that fry his butt to think someone felt the need to do that?
Expecting to see him sacked out on the couch, she was surprised to find it empty. So were the rest of the rooms. She moved to the window and stared out. No Mustang.
Where had he gone under the cover of the night’s darkness?
Telling herself it was none of her business, she headed back upstairs. Halfway there, she stopped. Hadn’t he caught her when she fell? Didn’t she owe him the same? She didn’t imagine for an instant he’d thank her for it. Still…
Dressed, she carried a sleeping Daisy to the car and strapped her in. The child never stirred.
As she drove away from the house, her little voice chastised her for this fool’s errand, one that would, no doubt, have Tucker kicking her and Daisy out. If that happened, if he hated her for interfering, she couldn’t stay in Misty Bottoms.
Regardless, she couldn’t turn her back on his pain.
Driving aimlessly, she thought back on the day at the park and remembered how his gaze had strayed to the war memorial. Her mind caught on that ever-present key around his neck and his time as a Marine. All parts of the puzzle that made up Tucker Wylder, that kept him up at night.
When she turned onto Main, she spotted his Mustang. In the dim light, she made out Tucker’s silhouetted figure. He sat in the grass, one hand on the granite marker.
Suddenly, she was every kind of sorry she’d come. She had no business snooping on his private moments, and this was definitely one of those. She had to leave, had to go home without him seeing her.
Heart beating rapidly, she searched for a side street to turn onto.
Too late.
His head came up and he stared at her headlights, at her car. He’d know it was her, that she’d headed into territory he’d warned her against.
Slowly, he rose to his feet.
Resigned, she pulled in behind his car and cut her lights. Rolling both her window and the passenger side one partway down, she quietly opened her door and slid out. Tucker stood ramrod-straight, his hands at his sides, clenched in fists.
For one second, she felt the slightest frisson of fear. She didn’t really know this man, didn’t know his history or what he might be capable of. She’d thought she’d known Luke, only to find out she’d fallen in love with a façade.
“Tucker?”
“What in the hell are you doing here, Elisa?” His voice was deep and gravelly, each word clipped. “Where’s Daisy?”
And that told her everything she needed to know. She didn’t need to fear Tucker. Despite whatever was going on inside him, his first concern lay with her daughter.
“She’s asleep in the car.” Elisa cursed the tremor in her voice. “I left the windows partially open, so I’ll hear her if she wakes.”
“Why are you here?”
“That’s what I’m wondering.” She took several steps closer. Even in the filtered light, she saw the despair etched on his face. “Why are you here, Tuck? Why aren’t you home in bed?”
He raked unsteady fingers through his hair. “We’ve been through this. Sleeping’s not one of my talents.”
“Why?” Her question was whispered.
“Why?” His laugh wasn’t one of humor, but of self-degradation, of self-loathing. “How much time do you have?”
“All night.” Taking his hand, she pulled him back to the grass.
“How’d you find me?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Guess not.” He plucked several blades of grass and let the breeze carry them away. “Look, this doesn’t concern you. It’s my problem.”
She shivered.
“You’re cold.” He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
His heat warmed her and made her that much more determined to help him.
“Go home. Go to bed, Lissie. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll follow you.”
“No.”
“No?”
She read the disbelief on his face. “You didn’t walk away from me when I needed help.”
“I don’t need—”
“Stop.” The single word snapped in the night air. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Don’t you dare feed me some line. Not here. Not now. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to accept help from a total stranger? To become your charity case?”
“I never thought of you that way,” he bit back angrily.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Satisfied she’d sparked anger over self-pity, she went on. “You’re not a charity case, either. But I’ll tell you one thing, Mr. Tucker Wylder, that’s as clear as that aristocratic nose planted in the middle of your face.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You need saving every bit as badly as I did. And by damned, you’ll let me do it.”
He dropped onto his back and stared up at the stars. “Okay, the lady has a temper.”
“You’d better believe it. People look at me and see soft. Far from it. I’ve gone through too much to be soft. Naive, maybe. Innocent? Not so much. I won’t be walked on, and I won’t be belittled.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“You are—by assuming I can’t help you.”
He sighed deeply. “Look, you’re right, okay? I’ve got a problem. But—” He held up a hand. “I can solve it. Myself. It’s time to roll up my sleeves and tackle it head-on. That’s why I’m here tonight.”
“It’s something that happened in the Middle East.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah. I lost four of the best friends a guy could ever have because a pompous, arrogant lieutenant colonel decided to throw his weight around. He refused to listen to anybody. Hard-Ass Harry always knew best. Since he wasn’t the one out there getting blown to bits, what did a few grunts matter?”
“Hard-Ass Harry?” Elisa’s throat constricted.
“Yeah. My LC. A total prick. I hope to hell he gets what’s coming to him.” He rolled to his side, studying her. “Hey, you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
“It’s the moonlight.”
“Like hell. It’s you. You shouldn’t be out here in the night air. You’re gonna get sick.”
“No. I’m not.” She shook her head. “I’m not some hot-house orchid.” But her stomach pitched, and she thought she might lose those pancakes she’d eaten. Lt. Col. Hard-Ass Harry. Oh God! “Tell me. Tell me everything. I need to know.”
“I haven’t told anybody everything.”
“Then it’ll do you good. If you want, I’ll lie beside you in the grass. You won’t need to see me, and I can’t see you.”
“Like a confessional?”
“If that works.”
“You know, if Sheriff Jimmy Don or Sam decides to do a drive-by, they’ll haul our sorry asses off to jail.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
“There’s a whole other side to you, isn’t there, Lissie? You can be pretty pushy.”
“Darned right, so don’t you forget that.”
They lay side by side in the grass, hips touching. The dark enveloped them and provided a blanket of anonymity. He eased into it, and she let him.
“I’m gonna start by saying that anyone who’s gone to war has things that eat at him or her. I’m not alone in this, and I’m not feelin’ sorry for myself.”
“Understood.”
She felt more than saw the unwilling smile touch his lips.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“Yeah. Too bad nobody can figure out what that something else is.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” he said.
“And I think you’re procrastinating.”
“All right.” He took a cleansing breath, then let it out slowly. “Here goes. When I joined the Marines, I’d intended to be a lifer. That didn’t work out so we
ll. I did my tour, signed up for a second, then left the minute I was free to go. Things happened that I can’t get out of my head. During the day, I can pretty much manage to keep them at bay. At night? They come crawling out.”
“Is that why you won’t share a house with Gaven?”
“Partially. I need a lair, a place of my own. Truth is, though, even before I became a Leatherneck, I tended to be somewhat of a recluse. I love my brothers, but I need head time. Maybe it came from Brant and I being born so close together. There was never a time when it was just me. And doesn’t that sound selfish and petty?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“When Gaven came along, the twin beds became a twin and bunks…and a snotty-nosed little brother. Mom finally got tired of my whining and turned our small den into a room for me. But nine months later, my sister, Lainey, showed up and that room became a nursery, so I went back to bunking with Brant and Gaven.”
“I grew up alone, wanting brothers and sisters,” Elisa said. “Guess we’re never happy, are we?”
He turned to her. “You said your mom was always off digging up relics. What about your dad? Where was he?”
Oh, zigzagging dragonflies. How did she answer that? “He, um, was rarely home, then he and my mom divorced.”
“I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand. Heart aching, she tightened her fingers around his and prayed she was wrong. If he found out—
She shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Not to throw your own words back at you, but don’t feed me a line.”
“You’re right.” She squeezed his fingers. “I hated not having my parents around. I hated being different from everyone else at school. I hated that my grandmother had to take care of me and that I’d created a problem for her.”
“You didn’t create any of it. You were the victim.”
“My grandmother was, too.”
“You know, I doubt very much she thought of herself as a victim or you as a headache. My guess is she figured herself blessed to have you.”
“That’s what she said,” Elisa whispered.
“Then you should believe it.”
She was silent for a few heartbeats. “We’ve strayed way off-track. What happened, Tuck?”
“You are nothing if not persistent.”
“That’s right. So spill it. You’ll feel better.”
“I sincerely doubt that.” He fingered the key at his neck. “First off, the names on this stone?” He nodded at the slab of granite. “My name should be on one like it somewhere.”
“But it’s not.”
“No, it’s not. You know why? Because while my friends walked into a trap and died, I stayed behind, safe at base.”
“My guess is that wasn’t your choice.”
“Not directly. I disagreed with Hard-Ass Harry’s orders to carry out a plan that had zero chance of success.”
“Hard-Ass Harry.” The words came out in a whisper, her heart working to block them, barely allowing the sound to escape. She swore her heart would implode. Did she dare ask his lieutenant colonel’s last name?
“Yeah.” Bitterness oozed from him. “The egotistical jackass was dead wrong, but he wouldn’t even consider he might have misread the situation. Because I dared to insinuate I knew better than him, I had to be taught a lesson.”
“Tuck.”
She didn’t think he even heard her, his mind reliving that night. She didn’t know if she could bear hearing the rest.
“My punishment?” His voice broke. “I was confined to base. Because of that, I lived. The others all died.” His fingers tightened on the key. “Angie, Nate, Jorge, and LeBron. They’re gone. Forever. If I’d been there, I might have been able to stop it.”
Her heart broke. There was nothing to say, no words to heal this kind of hurt.
“Because of a bad decision made by an arrogant prick—excuse my language—but because of him, some very good people lost their lives. Their futures.”
She had to leave, and the sooner the better. He’d never forgive her if he found out. It had to remain her secret. She’d hoped…but no. Not meant to be.
“Go on home,” he whispered. “I’ll be there in a few.”
“Tuck—”
He leaned on one elbow, touching a finger to her lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’ll get through this.”
“Do you have to do it alone?”
“I do. Can you handle Daisy by yourself? Get her inside to bed?”
She smiled sadly. “I’ve been doing it for three and a half years. I think I can manage it tonight.”
“And you’re doing it alone,” he said.
“Point made.” She rose to her knees. “Your friends. They wouldn’t want this, Tuck. They wouldn’t blame you, and they certainly wouldn’t have expected you to be able to fix everything or to change the outcome. Maybe you’re giving yourself too much credit.”
His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Superman only exists in comic books.”
Even in the muted light, she saw the heat on his cheeks. She assumed it was anger and was sorry, but she wouldn’t take it back. Unlike Atlas, Tucker couldn’t carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. She knew, though, he’d continue giving it one heck of a try.
“Promise you’ll come home soon.”
“Home.” He sighed. “I will. If I can ever truly find it.”
Chapter 15
Tucker was gone when Elisa stumbled downstairs the next morning. A note lay on the counter beside his coffee machine, the handwriting, bold and black, splashed across plain white paper.
Tons to do. Left early. Be sure you eat—carbs and protein. Thanks for sharing the night. Hope you got back to sleep.
Tuck
Not a wasted word. Very Tuck. A sigh bubbled up from her toes. Thanks for sharing the night. Words to make her heart stutter. If only they’d shared it differently. Just thinking about Tucker made all her girlie parts want to sing. Remembering the night they had come together made those parts stand up and belt out the “Hallelujah Chorus”—until she replayed the ending.
The man was so off-limits he wasn’t even on the map.
Maybe.
Did she dare risk another night with him in his bed, in his arms?
He’d told Gaven they had a date tonight. After the shared nocturnal confidences, would he keep it—or had it simply been bluster for his brothers? And for heaven’s sake, what was with all these questions, the mental debate? Her head felt ready to burst.
She hit the brew button, hoping to sneak a first cup before Daisy scooted down the stairs. While she waited, she scooped her hair up and off her neck and secured it into a long tail.
If things hadn’t already been complicated enough, Hard-Ass Harry had now been thrown into the mix. The omnipotent Lt. Col. Harold Eklund, leader of men and abandoner of family. She’d barely slept a wink last night. After demanding that Tucker share all, could she do anything less?
If she’d ever hoped, down in the deepest pocket of her soul, that there was the slightest chance for her and Tucker, last night had extinguished it.
Good old Dad had finally shown up. What perfect timing.
* * *
Tucker ran the final calculations and entered them into the computer-generated estimate sheet. After a lot of back and forth, he and his brothers had decided to restore the second car for their pain-in-the-butt customer, the one they’d been arguing about when Elisa paid her surprise visit.
She seemed to make a habit of popping up unexpectedly. She’d sure caught him off guard at the park last night, insisting he’d feel better if he got it off his chest. He hadn’t. If anything, he’d felt rawer. In telling it, he’d relived that day, that night—every minute of it. Maybe in time it would settle. Right now, he wondered how he’d ever face her again.
No
thing to do about that now, so he hit PRINT. He’d file a hard copy of the estimate, then send one off to their client.
He heard Gaven drive up. Brant had located a few hard-to-find parts for the project they were working on, and Gaven had made the Savannah run to collect them. The bell over the door jingled as he swung through. Two steps inside, his younger brother stopped. “Whoa. You look like hell. Bad night?”
“You could say that.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
“A couple of hours.”
Gaven, usually cavalier, set the can of paint he’d tucked under one arm on the counter. “Why don’t you go home and grab a couple of hours of shut-eye? There’s nothing pressing here. Leave whatever you’re doing, and Brant can either finish it up when he gets back with lunch or you can do it tomorrow.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not.” Arms folded over his chest, Gaven leaned against a bookshelf that held their manuals and parts lists. “It’s time we all quit pretending you are. Everybody’s been pussy-footing around this, but you’re not all right, Tuck. You’re different. Whatever happened to the Marine over there changed you, the person. Why won’t you share what’s going on in that hard head?”
“I’m telling you, I’m good.”
“Not buying it.” He pinned Tucker with a hard stare, the easygoing younger brother having disappeared. “Do you need to see someone? Maybe visit a doc down in Savannah? Nobody here would need to know.”
Tucker blew out a ragged breath. “Look, I know you worry about me. Don’t. This will pass.”
* * *
Time to see Doc Hawkins. Elisa had meant to do it yesterday, but Desdemona had kind of derailed her plans.
“Where are we going, Mommy?” Daisy’s question snapped Elisa out of her reverie.
“To see Doctor Hawkins. Remember him?”
“Uh-huh. He was nice. He didn’t give me no shots.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“The lady was nice, too.”
“Brinna.”
I've Got You, Babe Page 17
