by J. D. Robb
“I drew it, but Richard helped.”
“A little,” he confirmed.
“A lot,” Nixie whispered.
“It’s great. It’s really great. I look kick-ass.”
Nixie giggled, slid her gaze toward her adoptive parents. “It’s an assignment. My therapist said for me to make a picture of the person I’m most thankful for this Thanksgiving. I thought about it a lot. Because I’m really thankful for Elizabeth and Richard and Kevin, but I wouldn’t have them to be thankful for except for you. I wrote an essay on the back. It’s part of the assignment, and the present.”
“Oh.” Eve turned it over, saw it was a two-sided frame. And as she skimmed the careful writing, felt her throat close.
“Would you read it?” Sinead asked, and looking up, Eve saw the movement had stopped, and everyone waited for her. “Would you read it to us, Eve?”
“I …”
“Why don’t I do that?” Understanding, Roarke took the frame.
The person I’m most thankful for this Thanksgiving is Lieutenant Eve Dallas. She kept me safe when I was scared and I was sad. She took me to her house with Roarke and Summerset and Galahad so nobody could hurt me, not even the bad people who killed my family and my friend.
She told me the truth. She promised me she would find the bad people and make sure they were punished. And Roarke said she would never stop until she did that. He told me the truth, too.
She helped me find Richard and Elizabeth and Kevin. They’re not my mother, my father, and my brother. But they’re my family now, and I know it’s okay to love them. It doesn’t mean I don’t love my mom and dad and my brother.
Dallas didn’t treat me like a baby. She told me I was a survivor, and that’s important. She worked hard, and she even got hurt, but she found the bad people, and she made sure they got punished.
She told me the truth. She kept her promise. So she is the person I’m most thankful for this Thanksgiving. Nixie Swisher.
“Well done, Nixie.” Roarke bent over to kiss her cheek. “Well done.”
“It’s good?” she asked Eve.
“It’s real good,” Eve managed. “I’m … ah. I’m going to put it in my office, at Central. And it’ll remind me to tell the truth and keep promises.”
“Really?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
Nixie threw her arms around Eve’s waist, then ran over to Elizabeth. “She liked it.”
“Yes, she did.” Elizabeth sent Eve a watery smile, then pressed her face to Nixie’s hair.
“That was lovely, absolutely lovely.” Sinead got to her feet. “And a perfect way to lead us to our feast, I’m thinking. Let’s get a move on. With this lot of us, it’ll take an hour just to settle.”
“If I may?” Summerset offered Sinead his arm, gave Roarke the faintest nod before leading the horde out.
“I need a minute,” Eve murmured.
Roarke just drew her in, kissed the top of her head. “She’s a strong, graceful girl,” he said. “You helped her believe the world could be right again.”
“She lost everything, and look at her. She has heart and, yeah, grace and goddamn spine. Then you look at Reinhold. And you wonder why. You’ll never have the answer, but you wonder.”
Steadier, she drew back. “But Sinead’s right. Fine and good right now’s enough. You’d better grab onto that while you have it.”
“And we do.”
“We do. Let’s go eat ourselves sick.”
“I’m for it.”
She took a moment to walk over, set the frame, sketch side out on the mantel above the applewood fire, between the flickering candles.
“I do look kick-ass.”
“Darling Eve, you are kick-ass.”
“You’re not wrong.”
She took his hand, went with him to join the family, the friends, the feast. And was thankful for the now.
How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
A man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green.
FRANCIS BACON
Contents
About the Author
Also by Nora Roberts Writing as J.D. Robb
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Concealed in Death
