by Toni Blake
“It’s Duke Dawson,” he identified himself.
And Logan reacted as most people did, balking slightly. “Damn—wouldn’t have known you, Duke.”
Duke didn’t bother explaining for now, instead just saying, “You mind if I talk to you about something?”
Logan looked a little wary and Duke understood why. He and Logan hadn’t ever hit it off. But he was a nice enough guy to say, “Sure,” anyway. Then he motioned up ahead. “If you go right on Blue Valley Road, there’s a turnoff about half a mile up.”
A few minutes later they stood next to each other looking out over Blue Valley Lake, much larger than the lake on the hill. And hell, it seemed like a downer to bring up such an ugly subject on such a pretty summer day, but Duke got down to telling Logan what he wanted to talk about and why, concluding with, “You seem like you got yourself together, like you’ve got a good life going. So . . . how did you get over something like that?”
Logan didn’t answer for a minute, and Duke saw that his eyes had clouded over. He felt the need to say, “Sorry, man—if you’d rather not talk about it, that’s cool. I understand.”
But Logan shook his head and said, “No, I was just thinking through the answer. But the tricky part is—it’s no single thing. Part of it is time, and distance. And part of it is just . . . learning to let it go, especially the guilt part. And part of it is accepting that things happen the way they’re supposed to in life, even if it doesn’t make any sense to us. And part of it was . . . well, for me, it was Amy. She just helped pull me out of it, helped me get strong again, in my mind.” Logan stuck his hands in his front jean pockets. “Don’t suppose you have anybody like that—a girlfriend—to help you . . . focus on better things?”
But Duke nodded. “Actually, I kinda do. She’s . . . done more for me than she probably knows.”
“That’s good,” Logan said. “It helps to . . . not be alone with your guilt. And I guess the most important part is having faith that it’ll get easier. It never goes away completely, but the time comes when you just feel . . . better. And if you know that’s coming and keep focused on it, you’ll get there.”
As Duke and Logan prepared to part ways a few minutes later, Logan said, “If you ever need to talk about it more, let me know.”
And Duke thought that was a hell of a nice offer, for which he thanked Logan. But . . . “I’m leaving town soon.”
Logan gave him a short nod. “Well, good luck with it, wherever you end up.”
Duke rode away with a sense of . . . hope. He’d been feeling a lot better about Denny for a while now, but hearing Logan say that would keep happening, more and more, lifted his spirits further. And Anna had definitely given him better things to think about. He’d have to thank her for that before he said goodbye.
And why are you saying goodbye again?
He wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but what it boiled down to was . . . complications. Commitments. He wasn’t sure he was ready for either, and to stay with her after the house was done seemed like it would fill his life with both of those things. And it would just be smarter to get over Anna, get over all this, and get a fresh start someplace new.
He’d come to the stop sign at the end of Blue Valley Road, ready to turn toward Half Moon Hill, when Mike Romo’s cruiser went past—and then stopped right in the middle of the damn highway and backed up. In better times, Duke would have been tempted to make a joke about issuing him a citation for that, but as it was, when Mike turned onto Blue Valley Road and pulled up next to him, he just stayed silent.
“Dawson, that you?”
He didn’t bother removing his helmet. “Yep.”
“Still keeping to yourself up in the woods?”
“Yep.” Except for when I’m with your sister. “But don’t worry—I’ll be heading out soon.”
Mike gave a short nod, but then glanced up the road. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing out here by Blue Valley Lake?”
Duke could have said he was just riding, but opted for the truth instead. He just wasn’t in the mood to fake anything right now. “I was talking to your buddy Logan. Thought he might be able to give me some advice.”
Mike looked surprised. “On?”
Duke kept his voice steady, strong—but distant. “Uh, I think it’s called . . . survivor’s guilt.”
And that was when he saw Mike’s eyes change. As he remembered what Duke had been through, he supposed. Maybe he’d forgotten up to now? Either way, his reply clearly had Mike viewing this whole situation in a new light—that fast. “I’m sorry about what happened, Duke. I know it was bad.”
Glad he still wore his helmet and sunglasses so that Mike couldn’t see any reaction on his face, he simply said, “Thanks.”
“And listen, sorry if I came down on you hard that night in the woods. I guess I didn’t stop to think about . . . well, any legitimate reason you might’ve needed . . . room to breathe.”
Duke couldn’t help himself from saying, “That’s a big change in attitude, Officer Romo. What’d I do to get on your good side?”
Mike didn’t look the least bit pissed, though, as he answered. “Maybe I just remembered you’re my brother’s best friend for a reason. And that everybody goes through bad stuff from time to time, and that maybe I could stand to be a little more decent to you.”
Beneath his helmet, Duke’s jaw dropped. But he only said, “I appreciate that, Mike.” Then he gave his head a tilt, wondering what he was missing here. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe you were going through something.”
“I am,” he admitted. “I’m having a baby in about six months and I’m scared shitless.”
“Wow,” Duke said. Just that. Though he’d already heard this news, he thought Mike Romo was about as ready to be a father as he was—and that wasn’t saying much.
“Yeah, wow,” Mike repeated.
“I’m sure it’ll work out,” Duke said. Since he had to say something.
Mike nodded, seeming more like his straitlaced cop self than he had there for a minute. “Yeah, it will. ’Cause it has to. Sometimes in life you gotta rise to the occasion, and guess my time’s now.”
Rachel lay on a table in a doctor’s office in Crestview, naked from the waist down under a white paper sheet, wondering where the hell her husband was. Just then, he came through the door—looking drop dead handsome in the same uniform he’d been wearing the day they’d met. “Sorry I’m late.”
“This is not the time to stress me out, you know.” She could hear the tension in her own voice.
“I know, honey,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Then he walked over, bent down, and kissed her on the forehead.
And she couldn’t recall a time when she’d ever seen Mike Romo act so contrite. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in the semblance of a smile. “Guess I’m just realizing that . . . we need to pull ourselves together about this. We’re having a baby and we can handle it. There are people with far worse problems.”
Rachel was still trying to figure out where the real Officer Romo was when the door opened again, this time admitting an ultrasound technician. “Are we ready?”
“As we’ll ever be,” Rachel quipped.
And a moment later, she saw . . . well, the most extraordinary thing—an intricate set of dots on a screen that the female technician informed her was their baby. She looked at it, studied it closely as the other woman talked—pointing out the head and other body parts—and it became more real to her, more alive, than it had been up to this moment.
And then something totally unexpected happened—her heart began to swell.
Because it was their baby. Their baby. Hers and Mike’s!
And he was holding her hand, squeezing it tight. And breathing became a little difficult as it struck her fully. And she heard herself saying, “Oh my God, Mike, look! Look what we made together! It’s . . . a baby.” Which she’d known all along, of
course, but . . . to see it, even just like this, was different. It was . . . inside her. Moving, becoming, growing. Into a tiny little human being!
A glance up at her handsome husband’s face revealed he was undergoing a similar revelation. “God . . . it’s amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured.
As she swallowed back the lump in her throat, her excitement became mixed with . . . an unexpected sense of peace. It dropped over her like a blanket at the moment when she’d least expected it. And though she’d refocused her attention on their baby on the screen, now she looked back up at Mike and said, “Everything’s actually going to be okay, isn’t it?”
“More than okay, honey,” he said warmly. “I’m starting to think it’s gonna be . . . freaking incredible.”
Then Rachel laughed. “I just hope you like the baby more than you like the cat.”
And Mike said, “As long as the baby stays off the counter and doesn’t get hair in my cereal, we’ll be okay.”
“Aren’t you worried about Lucky driving in the demolition derby?” Amy asked Tessa. They sat in the easy chairs at Under the Covers while Anna stood behind the counter.
“Kind of,” Tessa said. “But it’s hard to imagine anyone more capable than him, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Then she directed her attention toward Anna. “Are you coming to the derby Saturday night to see Lucky drive, Anna?”
Anna glanced up, in a bit of a fog. “Um, I didn’t realize it was this Saturday already, but yeah, sure.”
Now Amy turned her head toward Anna, too, flashing a look of concern. “Are you okay? You seem . . . sad today. Or something.”
“I’m fine,” Anna insisted. And she tried to smile. But she could tell it hadn’t quite made it to her face.
A few minutes later, as Amy was talking with a customer, Tessa stood up and walked over to her. “What’s going on? What has you so down? Something with Duke?”
Anna didn’t mind sharing with Tessa, and she’d have been honest with Amy, too, if Amy had known Duke was in town. “He’s just . . . well, he’s planning on leaving soon. And I kinda didn’t see that coming.”
Tessa appeared even more shocked by this than Anna had been. “Where’s he going?”
Anna shook her head. “Who knows? And it doesn’t even matter. The upshot is that he . . . obviously isn’t into having anything real with me. Whether it’s because he’s a loner at heart or he just doesn’t care enough about me, I don’t know—but he’s ready to leave. And . . .” Okay, this part suddenly wasn’t as easy to share. Especially given that she’d spent most of her life pretending to be strong in order to actually be that way. But it seemed that once she’d let down that wall, it wasn’t so easy to put it back up. And so she heard herself whispering to Tessa—because she didn’t want her voice to crack, “It just . . . really hurts.”
Tessa’s eyes widened in understanding. “My God, of course it hurts. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. And . . .” She gave her head a forlorn shake. “The man can have you and he’s leaving? I love Duke, but what an idiot.”
“Thanks,” Anna said softly. And the truth was, she agreed with Tessa. She kind of thought she was a pretty good catch herself—and she knew that when she and Duke were together and he let down all of his walls, what they shared was amazing. And special, just like Tessa had said after seeing them together.
“Is there anything I can do?” Tessa asked, reaching out to touch her hand.
But Anna shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” Eventually. Somehow.
Though Tessa didn’t look convinced as she said, “Well, come hang out with us all tomorrow night at the derby and it’ll at least get your mind off him for a little while.”
Anna nodded, but she didn’t say any more because just talking about the situation made her feel . . . weak. That’s the problem about letting down your defenses—once they’re down, you’re vulnerable, naked, and there’s no going back. She supposed there was a reason she’d always been so careful to present the tougher, stronger side of herself in life up to now. It was so much safer.
And yet, would you take back loving him if you could? Would you take back knowing the wonder of that, the giddy joy it brought for a while? Would you take back the closeness you felt opening up to him, and when he opened up to you? They were hard questions, but the truth was—she couldn’t be sure she would change anything. Other than the end of the story. Because she knew for a while she’d made him happy, and she’d helped heal his wounds a little—and even now, that felt worth a lot.
When Duke had come home yesterday after his announcement, Anna had been cordial but quiet. Not by design—it was simply the best she could do. He’d remained upbeat, though, at one point even tossing her a wink to say, “Cheer up, Daisy—I’m not that great.”
It had surprised her for him to even bring it back up or acknowledge his news might be responsible for her mood. She’d just said, “You’re right, you’re not. So I’ll be fine.”
And he’d laughed. But she hadn’t actually thought anything was very funny. And whereas working with him before had been fun and even fulfilling—now, every moment, every little piece of gingerbread trim they put in place, was like taking a step closer to his leaving, and it was difficult to escape the heaviness that weighed her down.
She’d also spent time yesterday still trying to find out more about Cathy and Robert—giving up on the attic and moving on to the computer. She Googled Cathy’s name but found nothing useful. And she didn’t even know Robert’s last name, so locating any information about the boy Cathy had loved was impossible.
Just then, a knock came on the bookshop window and they all looked up to see Sue Ann smile and wave as she passed by—she wore a pretty dress of blue polka dots, and Anna suspected she was on her way to work at Destiny Properties, just off the town square.
On a lark, Anna said to Amy and Tessa, “Be right back,” then rushed out onto the sidewalk to stop Sue Ann.
“Whoa there, girlfriend, where’s the fire?” Sue Ann asked on a laugh as Anna nearly mowed her down.
But Anna felt too tense to even fake a giggle. “I need to ask you something.”
Sue Ann’s eyebrows rose in pleasant anticipation. “Sure. Fire away.”
“It’s about Cathy, the woman who used to own my house. What do you know about her? Do you know if she ever married? Or had kids? And if she married, do you know her husband’s name? And did he die before her? Was she alone in the house for many years before she passed away?”
When Sue Ann held up her hands and said, “Stop,” Anna realized she was rambling, asking too many questions at once. So she went quiet only to hear Sue Ann say, “I don’t really know anything about her family, Anna—but who told you she died?”
And Anna flinched, confused. “Huh?”
“She’s not dead,” Sue Ann said.
Anna’s back went ramrod straight. “She’s not?”
Sue Ann shook her head. “No. She just moved to an assisted living facility in Crestview. About ten years ago, I believe. She left the house when she couldn’t handle the upkeep due to a bad back. But otherwise, as far as I know, she’s doing fine.”
Anna nearly fainted. All this time, she’d just assumed the home’s previous owner had died years ago—due to the place being in such a state of disrepair. And when she’d signed the papers to buy the house, the other signature had belonged to a man she’d been told lived in Florida, so she’d assumed it was some relative of the owner’s whom the place had passed down to or who was handling the estate. “But . . . who sold the house to me? At the time, I didn’t much care or pay attention, and it all went through so quickly . . .”
“A cousin of hers, I think—he was a real estate attorney, and she sold the house to him when she moved out. He planned to fix it up and resell it, but just never got around to the fixing-it-up part—and then he moved away.” Sue Ann stopped then, giving her head a pointed tilt. “But why do you suddenly care so much about this?”
Anna sighed. How coul
d she possibly explain? Keep it simple. “I’ve just . . . found a lot of her old things. And it made me curious about her.” She still couldn’t believe Cathy was alive! But now that she actually stopped and did the math—oh Lord, it made sense. Cathy was only around seventy. And sure, she could have died from a disease or something, but regardless, she hadn’t died, and this meant the picture Anna had been carrying around in her head of Cathy growing old in the house wasn’t true. “Do you happen to know the name of the facility where she lives?” Anna asked.
“Sure. It’s called Shady Acres Village. It’s right off Morningview Highway where it leads into Crestview. You’ve probably driven past it a hundred times.”
Anna still couldn’t get over it—Cathy had been that close all this time! But the important thing was—she was going to meet her! And she would find out how the story ended.
That night, over a dinner of grilled chicken salad, Anna told Duke that Cathy was alive and well and living in Crestview and that she planned to drive over and visit her in the morning.
“That’s amazing, baby,” he said, looking as if he really understood what a big deal it was for her. He’s not actually a jerk. He just doesn’t love you, that’s all. You have to make peace with that and move on with your life.
“I thought I’d take her the diaries, and a novel Robert gave her, and maybe the picture of him from the cabin.”
Duke nodded. “I actually meant to bring you the picture before now. I was gonna get it the night Mike was there—but that sidetracked me. I’ll go get it for you after we eat,” he offered.
She tried not to let that touch her at all and simply thanked him.
Later that night, after she’d placed the diaries, book, and photo in a small shopping bag on a table by the front door, Duke walked up behind her, eased his hands around her waist, and lowered a kiss to her neck. It felt good—too, too good—so she pulled away.
He said nothing at first and an awkward moment grew between them—until finally he asked, “Should I go sleep in the cabin? If you don’t want me here anymore, I understand.”
