Blue Heron [2] The Perfect Match

by Kristan Higgins

  “Thank you,” Honor said again.

  Her shivering had stopped.

  “You could’ve died for that little rodent,” he said tightly. “Think about what that would’ve done to your family.”

  “I’m sorry I scared you, but—”

  “No, Honor!” he yelled. his voice bouncing off the tile walls. “It was bloody stupid! A dog isn’t worth what a person is. Look at you! You’re all torn and bloody and you could’ve fucking died in that water! Christ Almighty.”

  “Why aren’t you cold, too?” she ventured.

  “Because I’m bloody furious!” he barked. “What would I do without you?”

  He grabbed her weird pink scrunchy thing and doused it with her shower gel. “I mean, with Immigration,” he muttered.

  She didn’t say anything, and after a minute, he glanced up from lathering her shoulders. Her eyes were wet.

  “Don’t you dare cry after what you just put me through. You took twenty fucking years off my life. Are you crying? Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying,” she said, and her voice only shook a little. “It’s just the water.”

  He tossed down the scrunchy and kissed her. Hard. “You fucking terrified me,” he muttered, and kissed her again, this time more gently.

  She was alive. She was safe. She was wet and naked and warm.

  Then, before he took her right here in the shower, he left, streaming water, sopping wet.

  Because the last thing he wanted was to feel all this.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE PHONE WAS ringing when Honor got out of the shower. Tom’s wet shoes were by his bed, and his car was not in the driveway.

  She picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” said Faith. “I’m standing here in the kitchen at the New House. Did Tom steal my truck? Dad says he was driving like a bat out of hell. Is everything okay?”

  Spike, her damp fur standing up in clumps, jumped up next to her and began gnawing on her thumb. Honor stroked her little tummy, and the dog’s tail wagged. At least Spike was all right. Thanks to Tom.

  Honor wiped her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry. I had a little accident. Fell through some ice.”

  “My God! Are you okay?” Faith asked.

  “Yeah. Just kind of cold.”

  “Is Tom all right?”

  “He’s fine. He’s, um, he’s not here right now,” Honor said, and there was an embarrassing little tremble in her voice.

  Faith was quiet for a second. “Dad will drive me to your place. I’ll pick up dinner first, okay?”

  Honor’s eyes filled again, this time with gratitude. “That’d be great,” she said.

  An hour later, filled with chicken tikka masala from Taj’s Indian and two glasses of pinot gris, Honor was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket, Spike snoring gently on her chest.

  Dad and Mrs. J. had interrogated her about her rash actions. Mrs. J. brought a loaf of comforting blueberry bread and checked the larder to make sure she had enough food; Dad gave her a lecture about ice safety. After a half hour, Faith managed to kick them out. Then she tucked Honor in on the couch, fussing over her quite nicely. Blue cowered under the kitchen table, chewing his disgusting tennis ball, afraid to come within a thirty-foot radius of Spike.

  “Tell me again how he tossed you onto shore,” Faith said now.

  “He just...did.”

  “It’s kind of romantic. He’s really strong, isn’t he? Levi says he’s got a right hook that could stop a tank.”

  “Well, he was furious.”

  “Sure. Which is pretty romantic, too.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. Trust me. He was worried about you. He saved you. It’s a good sign.”

  Honor finished her wine and set the glass on the coffee table, careful not to disturb Spike.

  Faith was looking at her thoughtfully. “Honor, you don’t have to marry him, you know. If you’re not sure.”

  “Oh, I am. No. It’s just...he’s a little moody.”

  “He’s a man. Of course he’s moody.”

  “Imagine what they say about us.”

  “They don’t talk about us. They’re men.” She paused. “I think you and Tom are really nice together.”

  “Do you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Honor looked at her pretty sister. Faith had been in love twice, once with Jeremy the Perfect, and then with Levi, whom she’d known forever. Could she tell something was off?

  “Hey.” The back door banged open, and Pru came in. “Heard you fell through the ice. That was stupid of you.”

  “Thanks for your sympathy, Pru,” Honor said. “Faith brought me dinner, Mrs. J. brought dessert. What did you bring?”

  “My good wishes,” she said. “Is Tom in the shower? Can I check on him?”

  “He had to run out,” Honor said. Dad had also asked about Tom’s whereabouts, and it was a little embarrassing that Honor didn’t know where he was (and hadn’t wanted to call, either).

  “Damn.” Prudence hurled herself into a chair. “Where’s Dad? I thought he and Mrs. J. were here.”

  “They were,” Faith answered. “We just got rid of them about half an hour ago. Honor and I were having a heart-to-heart.”

  “Cool! This place is cute, Honor. Nice work. It wouldn’t kill you to invite me over, you know.”

  “Sorry.” The place was pretty cute, Honor thought. Family pictures were scattered about, and a few prints hung on the wall. Honor had filled a shelf with paperbacks to go along with Tom’s books on airplanes and bridges. Faith was curled in the leather club chair Honor had brought from her suite at the New House.

  It was starting to feel like home, in other words.

  “So when are you two making things permanent?” Pru asked, taking a piece of garlic naan and folding it into her mouth.

  “Pretty soon,” Honor said. Unless Tom came home and broke up with her, that was. “Maybe early June.”

  “Speaking of, are we getting matching dresses for Dad’s wedding?” Pru asked. “Because I’d just as soon wear jeans.”

  “You’re not wearing jeans,” Honor said. “And don’t wear jeans tomorrow night, either. You have to wear black or white.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Faith made me buy a dress. You guys are so bossy. Okay, I gotta go. Just wanted to check on you, Honor.” She bent down and planted a kiss on Honor’s head. “See you tomorrow. Oh, hey! Guess what Carl and I did last night? Pumpkin pie has never been so sexy. Wanna hear about it?”

  “Nope,” said Honor.

  “Never,” Faith said at the same time.

  “Fine, fine. No one ever wants to hear my stories.” The front door opened, and there stood their brother. “Hey, Useless. What’s up?”

  “Hey, guys,” Jack said, leaning down and hacking off a piece of blueberry bread. “Honor, I heard you were an idiot and went onto Ellises’ pond.”

  “Yep,” Honor said. “But I rescued your doggy niece, so show a little gratitude.” She pointed to the sleeping Spike.

  “You need to get a life.”

  Faith, Honor and Prudence all snorted at once. “What?” said Jack.

  “Pot,” Honor replied. “Kettle. Black. And I’m living with someone, soon to be married, so shut it.”

  “At least I don’t wander out onto partially frozen ponds and then wonder why the ice breaks.”

  “Thank you, Jack.”

  Tom’s voice made them all jerk around.

  He wasn’t smiling, and his eyes bounced off her and went instead to her siblings. “This is very nice, all of you coming over to check on your sister, but I hope you won’t mind if I ask you to leave.”

  “I personally wanna stay,”
said Pru. “Heard you were very heroic and manly, Tommy boy.”

  “Yes.” He allowed a slight smile. “But you still have to go.”

  “I will if you’ll take off your shirt,” she said.

  “Get out, Pru,” Honor said.

  “Oh, come on! I’m married to Carl. Throw me a bone.” She eyed Tom appreciatively. “Faith got to see him when he was boxing with Levi. It’s my turn.”

  “Let’s go,” Faith said. “Don’t mind her, Tom, she’s having a hot flash.”

  “I have been having a lot of those lately,” Pru said thoughtfully. “I had to lie in a patch of snow today. Felt like simultaneously murdering someone and crying.”

  “Why do we always have to talk about female problems?” Jack asked.

  “Shut up, you big baby,” Prudence said, grabbing her coat. “Fine. See you, kids.”

  “Take care,” Jack said, shaking Tom’s hand. “Thanks for saving our idiot sister.” Faith stood as well, and started to gather up the cartons of Indian food.

  “I’ll take care of that, Faith, but thank you,” Tom said.

  “Okay,” she said, going over and smooching his cheek. “We’d be lost without her, you know.” She hugged Honor for a few beats, her cheek soft and plump, her nice Faithie smell enveloping Honor. When she stood up, her eyes were wet. “See you tomorrow,” she said. She kissed Spike on the head, then dragged Blue out from under the table and left.

  The house seemed much bigger without them. Tom sat down in the chair opposite the couch and looked at her, his face blank. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. Thank you.” It was hard to look at him for some reason. Probably because he’d kissed the stuffing out of her in the shower. When she was naked. And then he’d left.

  Faith was right. Men were not in touch with their emotions. “Why’d you kick out my family?”

  “I wanted to apologize.”

  The words made her bones melt.

  “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

  Oh, snap. Men were jerks. Even if this particular specimen had saved her doggy’s life.

  “Yeah, whatever,” she said

  “And I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

  We love this guy, said the eggs. “Shut up,” Honor muttered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, um, nothing. Not you.” She sat up a little straighter and adjusted Spike, who sighed and wrapped a tiny paw around Honor’s thumb. “Don’t apologize, Tom. You saved us both, and I really, really appreciate it.”

  “Yes.” He paused. “I want you to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You won’t ever risk your life for an animal again. Even Ratty. It’s not worth it, Honor.”

  Ratty’s—er, Spike’s fur was soft under Honor’s hand, and she could feel the dog’s fragile rib cage moving up and down with each breath.

  “Promise?” he said.

  “No.”

  He straightened. “Honor—”

  “No. I’m sorry, but no. I can’t.”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Honor.”

  “Look, Tom, I’m sorry you had to come in to help me. I really am. I didn’t start the day off thinking, ‘You know what? If Spike ever goes through the ice, I’ll definitely risk my life to save her.’ I just...acted. I didn’t plan it, and I’m sorry you had to be involved.”

  “You should be grateful I was! Since you would’ve died without me, don’t forget!” He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “But you can’t risk your life for a dog. She’s not a child.”

  “I know that. But she means a lot to me.”

  “Too much, obviously.”

  Honor stroked the top of Spike’s bony little head. “You know, I was like you. I always thought people were kind of dopey about their dogs. But I never had one before Spike. I mean, we had them growing up, but I never had a dog of my own.”

  Tom said nothing.

  “I proposed to Brogan, did I tell you that? On my birthday. I figured what the hell, I was tired of waiting, so I just did it. You know what he said?”

  “He turned you down.”

  “Yes. He said I was like an old baseball glove. Something you kept, but not something you needed every day.”

  “That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s a simile, and thank you. But I wasted years on him. A decade of my adult life, waiting for him to really see me. He never did. If anyone had ever described that same relationship to me, I’d have said the woman was being deliberately blind to the fact that she was being used. But every time we were together, I thought, This is the time he’ll say what I’ve been waiting to hear, that he’d finally realize he loves me and I’m special and perfect for him and he wants to spend his whole life with me.”

  The memory was still humiliating...all those years, all those other men she measured against a man who didn’t really love her.

  “He never said those things, obviously.” She sighed. “So I was watching Faith and her dopey dog one day after he turned me down, and I called the vet and asked if they knew of any dogs who might need a home.” Her throat tightened. “They were treating a dog who was maybe going to make it. Someone had poured gasoline on her. Her fur was mostly missing, and she was deaf in one ear and she was just getting over a broken leg.”

  Tom rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Honor, I—”

  “When I got to take her home, they had to wrap her in gauze and put her in a special bag, because it hurt her too much to be lifted. And when I was walking to the parking lot, this firefighter came over, Gerard. And Gerard is six foot five and can probably pick up a car, and you know what Spike did? She growled at him. She was protecting me. Five pounds, all beat up and abused, wrapped in gauze, and she was defending me from a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound stranger. She loved me from the minute I saw her. No questions asked.”

  “I understand, but—”

  “So when I saw her fall through the ice, I just went after her. Without thinking, because I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying in there alone.”

  Spike chose that moment to sneeze, waking herself up, and Honor gave the dog a kiss. Spike licked her nose in return.

  “Next time, you have to think,” Tom said softly. “Please, Honor. You’re someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s aunt. And you’ll be someone’s mother someday. You can’t just risk your life for a dog, no matter how much you love her.”

  He looked at her steadily, until she finally nodded. She couldn’t imagine hearing that Faith had died trying to save Blue, or Jack saving that hideous, one-eared cat of his. Tom was right, no matter how wrong it felt.

  She noticed he hadn’t said someone’s wife.

  He stood up and bent over her. “Come on. Bedtime for you both.”

  “I can walk, you know.”

  “But isn’t this more fun?” He gave her the smile she’d seen so much...the one that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. Not that he was faking it; just that his happiness—and heart—seemed locked tightly away.

  “Sure. Do your manly thing.”

  For the third time that day, he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, ignoring Spike as she wriggled and snarled, trying to bite his arm.

  For a second, Honor thought Tom might put her in his own bed, and she wanted that so much her chest ached and her throat tightened, but no, he carried her into her own room. Set her down on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “You need anything?” he asked.

  You, she thought. “No,” she whispered.

  “Sleep well, then.”

  “You, too.”

  With that, he clicked off her light and went to the door. “Honor?”

  Her heart rate sped up. “Yes?
”

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m very glad you and Ratty are all right.”

  Not what she was hoping for. The disappointment made her sink a little deeper into the mattress. “Thank you. For everything, Tom.”

  “See you in the morning.”

  And then he closed her door and went across the hall, leaving her alone in the dark with her dog.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  TOM SPENT THE next morning at the airfield, first extracting a promise from his fiancée that she wouldn’t overdo it getting ready for the fund-raising ball.

  He hadn’t slept the night before. Each time he started to drift off, the image of Honor going underwater would jerk him awake. Four times during the night, he’d checked on her, but she was dead to the world—poor choice of words, that. Ratty had growled at him, though. Ungrateful little rodent. Ridiculously adorable, though, he’d give it that, curled up on Honor’s pillow as if watching over her. “You almost got her killed, Ratty,” he whispered. “Do that again, and I’ll put an end to you.”

  But sleep-deprived or not, he had work to do. His professor’s salary was adequate, but only that. At university, he’d interned with a small airplane manufacturer. The company had a branch in New York, and a few times a year, Tom was hired to modify a plane for an owner. Those fees about tripled his annual income, and while he did love teaching (when his students were motivated, that was), it was nice to do some actual hands-on work.

  Jacob Kearns had been as happy as a puppy when Tom had called him. This job was for an owner who wanted a bit more power for some stunt flying on his Piper Cub. They needed to reconfigure the airfoil, as the bigger engine weighed more and threw off the lift. The rudders would need adjusting, as well.

  Jacob was outgoing and cheerful and utterly enthusiastic about the work, doing calculations, listening astutely as Tom described how the airfoil created a vacuum that helped lift the plane. Funny to think the kid was a recovering drug addict.

  For a panicky second, Tom wondered if that was what Charlie’s problem was—drugs. That would account for his sullenness and withdrawal, wouldn’t it? But first of all, Charlie had acted like that since his mother died. And secondly, Janice Kellogg had had him tested for that last year at his annual physical, and Charlie had been furious at the assumption that because he wore black eyeliner and listened to screeching noise that called itself music, he was an addict.