Her brother nodded, leaning fully against Stephen for the first time. His entire body was shaking now. He sucked in a breath, and lifted his left leg over the edge of the tub. A deep curse rumbled in his chest. Momentum had him shifting forward too quickly and as he lost his balance.
“I’ve got you,” Stephen said as Kate’s hands wrapped around Martin’s waist. She pivoted him toward the toilet seat. “We’ve both got you.”
Martin’s right shin bumped hard into the edge of the tub on its way over, but they managed to get him seated. He buried his head in his hands, clenching hair the same wheat color as his sister’s between his fingers.
“Shit,” he said on a pained whisper. “God damn, I didn’t think I was ever getting out of there.”
“When did you fall?” Kate crouched in front of him, looking as if she desperately wanted to hug him.
She linked her hands together instead.
“I don’t know,” Martin mumbled. “A half hour ago. Maybe forty-five minutes.”
“What!” Kate pulled his hands away from his face. “You waited a half hour before calling anyone!”
Martin didn’t respond.
She stood and grabbed the metal device leaning against the wall near the door. The crutch had a hinged section at the top that looked like it was designed to cup the elbow.
“Here.” She passed it to her brother. “I’ll run you by the hospital, just to be sure you’re okay.”
“No need.” Martin glanced up. “I’m just sore.”
“You couldn’t stand on your own a minute ago,” Kate argued.
“Because I couldn’t get to this.” Martin used the crutch to push to his feet. The robe settled around him. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is too a big deal,” his sister blustered.
“I’m fine.”
“You were so fine, you actually called me—me— for help.” Kate motioned around the bathroom. “You sat on your ass in here all that time, freezing to death, even though you clearly could reach your cell phone. Let me guess. You were debating whether or not sleeping in the tub with a broken hip was preferable to having to see me again!”
“I’m gonna head out,” Stephen said.
Brother and sister looked remarkably alike, squared off and both determined to have their way. Blond hair. Green eyes sparking with temper. Stubborn chins lifted. Family stuff was about to bubble up that Stephen had no business witnessing, even if he suspected Kate was setting herself up for an emotional explosion he wished he could spare her.
She’d barely agreed to him coming at all. This wasn’t the moment to push things.
“Thank you, Stephen.” She extended her hand and shook the one he offered out of habit. A weak smile replaced her frown. Her second smile of the night, even though neither had erased the sadness in her eyes. “I’m glad you were here.”
His fingers lingered longer than necessary, as he marveled at the softness of her skin.
“Yeah.” Martin watched Stephen slowly release his sister. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” Stephen turned to leave. “Take care of yourself, man.”
Except there was a problem.
A big one.
He should be pleased with the night’s turn of events. He was gaining Kate’s trust. He’d made contact with someone who could possibly get him information on the Digarros. Working the case should always be this easy.
Except the case wasn’t on Stephen’s mind as he let himself out of the apartment and headed for his car. All he could focus on was how difficult it was for him to leave Kate alone to deal with her brother. How difficult it was for him to leave her, period.
The Digarro case. That should be his concern. But finding a way to make Kate’s serious green eyes smile suddenly seemed far more important.
MARTIN LEANED HEAVILY on his crutch, gritting his teeth. Standing hurt like hell, but that was fine with him. Standing was fan-damn-tabulous. Thank God he hadn’t injured anything major in the fall, even if his legs still refused to stop shaking.
“Lissa said you never installed safety aids in the house in Oakwood,” his sister said as she watched him fight for control. “Haven’t gotten around to them here, either?”
Katie clearly intended to have her say before she left. Well, he’d be damned if that was going to happen in the room where she’d just seen him sprawled on his naked butt.
“So, you have Lissa on speed dial or something?” He forced his legs to move. Okay, so he was not so much walking as shuffling. But he was moving beyond his sister and through the doorway. That’s what mattered. “She still planning on taking a field trip up here?”
“I have no idea what Lissa’s plans are.” Katie followed close behind. Probably had her hands out, in case he stumbled. “She’s been calling me off and on. She wants to know why I’m not doing more to help you. I told her I was doing exactly what you wanted me to. And that she should leave you alone if you didn’t want her around anymore, either.”
He turned in time to see his sister swallow a rush of tears.
He sighed.
“Damn, it’s not that I don’t want you around,” he admitted. “I thought it was better to spare us both this—”
“I’m going to make some coffee.” She brushed past him.
“I don’t want any damn coffee!”
But she’d already turned the corner toward the kitchen.
“Who said it was for you?” she quipped. “My nerves are shot, so unless you have some whisky around somewhere, caffeine will have to do.”
Of course he didn’t have any whisky. Neither of them drank, and for the same reason. But she knew he wasn’t about to let her get behind the wheel and drive back to her place. Not if she was half as shaky as he still was.
“Fine.” He dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. She was already filling the carafe with water. “The coffee’s in—”
“The freezer?” She turned toward the fridge. “French roast, right?”
“Right.”
And it felt right, having her there.
She spooned dark brown granules into the filter she’d dropped into the coffeemaker. In the light cast by the florescent bulb over the sink, she looked just like their mother had, doing the same task every morning of their childhood. Their father used to drink pots of the stuff. The stronger, the better.
How else was he supposed to burn through his hangovers?
Pain shot through Martin again, generated from his heart this time.
“Who’s the suit?” he asked around the lump in his throat.
Katie didn’t answer. Just kept fussing with the coffee until she’d turned it on.
She faced him, her expression blank.
“Stephen was wearing jeans.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Yeah. Two-hundred-dollar jeans. Fancy sneakers that cost more than my dress shoes.” Martin knew the type. “Doctor or lawyer?”
“Legal advocate. He’s representing the father of one of my patients. He was around when you called, so he offered to help.”
“Around?”
Martin knew a bit about that kind of around. He’d trailed after Lissa Carter for nearly a year, until he’d earned her trust, and she’d given him a chance. That had been only a few days before the shooting.
A few lousy days.
“Stephen stopped by the shelter tonight,” Katie explained. “He had some questions about his client.”
“And rescuing me from the shower was his idea of a fun way to spend the evening?”
The coffeemaker hissed, filling the room with a rich aroma. Katie opened the cabinet above it and found his mugs as if she’d gotten them there before.
“He was worried I wouldn’t be able to lift someone your size.” She filled two mugs and brought them to the table. She handed over his coffee, pulled out a chair and joined him.
“Sounds like he’s more than just some lawyer if he knows you have a brother who needs help to get up off the floor.” Martin took a
sip of his coffee. “God, that’s good.”
“We’ve spoken a few times.” She warmed her hands around her mug. “So have you and Lissa, evidently.”
“It’s more her talking to my answering machine, and me listening to the messages. Over and over again.”
His sister nodded.
“Lissa’s still in love with you.” Katie was staring into her mug now. “She’s desperate to find some way to help you.”
“Helping me isn’t her job.” Trying to would only hurt her more. “It isn’t yours, either, Katie.”
“No,” his sister argued, “my job has been to watch you shut people out. You haven’t let anyone get close since you found Mom’s diary. Not even Lissa, not really. And that’s fine. Our father was an abusive alcoholic, and your entire family hid it from you. You needed space to deal with that. But now you’re hurt, and we’re talking about your safety. You’ve got to snap out of this enough to let someone help you, or you’re going to end up permanently disabled.” She looked over his shoulder, toward the bathroom. “Or worse.”
Martin drained the last of his coffee. He set the mug down hard enough to make his sister jump.
“I’ll take care of myself,” he said. “Whatever I have to do. I can’t keep doing things the way I used to. I get it now, so everyone can get on with their lives and stop worrying.”
“Yeah.” Katie stood and took their mugs back for a refill even though she didn’t need one. “Except I think Lissa’s still seeing you as a part of her life. Doesn’t seem as though she’s giving up on you nearly as easily as I did.”
“You didn’t give up.” He hated the catch in his sister’s voice. That the things he’d said out of pain and denial had hurt her. “Don’t put this on yourself. You left Oakwood because we both needed you to. And you left me alone here, because I needed you to. Don’t think I don’t know that.”
He’d been selfish and hateful, and she’d been tearing at herself about it long enough.
“Thank you,” he added, compelled to say it and needing her to believe him.
“For what?” Katie’s forehead wrinkled.
His chuckle came out rusty and tired.
“For coming tonight, and bringing the suit who’s just worried and not scoping you out. For backing me up with Lissa, even though you think I’m wrong. For giving me space, and letting me deny what our father did to our mother long enough to be able to accept some of it.”
She refilled his mug and topped hers off, her back to him again. Weighing her options, no doubt. She’d always been so deliberate. Careful. How else could she have kept their parents’ secret for so long—and kept her emotions under control, so no one would suspect how much she was hurting.
She returned to the table and set down his coffee. He waited silently as she sat.
“Go ahead,” he prompted. “Spit it out, whatever it is.”
She deserved her say, and after tonight they might not have another chance. He planned to make sure of it, actually, even if it meant installing support bars on every wall in the apartment, so he’d never put her through this again.
She looked up, tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Katie…” He reached for her. “Don’t. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed to talk things through. It’s just I…I couldn’t…I couldn’t believe that Dad…Even after all the bruises that Mom had explained away. The nasty arguments, and her crying when Dad wasn’t around to see it. I—”
Katie was shaking her head. Her hand covered his.
“They’re gone,” she whispered. She cleared her throat, working to get the next sentence out. “It was a long time ago, and they’re gone. Now is what’s important. What we choose to do with now. We’ve got to make our lives about what we want them to be, Martin. Not about our parents’ mistakes.”
When he didn’t respond, she pushed away from the table and walked to the sink, which was overflowing with dirty dishes, just like the dishwasher he hadn’t turned on last night. She began running water and adding dish soap.
“Stop messing with things in my house!” He struggled to his feet and limped over to her, relying on the crutch more than he had in months. “What I choose to do with my house and my life is my own damn business.”
The frying pan she’d started scrubbing clattered into the water. Soap bubbles poofed into the air. She turned the tap off with a vicious snap of her wrist.
“You’re not moving on. You moved up here, but you’re living with Mom and Dad’s furniture. Their pictures. You even kept Dad’s truck. You’re still stuck in what you want the past to be. When are you going to fight for the future you could still have?”
“I have a home and a new job here. A new life.”
“Away from everything that’s important to you.”
“I’m supporting myself and living independently. That’s more than the doctors thought I’d ever do. But taking disability from the Oakwood sheriff’s department or working a desk job while my friends put their lives on the line, isn’t what I want. Neither is watching the beautiful woman I’d been planning to build a life around settle for half a man!”
He realized he’d shouted the last few words.
His impotence was most likely a psychological problem, or so every physical therapist and doctor had assured him, including Katie’s ex-husband. There were no physical reasons for it, at least none that they could find. But regardless of whether he ever got past it, Lissa deserved better.
He was coming all the way back, or he wasn’t going back to Oakwood at all.
His sister swiped at the soap bubbles that had landed on her cheek. “If other people are willing to accept what your sacrifice for your job might have taken from you, why are you so determined to quit?”
“I’m not quitting. I’m doing this my way, which doesn’t include everyone else’s ‘the sun’ll come out tomorrow’ bullshit.”
“You’re cutting your losses.” Kate covered his right hand, where it gripped his crutch. “And I understand. I’ve stayed out of the way. But you scared me tonight. What if you’d broken your neck in that shower, instead of landing on your ass.” She squeezed his fingers. “A part of me always thought we’d have time to fix what we’ve messed up so badly. I thought I could live with waiting until we were both ready. But what if we’re never ready?”
“Then we’re never ready.” He pulled away.
“Is that what you’re going to tell Lissa,” Katie countered, “when she decides to get up-close and-personal about being pissed at you?”
He felt panicked at the prospect of actually seeing Lissa again. Weak, useless panic at the thought of her finally accepting that he’d never been the man they’d both thought he was.
He silently limped to the door, yanked it open and waited for his sister to take the hint.
Katie calmly dried her hands on one of their mother’s oldest kitchen towels, fished her keys from her purse and collected her coat from the counter.
“Coffee time may be over.” She marched toward him, her tears and apologies gone. “But this conversation isn’t. I’m as much of an idiot as you are for thinking staying away from each other was the answer.”
Her big-sister tone earned her one of his “you’re not the boss of me” snickers.
Something inside him shifted as she laughed at his reaction. She’d always had the best laugh.
He’d missed that.
He’d missed her.
“What are you planning to do,” he challenged. “Tackle me to the ground and force me to cripple-proof this place? Hold me down, kicking and screaming, while Lissa gives me a piece of her mind?”
“No.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She stepped outside, but hesitated on the tiny strip of cracked concrete that passed for his porch. “But I won’t let you forget that I care about you. Not anymore. We’re family, Martin. The rest is just crap we’re going to have to learn to work around. I have a double shift tomorrow, then I’ve got to find this kid who went missing f
rom the hospital. But I’m bringing dinner over here Saturday night. I’ll make Mom’s lasagna. If you’re not around, I’ll have to leave it at the door for the neighborhood cat. That would be a shame.”
Before he could muster his best bratty-brother comeback, she cuddled deeper into her coat and faded into the shadows. Shadows that reminded him that she’d come with someone, and that it was too late even in a nice part of town for her to be leaving alone.
She turned when she realized he was following.
“What are you doing?” She retraced her steps. “Get back inside. You’ll trip over something in the dark and do even more damage to your hip.”
“I’ll go back, just as soon as you’re in your car.” He held his robe around him. It was freezing outside, and the robe was a size too small. Always had been. But he wore it anyway. Every day. Katie had bought it for him her last Christmas in Oakwood.
“Martin—” She shook her head at his stare, turned on her heel and walked toward the parking lot. “Fine, but be careful. You’d think I didn’t walk in and out of the hospital at all hours of the night on my own,” she mumbled loudly enough for him to hear.” Thank heavens a thirty-two-year-old woman still has big, strong men looking out for her. What would I do, if I actually had to take care of myself here in the big, bad city?”
Despite her fussing, she glanced over her shoulder every few seconds, checking on him, while he watched over her.
It wasn’t the warmest moment they’d ever shared, but by the time she had unlocked her car and was sliding behind the wheel, something about the situation was feeling familiar.
Good.
Right.
“Call me when you get home,” he shouted. “So I’ll know you got in okay. Either that or I’m following you.”
Her growl as she slammed her door and revved the engine earned her his third chuckle of the night. And if his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, there was a smirk on his sister’s face, too, as she pulled away.
Ten minutes later, his phone rang.
“I’m home, brat,” she announced. “Lasagna, Saturday night. Be there.”
She hung up before he could respond.
Always had to have the last word.
Because of a Boy Page 7
