He opened his mouth, to argue, she thought, but then something in the rearview mirror caught his eye. He snapped the wheel to the right, onto the shoulder of the road and yelled, “Hold on!” instead.
An engine roared behind them, and a robin’s-egg-blue pickup pulled alongside. Too close. Caroline couldn’t see the driver, just a pair of African-American forearms and hands on the steering wheel, yanking to the right, into them.
Metal squealed on both sides—where the vehicle doors clashed next to Matt, and where the rear quarter panel scraped along the guardrail on her side of the car.
Matt swerved left with little effect. The pickup was bigger, heavier, than her SUV. The blue truck rammed them again, pushing them deeper into the protective barrier.
My God, he was trying to run them off the road!
Chapter 8
The screeches and groans of straining metal twined with Hailey’s terrified cries as the two vehicles wrestled for control of the road. Her heart in her throat, Caroline unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over the console to check the car seat behind her.
Matt fisted one hand in her shirt and pulled her back. “I said hold on!” Growling as the pickup banged into them anew, he swept the wheel left and banged back. “Fasten your seat belt.”
With one last, longing look at her baby, Caroline turned around. She fumbled with her shoulder strap with one hand and held on to the door handle with all the life in her with the other. “What are you doing?”
“Getting us away from this maniac.”
She glanced over her shoulder again. The urge to crawl in back with her baby almost overpowered her common sense, but she wouldn’t do Hailey any good dead. “Matt, please. Be careful.”
He followed her line of vision. The high color on his cheeks faded to pale. The man in the pickup used the moment’s distraction to ram them again. This time, the SUV’s rear wheels broke through the guardrail, momentarily rode the edge of the steep slope into the aqueduct before Matt muscled them back onto the shoulder.
“Is she strapped in tight?” he asked.
Caroline scrutinized the belts and buckles. “Yes.”
“She’ll be fine,” he said, but Caroline had a feeling he said it to reassure himself as much as her. “Brace yourself.”
Instinctively, she put an arm out in front of her to protect herself. Matt stood on the brake and her body lurched forward, the seat belt the only thing keeping her forehead from connecting with the dashboard. The pickup truck shot past them as they slowed, but its rear bumper snagged the front bumper of the SUV, turning them sideways before finally releasing them.
The SUV spun like the teacup ride at the county fair. Hailey’s warbling wail rose to a steady whistle, and Caroline’s stomach flipped. The right front quarter panel bounced off the guardrail. Then the left rear. Matt swore and Caroline closed her eyes. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.
Only when they came to a stop, the driver’s side wedged against the guardrail, did she realize she’d been praying. Was still praying.
God, please protect Hailey. Don’t let anything happen to my baby.
Matt rose from his seat like an avenging angel. Only he wasn’t coming for her. He scrambled over the center console, clumsily cramming his body through too small a space, and into the back seat.
He cupped a big palm over the top of Hailey’s head, and the panic in his voice tore at Caroline’s heart. He could pretend he had no feelings for his child, but all she had to do was listen to him to know better.
“Shh, Hailey. You’re okay. It’s all right now. It’s over,” he murmured. Gradually her cries softened to whimpers.
“Is…is she all right?” Caroline asked.
“I think so. She still strapped in good and tight. I don’t want to move her.”
Relief swept through Caroline with such violence that she thought she might be sick. On shaky limbs, she crawled over the console to the back seat.
And into Matt’s waiting arms.
At noon on the following Tuesday, two days after the incident on the highway, Matt took a stroll to the pond. It was a pretty spot—the greenest on the farm. The surface of the water reflected the strong midday sun. A few green reeds sprouting from the shallow areas swayed, more from the rippling of the water than any wind.
Caroline had spread a blanket beneath the weeping willow, and sat propped against an old tree trunk, book in hand. Hailey, all dolled up in matching pink coveralls and sunbonnet, entertained herself with a rattle at her mother’s feet. In a clear area some twenty yards away, Jeb rolled a rubber ball around on the ground. The ball, specially made for visually impaired children, chirped regularly so he could track it. Alf ran toward the boy, and Jeb forgot the ball and tracked the dog instead.
Matt stepped on a twig. Caroline started, her head snapping his way. As soon as she saw him, her gaze turned wary, remote. She’d hardly said two words to him since the accident.
Accident, hell. Someone had tried to kill them.
But that didn’t explain the way she was acting now. She was scared, he thought. Not just of what might have happened, but of what had happened. Afterward.
Something changed between them in those moments of comfort they’d sought and found in each other’s arms before the police arrived. The aftermath of the near tragedy stripped away their defenses. Left their true selves exposed. Whether they chose it or not, those true selves shared a bond. Fifteen years of love and marriage. Two children. They knew each other the way people rarely did. They responded to each other—physically, emotionally and spiritually.
As they held each other, Matt had finally realized the futility of trying to separate his life from hers. They were like two threads in an intricately woven carpet. If one tried to disentangle them, the whole damn rug unraveled.
He was pretty sure Caroline realized the same thing. Maybe she’d realized it a long time ago. The problem was, neither one of them had a clue what to do about it, because in addition to the love, they shared a lot of hurt. A lot of painful memories.
But a beautiful day such as today wasn’t for painful memories. It was for looking ahead, even if only to the short term. Hell, even the short term was a major commitment for him. He’d been living day-by-day too long. But today he had a proposition for Caroline, and he needed her to say yes.
He held out his peace offering—peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a couple of bananas, a container of the creamy vanilla yogurt she kept stocked in the refrigerator and three bottles of water. “Lunchtime,” he said.
She checked her watch. “Is it that late already?”
He took that as an invitation—or at least not a blatant rejection—and sat on the blanket, laying the tray of food between them. “’Fraid so,” he said.
She pushed the multishaded strands of brown hair that had sprung free from her ponytail back behind her ears. “The hammering on the roof was scaring Hailey. She was fussing.”
“I know.” He’d heard her crying. The sound triggered myriad memories, both sweet and bitter. “Can’t blame her. Upstairs it sounds like they’re pounding directly on your skull.”
Caroline called Jeb to get something to eat, which he grabbed and ran back to his game with Alf. “Watch that sandwich there, sport. Alf’s got a soft spot for peanut butter and jelly.”
The sandwich dangled precariously close to Alf’s twitching nose.
“Jeb, come sit here with us and eat,” Caroline called.
“Aw…”
“Let him go, Caro. If Alf gets the sandwich, I’ll make Jeb another.”
Caroline looked dubious, but relented.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Silence was good, he thought. He used it a lot in negotiations. Put the pressure on the H.T. to fill the silence, to open up. Eventually he’d work the conversation around to what he wanted to talk about.
Mentally he cursed himself. Caroline was right. He really needed to stop putting everyone in the same category as the crazies he had to deal wit
h on the job. He should just dive in to what he wanted to say like a normal person. Not manipulate the conversation. But from where he sat, this diving board was too high. The water was a long, long way down.
Maybe he’d start with a subject a little less controversial. “The deputy came by a while ago.”
Caroline almost choked on the bite she’d been chewing. “Gem?”
“No.”
Her gaze fell to the blanket. She put her sandwich down, unfinished.
“But they located Tom Justiss. He’s right where he’s supposed to be in Bayou Lejeune, Louisiana. Works in a carpet mill there. He’s got an alibi for the night of the break-in, and he doesn’t own a blue pickup truck.”
“Then it wasn’t him.”
“Doesn’t look that way.”
“But it wasn’t Gem, either. We don’t know who it was.”
Guilt punched Matt in the gut. “I tried to get the license plate—”
“You were a little busy.” She cut him off firmly. “Saving our lives.”
In his head, he believed her. No one could have read that license plate while trying to control a spinning vehicle. That didn’t stop him from thinking he should have found a way, however.
“You’ve really got to get over this Superman complex of yours, you know?” She sounded stern, but her eyes held a teasing glint.
“I’ll try,” he said seriously. “Right after I see about some glasses to correct this X-ray vision.”
She laughed, wiped a dab of jelly from the corner of her mouth. Her smile slowly faded. “At least Savannah’s safe.”
“I had the sheriff cancel the patrols past her place.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced. He hadn’t told Caroline he’d been running with the local cop shop.
She didn’t miss a beat. “Patrols?”
He shrugged. “I asked them to drive by a couple of times a night. Just to make sure.”
“I’m glad.” She picked at the crust of her sandwich.
“Then why so glum?”
“I’m happy Savannah and Jeb are safe, but where does that leave us.” Her glance at Hailey defined us.
“Gem still has means, motive and opportunity. We don’t know if this boyfriend of hers is black or white. I’d say this points the finger back at her.”
“That’s because you’re cynical.”
“That’s because I’m a cop.”
“Do you ever stop being a cop, Matt?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line.
“You have something against cops now?”
“What about when you aren’t able to be a cop anymore?” she asked. “What will you be then?”
“How should I know?” He rolled to his back, away from her probing gaze, and laced his fingers behind his head. Outside the curtain of willow, the sky overhead was clear and blue. Vast. So vast, it made a body feel small to look at it. “I don’t have a crystal ball.”
“It doesn’t take a crystal ball to see where you’re headed. You’re going to be alone, Matt. You’re going to be old and tired and alone, because you’re afraid to love anybody anymore.”
He closed his eyes. The peanut butter and jelly wasn’t sitting well on his stomach. “Is that your opinion, Dr. Burkett, or have you consulted with Dr. Justiss, too?”
She didn’t take the bait. He felt her lean over him. Felt her shade cover him. Her breath next to him.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she breathed.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t have an answer. She waited a long time. An eternity passed. Then another. A thousand things he wanted to say rushed up from deep inside him. Clogged his throat. Damn it, she knew how to use silence, too.
Hailey, however, didn’t. The baby squalled. Caroline drew back and picked her up. He expected Caroline to pack up and leave, wished for her to hurry, before his heart opened up and all his secrets spilled out.
Caroline didn’t leave, though. He wasn’t sure what she was doing until he heard…her sigh. A sound he remembered from so many groggy nights and early mornings. The tiny sucking sounds. A little gurgle. She was nursing Hailey.
He opened his eyes, helpless to not watch. Of all the times between the three of them, him, Caroline and Brad, the times she had nursed their son were the ones Matt remembered most clearly. There was something so…elemental, so basic, about a baby at its mother’s breast that all the other cares in the world seemed to fall away during those magical moments. A man’s whole world reduced to unflinching observance of his baby’s instinct to feed.
To live.
He surged up beside his wife and child, propping himself on one palm. The need to shelter, to protect that fragile life roared in his blood.
Hailey’s eyelashes fluttered in pleasure. Matt watched the flow of life between mother and child, mesmerized. Caroline watched him, watching her.
“Why did you really come here, Matt?”
“I wanted to ask you a question.”
“I mean why did you come to Sweet Gum.”
He reached out and touched his daughter’s leg. She was smooth, like cornsilk. Soft as a marshmallow. “You know why.”
“To get a divorce? You could have done that without riding a bus all the way to Sweet Gum.”
“Maybe.”
“Why did you really come?”
The words tore out of him unbidden. “To make sure you were all right.”
“Is that the only reason?”
She knew why he’d come back. She knew, and yet she was going to make him say it. “I wanted my life back.”
“Your life. But not your wife,” she said carefully.
He wrenched his gaze away from Hailey, immediately feeling the loss of…something, and looked at Caroline. Sweet Caroline. It was a song. He used to sing it all the time. Hum it. Drive his partners at the P.D. crazy with it.
“Maybe they’re one and the same,” he said.
He watched in mute fascination as her eyes widened. Helpless to stop himself, one of his hands settled in the small of her back—embracing, or preventing her escape? Even he wasn’t sure. His other hand cupped the elbow with which Caroline held Hailey, adding his support to hers. And then his mouth came down on Caroline’s.
With their infant daughter cradled between them, Matt nudged Caroline’s lips with his own. He tasted their velvet texture, nibbled on their sweeping curves, devoured their lush, succulent flesh. She tasted like peanut butter, grape jam and iced tea.
He heard a whimper, thought it was Hailey and eased back an inch to create more space between him and Caroline, only to realize it was his wife who had made the plea. She followed him back, her free hand curling around the back of his neck, and held him close. A rumble started inside him, choking and spitting at first, like a diesel engine that had long lain dormant. It rolled up his chest, gathering steam, and crashed straight into the kiss.
Matt pushed Caroline’s lips apart with his tongue, seeking entrance to the dark recesses on the other side. She opened to him and he speared into her, plunging, plundering, then withdrawing and coaxing her with him.
Hailey’s suckling noises mingled with the moist give-and-take of the kiss. Matt let go of Caroline’s elbow and cupped his palm over Hailey’s downy head as he drew Caroline’s tongue into his mouth. He drew on her as surely as Hailey did, and the thought of being joined together that way, the three of them, inflamed him beyond imagining. His body pulsed and gathered. Nerves he’d thought dead flared to life. He lifted his hand from Hailey’s head, searched out the hem of Caroline’s shirt and found her other breast. The tip was peaked and moist. Ready.
He touched her gently because he knew she’d be tender, remembered how sensitive she was when she was nursing, and inhaled her gasp. When her life-giving milk spilled over his hand, it was he who gasped. He leaned into her, tilting her back, lowering her.
A shrill voice stopped them, mid-descent. “Hey! What’re you doing?”
Jeb.
&n
bsp; Caroline’s head snapped up so quick she banged Matt in the chin. He reached for the sore spot with the hand he’d had behind her back, and she and Hailey nearly toppled at the sudden lack of support. Matt made a grab for her, but missed, distracted by the sight over her right shoulder. “Stop right there!” he yelled in his cop voice.
Balanced on a fallen log that stretched a good six feet into the pond, Jeb froze. His ball floated a foot beyond his reach, chirping gaily. On the bank, Alf barked.
Matt spared the dog a glare as he jumped to his feet. “Now, you tell me.” He turned back to Jeb. “Just stay still. Don’t move.”
“But my ball’s in the water. I can hear it, though. It’s right—” Jeb shifted his hips to point toward the ball. Unfortunately, that threw his balance off. His mouth rounded. His eyes widened. His arms flailed wildly, but to no avail. “Whoo—whoo—whoa!”
He landed in the water in a splash that would do any five-year-old proud.
Matt broke into a run and was at Jeb’s side before the boy had issued his first sputter and hauled the boy up by the waist of his pants. He was about to launch into a tirade about being careful when the sight before him suddenly sunk in. He took a long look at the boy’s lanky body made even ganglier by clinging, dripping clothes; the still-flailing—and still knobby—knees and elbows; the lily pad caught behind one ear.
Jeb sputtered some more, mumbled something about pond scum, but Matt couldn’t really hear the words over his own laughter. He laughed so hard tears built behind his eyes. He laughed so hard his sides ached. Eventually, Jeb joined in, reaching down and splashing a handful of water up on Matt. Matt promptly dunked the boy, who came up sputtering and laughing even harder. Behind them, Matt heard Caroline join in the chuckles.
When the need for air overrode humor, and the laughter died down, Matt asked Jeb what the boy thought he was doing out on that log.
“I couldn’t get my ball. I called and called, but you didn’t answer.” Jeb screwed up his face. “What were you doin’ anyway? Sleepin’?”
Keeping Caroline Page 11
