by K Carothers
Then her gaze shifted to the metal and plastic partition that divided the front and back, and a memory flashed through her brain. It hit her like lightning…
“You just sit right here, Erin,” the police officer said.
She reluctantly climbed into the back of his squad car, and he closed the door, leaving her alone inside. She looked out the window, but there were metal bars on them and it was hard to see. Then she turned forward and saw the metal screen between the front and back seats. It felt like he’d put her in a cage.
“Mommy!” she sobbed, though she knew her mother was dead. She’d seen her on the ground. But she cried for her anyway. “Mommy! Mommy!”
Luke got into the car and glanced over at Erin. She sat motionless, looking at the back seat, her expression transfixed in horror. He checked to see what might have provoked such a reaction, but nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Erin,” he said, lightly touching her arm. When she didn’t respond he lifted his hand to cradle her chin, turning her to face him. “Erin,” he softly repeated.
She blinked, and her gaze came into focus again. But he could still see fear and pain darkening her green eyes. “What’s going on in there, Erin?” he asked.
“I—I just remembered…the night my mom died,” she managed to get out in a broken whisper. “I—remember what happened. They…they put me in a police car afterward.”
Luke took her hand. “What do you remember?”
Erin didn’t answer, unable to say more as unspeakable memories from the past continued to assail her—ones she hadn’t even known existed. She remembered the fight…Her mother screaming. The terror she’d felt at the sound…The horrific image of her mother’s broken body on the ground…
She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, trying to block out those images and sounds, trying to fend off the pain. She desperately searched for the safe place in her mind that had kept her sane so many times before, but it was nowhere to be found now, and she didn’t know what to do. So she concentrated on Luke’s hand and held on tightly until the storm inside her calmed a little, and she could at least breathe again.
“Talk to me, Erin.”
She finally looked at him. And when their eyes met she saw more than just a summer day in his warm blue gaze, she saw the safe haven she hadn’t been able to find in herself. “I…I don’t know how much Jenna has told you about my family,” she tentatively began. “My parents, they moved to Los Angeles right after high school, and I was born there…But I have very few memories of LA. And I couldn’t remember anything about the day my mom died—until now. My grandmother never let me forget that they’d both been drunk and high that night, and that my father…he killed my mom in an argument. But I hadn’t remembered I was there, or exactly what he’d done. And I never really wanted to know…I’d forgotten that he’d—he’d pushed her off the balcony of our apartment.”
“Did you see it happen?” Luke asked, tightening his grip on her hand.
Erin turned to stare absently out the windshield. “No…I’m pretty sure I was in my bedroom when I first heard them arguing. I remember going into the living room and seeing them out there. I got scared and hid behind a chair, I think. But then my mom started screaming, and it sounded like she was getting farther away, so I ran out to her. My father was there, looking over the side. I looked down too, and saw her on the ground.” She’d been lying face-down in a pool of blood on the concrete below, motionless, limbs askew. Erin wished she could at least put that image back into the cobwebs of her memory where it had been. But she couldn’t, so she closed her eyes and focused on Luke’s warm fingers again, not wanting to feel anything else but him.
Luke knew he had a lot of work to do. A shooting involving the mayor’s son would mean hours, even days, of interviews and reports. But everything could wait. Erin needed him more at the moment. So he just sat there and held her hand. “I’m glad I was here with you when you remembered,” he said softly after a while.
Erin opened her eyes. She looked down at Luke’s hand and was amazed by her response to his touch. She should be uncomfortable with it. She always had an instinctive tendency to pull away when she was touched. But now she wanted it. She needed it. “My father…He—he’s in prison for life, in California,” she told him, stumbling over the repulsive words. “Seth Slater…I haven’t said that name in forever. No one else knows except Jenna.” She glanced at Luke, wondering if she would see the same disgust on his face as she felt. But she saw only concern in his eyes. “Has she told you about him?”
Luke nodded. Jenna had asked him to keep track of the man. He knew more about Slater than Erin did. And now that she was here, he was going to have to talk to her about him. But not today.
“I tell people they both died in an accident. It’s easier that way—and a lot less ugly than the truth.” Erin impatiently brushed a tear away. “They should never have had a child.”
Luke let go of her hand, and she was sorry to see it go. But then he put his fingers under her chin and turned her to face him again. “Don’t say that, Erin. Maybe they weren’t the best parents, but they made an incredible child, a wonderful woman. And you’re obviously a great doctor. I’m sure that kid would be dead today if it wasn’t for you. And then another one would be going to prison for murder. You didn’t have to help, but you did. And you saved two lives.” He gently wiped away the tears sliding unheeded down her cheeks. “I’ll bet there have been plenty of others too. No matter how it happened, a lot of people are grateful your parents had you. And you should be just as grateful.”
“I’m sorry,” Erin said miserably. “You’d think I was two instead of thirty-two. I’ve been a blubbering mess since Jenna told me she’s sick. And now this.”
“You can cry all you need to. Like I said before, I’m glad to be here for you.” Luke found a tissue and handed it to her. “How is Jenna? She was pretty worn out after the trip.”
Erin blew her nose. “I don’t know. I haven’t even gotten to New Dublin yet.”
Luke stared at her, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “You were just getting into town when all this happened? Jeez, Erin! Jenna wasn’t kidding when she said you have a knack for being around when shit hits the fan.”
Erin made a weak attempt at a smile. “I doubt she said it quite like that, Luke. I haven’t heard her swear once in twenty-six years. And what I have is a black cloud. A big, ugly black cloud. I hear it all the time.”
Luke shook his head. “You won’t hear it from me. I think you have a white cloud.”
“I think that’s a brand of toilet paper,” Erin told him.
They looked at each other and grins split across their faces simultaneously. And in the next breath they were laughing.
“It’s a good thing you’re a white cloud then,” Luke said. “You’re the perfect person to be there when shit hits the fan.”
Erin laughed again. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I feel down in the dumps.”
Luke’s eyes dropped to her mouth as she continued to smile. God, she had such a beautiful mouth. He remembered being mesmerized by that mouth when they were in school. Of course, he’d been mesmerized by a lot of her parts back then. But she’d never really paid him any attention.
With an inward sigh he pulled his eyes away from her and started the car. He needed to put his fantasies aside for the moment. He still had a gunfight to sort out, and he was probably going to get a call from the mayor any minute. “If you’d like, I can call you tonight and let you know how Jesse is doing,” he said, easing the vehicle up the gravel road.
“Yes, I’d appreciate that. Do you have a piece of paper? I’ll write down my cell phone number.”
“Just tell me. I won’t forget.” He had an exceptional memory. It had helped him excel in school and in his career. It just hadn’t been very good for his love life—not when it left him forever haunted
by green eyes flecked with gold.
Erin told him the number, then continued to study his profile. He was good-looking, very good-looking, but there was no pretentiousness about him. He had such an open and honest face. The combination was compelling. She hadn’t realized until now just how single-minded she’d been about getting out of New Dublin. She couldn’t believe she remembered so little about him. She especially couldn’t believe she’d forgotten how blue his eyes were.
Careful, Erin, she told herself. You’re not here to get involved with him. You’re here for Jenna. And then you’re leaving this town behind forever.
“Those boys in the shooting, do they get into trouble a lot?” she asked in an attempt to change the focus of her thoughts.
“Not at all. I know them both from football. I help coach in the fall. Connor is a wide receiver and Jesse Torres is our star running back—one of the best in the state actually. And we’ve never had a problem with either one of them. In fact, I thought they were good friends.” Luke glanced at her, shaking his head. “Every time I think I’ve seen it all, something like this happens.”
Erin nodded. “I know. I say that all the time in the ER. But the one thing there will never be a shortage of is ways people find to hurt each other—or themselves.”
Luke grimaced. “Which is why I log so many hours at the hospital myself. And here I thought I was going to skip that family tradition.”
“Did you ever think about going to medical school?” Erin asked curiously.
“No. My two older brothers went, and I saw enough to know it wasn’t for me.” Luke flashed her a grin. “Besides, I always thought guns were way cooler than stethoscopes. And I got a lot more respect from my brothers once they knew I might be carrying one.”
Erin laughed softly in response, and a moment later they reached the highway. She saw her old, yellow Audi was still parked where she’d left it, but for some reason it looked different. Probably because all the other cars are gone now, she thought.
Luke pulled around behind it and walked with her over to the driver’s side door. “You have a full load there,” he said, glancing into the car. It was packed to overflowing.
Erin smiled sadly, turning to face him. “I never thought I would say this, but I hope I’m here for a while.”
Luke took her hand again. “I hope you are, too.”
Looking up into his eyes, Erin saw her own sorrow reflected there. And then she wasn’t sure if he made the first move, or if she did, but suddenly they were in each other’s arms. She laid her head against his broad chest and clutched his back, feeling the firm muscles under her fingers. She closed her eyes and breathed in his earthy, masculine scent. He felt so solid, so warm and safe. For just a second he made her feel like there really was hope.
They stood there holding each other, neither quite wanting to let go. But Luke finally pressed a kiss into her hair and reluctantly released her. “Tell Jenna I said, ‘Hi’, okay?”
Erin dropped her arms to her sides. “I will.” She glanced at the spot on his chest where her head had rested. She wanted to lay it there again and keep listening to the steady beat of his heart under her ear. She must be losing her mind.
“If you can wait until tomorrow, I’ll stop by and help you unload your things,” Luke offered. “I’d help later, but I have no idea when we’ll get this case wrapped up. I’m sure you and Jenna have a lot to catch up on today anyway.”
Erin nodded. “Thank you, Luke.”
“My pleasure.” He gazed into her eyes, and it was far more than pleasure he felt. His chest tightened with it. “Well, I suppose I’d better get this mess sorted out. I’ll call you later.” After a brief hesitation, he turned and headed back to his car. But he knew there was a part of him that would stay right there with her. It had always been that way.
Erin watched him thoughtfully as he left. She’d grown up in the same small town as Luke Mathis, but hadn’t really known him. And yet today she’d been with him for less than an hour and it felt like she’d known him forever.
She got into her car and leaned her head back against the seat to collect herself. So much had happened already, and she hadn’t even made it to New Dublin yet. She could only imagine what was in store for her there. But Jenna was there. It was time to go.
Chapter
4
Erin looked longingly at the cookie that was sitting on the tree stump. She was sure the girl with the curly red hair had put it there.
She peeked her head around a tree. The girl was there now, where she often was, sitting on a blanket in her yard, playing with her dolls. Except she was even closer to the woods now. It seemed like she got closer every time Erin came to watch her play. The girl had tried to talk to her before, but Erin would always get scared and run back into the woods.
Erin eyed the cookie again, and glanced back at the path that led to her grandparents’ house. Her grandmother wouldn’t know. She’d started her prayers upstairs in the room with the rocking chair. Erin didn’t know why she prayed up there, but she did it every day, and she stayed in there for a long time, sometimes until her grandfather came home from work at the factory. Erin was happy when she stayed in there.
Making up her mind, she quickly scooped up the cookie and stuffed it into her mouth.
“My momma says you shouldn’t eat that fast.”
Erin whipped her head around, green eyes wide with fright. The girl with the curly red hair was standing behind her.
“I’m Jenna,” the girl said with a smile. When Erin didn’t say anything back, she added, “We should be friends.”
Erin remained silent. She was too afraid to say anything, too afraid to move. And her mouth was full of cookie.
“My little brother died, so my momma’s sad and won’t play. Will you play with me?” the girl asked.
Erin stared at her, and the fear went away. She felt bad that the girl’s little brother died. She glanced back at the path again, then turned and nodded.
The girl grinned and took her hand. “Come with me. I’ll show you some baby robins. They’re in a tree behind the shed.”
Erin hesitated, but finally allowed the girl to lead her out of the woods and into the green grass beyond.
* * *
The little two-story house hadn’t changed much, Erin noted as she stood in the driveway regarding it. The wood siding was still bright yellow with white trim that matched the porch railing extending across the front of the house. And roses were in full bloom all around it: large, elegantly beautiful blossoms in shades of deep burgundy, yellow, and orange.
A moment later the front door opened and Jenna stepped out onto the porch, waving to her with that familiar smile.
Erin started walking toward her. And then she ran. Taking the side steps two at a time, she rushed into Jenna’s arms and they clung to each other wordlessly.
“Jen. Oh, Jen,” Erin finally managed in a broken whisper.
“It’s so good to have you here, Erin. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Jen. I’m so sorry.”
They continued to hold each other close, not wanting the moment to end. Erin wished she could hold back time forever.
Jenna eased away first, pulling some tissues from the pocket of her cardigan. “I knew we would need these.”
Erin took one and wiped her nose, sniffing back more tears. “I’ve been doing a lot of this the last two weeks.”
“There’s nothing wrong with shedding a few tears now and then. They’re good for the soul,” Jenna said. “While the length of one’s life is measured in years, the depth of the soul is measured in tears.”
Erin smiled. “Who did you get that from, Thoreau or Confucius?” Jenna was always quoting some philosopher or another, and those were two of her favorites. Erin was glad some things hadn’t changed.
Jenn
a laughed softly. “You give me too much credit. That’s just me—me and morphine, I suppose.”
Erin studied her. Jenna’s eyes were as bright a blue as ever, but there was a gauntness in her face that hadn’t been there before, and her skin had taken on a slightly grayish-yellow hue. Erin knew that look well—it was the distinct look of a cancer patient. And to see it on Jenna broke her heart. More tears fell, and she brushed them away with a half-hearted smile. “Here I go again. I guess I do have some depth to my soul after all.”
“Of course you do,” Jenna responded in a gently chiding tone. “You’ve just kept all those tears dammed up in there for too long. They needed to come out.”
“Well, damn them anyway,” Erin said wryly, then grasped Jenna’s hands in hers. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m doing okay. The pain’s gotten a little worse, so my doctor put me on some long-acting morphine, which has helped a lot. And I went in for an injection to strengthen my bones the other day. I was pretty worried about it after they gave me a handout that listed about a million side effects the drug can cause. But I haven’t had any problems so far, other than feeling a little more tired than normal.” She glanced over at a wooden cane she’d propped against the porch railing nearby. “I bought that in Ireland. It takes some of the pressure off my hip. I guess I get to experience what it feels like to be an old lady for a little while anyway.”
Erin didn’t hear any anger or resentment in her words. Jenna was accepting this as graciously as she had everything else in her life. “Oh, Jen,” she said desolately, unable to hold back her own tears.
Jenna hugged her again. “It’s okay, Erin. We’ll be okay. We have today, that’s all we can ask for. And what a beautiful day it is.” She leaned back and cupped Erin’s face in her hands. “‘You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.’ That is Thoreau.”
