In the Line of Fire (12 page)

“Yes. I talked to her about it. Once a week she invited me out to dinner. The first week we went to a Mexican restaurant where a mariachi band walked around from table to table playing. The next week it was Italian food. I forget the particular lineup after that but we covered Indian, Thai, Chinese, Irish and she even found a little German deli. Oh, yeah, and there was a Vietnamese restaurant and a Jewish deli. That was her solution to me wanting to live somewhere else.”

Damn. Colton didn't quite know what to say. He knew firsthand what Rion had gone through with his mother when he'd made the decision to join the military. It hadn't been pretty. Daisy had disintegrated all over again. Rion's love for his family had been questioned numerous times. He'd repeatedly assured his mother he loved her but wouldn't have his life dictated by her.

Colton knew without a doubt it would be much worse on Andi because she was female. He wasn't sexist, but he knew how her mother thought. But Andi had the right to live her life the way she wanted to.

In his own way he had played into Daisy's control because Colton had been very much aware if he and Andi had any kind of future it would cause a horrible rift between her and her mother.

He said the only thing he knew to say. “Our parents have all had their own lives to live. They made their
own choices. You know, when we're children it's their job to guide us, but once we're adults, our lives are our own to live.”

Their waitress returned with laden plates. “Y'all need anything else right now?”

Neither of them did and she left them alone once again. Andi shrugged self-consciously. “Sorry. I didn't mean for that to turn into a dumpfest.”

“That wasn't a dumpfest. That's what you call a real conversation between two friends. We grew up together. I spent half my childhood and adolescence at your house. I know your mother. If you can't talk to me about this, then who can you talk to? I just wish there was something I could do.”

Her smile tore at his heart. “The doing's all on me.” She drew a deep breath. “When we get back I'm telling her I'm not staying. She's already going to be upset with me so I might as well get it all out at once. And I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm scared to death she's going to have another breakdown, but I can't continue to live my life for her.” She cut her steak into bite-size pieces.

“It'll be tough for a while but she still loves Rion, doesn't she? She'll still love you when the dust settles. And you know my mother will be there for her.”

“But she'll hate you.” She seemed to catch herself, as if she hadn't meant to be so blunt. “Sorry, but she's resented you ever since you and Rion left home.”

He shrugged. “That's nothing I haven't known.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Maybe I should wait a couple of weeks or even months until after you leave to bring it up. Otherwise she'll definitely blame you for this.”

He was shaking his head before the last word left her mouth. He'd stand in the line of fire for her any day. “No. If you're sure, then move forward with your plans. Where do you think you want to go?”

“I've always been intrigued by Boston and New York. I know they're both wickedly expensive but if I'm going to go for it, I'm going to really go for it. I'll need to research the cost of living in several places before I decide.” She shook her head. “I know I won't be staying at home long, though. I'll move back out temporarily until I decide.”

“I can help you gather statistics on Boston and New York. I'm good at research.”

Much as she had with Rion, Daisy would want someone to blame other than her child, and once again, it would be Colton. When all of this was said and done, Daisy Mitchell would forever hate him.

 

W
HEN THE KNOCK SOUNDED
on the back door, Martha Anne put her issue of
Southern Living
on the end table and took off her reading glass. It had to be Daisy. Anyone else who came calling on a Sunday evening would go to the front door.

There'd been a time, when they'd first moved into the neighborhood in the early eighties, when she'd
never locked her back door, but not now. Those days were long gone. She checked the curtain over the half-window. Sure enough Daisy stood on the other side. Martha Anne unlocked the door and invited her in.

When she came into the house it was apparent she'd been crying. Red rimmed her eyes and her nose was swollen. She clutched a tissue in her hand.

Closing the back door behind her, panic threatened Martha Anne. “What's the matter? What's wrong?”

“I'm worried sick, that's what's wrong,” Daisy said.

Her panic subsided. If it was something truly horrible, Daisy would've blurted it out. Martha Anne put her arm around Daisy's shoulders and led her into the den, to the love seat. She settled her friend there and took a seat in the opposite chair. “Over what? What are you worried sick over?”

“I haven't heard from Andi all day and she's not answering her cell phone.”

This she could handle. It was simply more of Daisy's neurosis. “I'm sure she's fine.”

Miserable, Daisy shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. “I'm sure she's not.”

“Why in the world would you think that?”

She looked at Martha Anne as if she were missing what was painfully obvious. “It's been more than twenty-four hours since I heard from her.”

Andi had made it clear on the phone when they'd
spoken yesterday that she needed some time away. “That's because she's taking a little vacation and that includes a vacation from you, from all of us.”

“But she's never—”

Martha Anne cut her off, knowing precisely where she was going with this. “She's never had the chance, has she? When Mattie moved out, sometimes we only talked once a week,” Martha Anne pointed out. “She was busy with her life and I was busy with mine. That's the way it's supposed to be with our children who've all grown up now. They have their own lives.”

“What if they had an accident?”

She knew exactly what was driving Daisy's obsessive worry. She didn't need a psychology degree to know her experience with losing Gerald the way she had was driving this now, had been driving it for years, but Daisy had to get a grip. Martha Anne tried laying out the circumstances as logically as she could. “There's not a doubt in my mind they've not had an accident but, on the extremely rare chance they did, if Colton was even semiconscious he would contact me. If he was unconscious then either the police or the hospital would've called by now since the registration and insurance papers in the glove box list this address and my phone number is attached to this address.”

She quit wringing her hands in her lap. “You really think they're okay?”

“I'm sure they're okay.”

“But when Gerald—”

Exasperation warred with sympathy inside her. “Daisy, I know that was hard. It was hard for me to lose Allen and I wasn't left with two small children to raise alone, mine were older, so I can't imagine what that was like. But you have got to come to grips.”

Daisy tightened her lips. “When I do hear from her, I'm going to let her know what I think of her worrying me this way. I've been frantic this afternoon.”

It was time to be blunt. “And that's not Andi's fault, that's your fault. You're the one who chooses to worry. It's a choice you're making. Give your daughter some room to live her life.”

“I want her to be happy, but I want her to be safe.”

“Of course you do, we all want that for our children. But right up under you doesn't necessarily mean she's safe. She's taking a couple of days away to get her head together.”

“I don't want to be this way, Martha Anne, I just can't seem to help it.”

Martha Anne believed her. It was as if Daisy's neurotic side took over and stripped away all rationale. “I'm only telling you this because you're my friend and I love you but instead of getting better, you're getting worse.” It was like looking at someone you saw every day. She hadn't really paid attention to the fact Daisy was gradually getting worse and worse. But it was apparent. And even if it impacted their
friendship, she had to say what she was about to say. “I think you need to see a therapist.”

Daisy whipped her head up. “What? So someone can poke around in my life and my brain?” She crossed her arms over her chest, a mutinous look on her face.

Martha Anne went and sat on the love seat next to her friend. “No, so someone can help you work through this.” She put her arm around Daisy's shoulder and squeezed. “Do you really think you're the only person with this issue? Of course you're not. A therapist can help you put practical coping mechanisms into place.”

Daisy teared up and rested her head in her hands. “I want my children to love me.”

“They do love you, but they don't have to be glued to your side to love you, Daisy. I can ask around at school for the name of a good therapist.” She cut her friend off at the pass before she could even give it voice. “And no one needs to know who it's for or what it's about.”

For the longest few seconds, Daisy simply sat there, obviously weighing her choices. Finally she nodded. “Would you come with me? Just to the first appointment?”

“Of course I will. That's what friends are for.”

“Y
'ALL TAKE CARE AND
don't forget to drop us a note now and then to let us know how you're doing,” Vernette yelled, as they backed out and pulled away from The Daisy Inn late Monday morning.

“Will do,” Andi yelled back as they made a left-hand turn to access the interstate. She felt oddly nostalgic leaving the quaint inn and the couple who were obviously still in love and devoted to one another after more than fifty years together. When she looked at Vernette and Burt Pickle it made her ache inside because that's what she wanted with Colton. She'd started this thinking being with him would help her get over him but she was more than aware there'd never be any getting over Colton. She'd realized she was a one-man woman and that man was Major Colton Sawyer.

“Now exactly how is that going to work?” Colton asked, quirking an eyebrow in her direction.

Sometimes Major Logical Reasoning totally missed things. “She gave me their address.”

“I know how the writing a note works.” He all but rolled his eyes at her. Lucky for him she found him endearing. “I mean they think we're married.”

Andi shrugged. “So, I'll update them on you and update them on me and they don't have to know we're not together. It's sort of funny how so many people have assumed we're married on this trip.” Too bad he didn't seem to be taking the hint. Didn't he realize by now they belonged together?

“I think we can safely assume it's the big white dress hanging in the backseat and the rock on your finger that's giving that impression.”

Apparently not. But she refused to give up. Andi was not a quitter so instead of bonking him on the head the way she wanted to—not to mention that wasn't safe when he was the one driving—she grinned and offered him information he could relate to: the logic behind her still wearing her engagement ring. “The safest place for this rock, as you put it, until I can return it to Blanton, is on my finger. He wasn't cheap and I don't want to lose it and have to buy it off him. That'd put a major dent in my savings. And maybe the ring and dress have a smidgen to do with it but I think it's the way you gaze at me all starry-eyed.” Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Major.

“And here I thought it was you who was gazing at me all starry-eyed.”

This was yet another memory in the making. She didn't think he'd ever actually flirted with her before. “In your dreams, Major.”

“Backatcha.”

“Seriously—”

“I thought you were being serious.”

She couldn't seem to help herself. She had to ask. “Do you ever think about getting married?”

“No.” She wished she hadn't asked. “The military is hard on families. I knew that going in. I can volunteer for assignments and know if things go wrong, I'm not leaving a family behind without a husband or father.”

“But what if you care for someone and they care for you? Does it hurt any less to lose you if you're not married than if you are?”

“Yes, it does. If you care for someone, you simply care for them. Being married involves plans for the future and all of that dies with that person.” She shuddered. “Sorry, Andi, but death and dealing with death are part of the realities of a soldier in wartime. It's a very real part of my world, your brother's world.”

The sun was suddenly less bright. She felt like crying. The thought of anything happening to Colton or Rion was nearly unbearable. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it before but somehow it seemed so much more real and tangible now that he'd brought it out onto the table, now that she was sitting next to him, now that they'd made love. “I get that. I'm sorry
I brought it up. This is your leave and I'm sure that's not what you want to think about or talk about.”

“Andi, it's like I told you over dinner last night, we'll talk about whatever you want to talk about or need to talk about.”

She didn't want to talk about him not wanting to tie anyone to him and she certainly didn't want to talk about losing either him or her brother. She determinedly changed the subject, having had lots of practice with her mother on keeping things on an even keel. “Okay, then let's talk about what we want to do when we get to Gatlinburg.” When it came right down to it, she didn't know what kind of stuff he liked to do. Did they like the same things? What was his idea of a good time? Well, she knew both their idea of a good time in the bedroom but…

“Give me the rundown on our choices once we get there.”

She thought back to things she'd heard about the area over the years. “Let's see, there's hiking, horseback riding, although I'm a little saddle sore so I'd rather skip that, there's lots of shops and restaurants, and there are even a few wedding chapels—”

“Wedding chapels?” Colton laughed. “Do they supply the groom? 'Cause I'm going to be waiting outside the bathroom window again.”

Ouch. She'd thrown that in there because she couldn't seem to help herself today. And he'd just made it abundantly clear he had no intention of being
the groom. She forced a smile through her hurt. “It would make a good story. I've got the dress. How many women could say they ditched two weddings in one week?”

“With different grooms nonetheless.”

“That'd certainly be different if the same guy showed up to be stood up twice.”

“He'd need his head examined.”

She agreed although stranger things had happened. “Hey, you hear about people all the time who marry, divorce and marry again.”

Colton shook his head. “That's just weird. You either work it out or you don't. You're wedding obsessed.”

No, she wasn't. She was Colton Sawyer obsessed but he could think what he wanted. Andi laughed. “It's the dress in the backseat. I'm just teasing you. We'll strike the wedding chapel. No horseback riding and no weddings.”

“Aiding and abetting you in one escape per week is plenty.”

She realized how content she was to be driving along the expressway with him, having this inane conversation. “A good accomplice is a rare commodity.”

“Hey, I'm driving now, aren't I? Are we not on the road to Gatlinburg, the ultimate destination in this Grand Adventure of yours?”

The idea struck her that it wasn't a matter of the
destination that made it a Grand Adventure. It was all about the journey. “Just how attached are you to the idea of going to Gatlinburg?” she asked him.

He slanted a questioning look her way. “I'm only attached in the sense that you wanted a Grand Adventure and that's where you said you wanted to go.”

“Well, I did want a Grand Adventure and this has been but a couple of things have changed. I'm not going to stay in Savannah now so that sort of makes a difference. And the other, which is really the biggie, is when I decided I wanted to go to Gatlinburg, spending time in bed with you wasn't a viable option. Now that it is, spending all these hours in the car driving when we could be spending all these hours in the bed before we have to go back, well, it just seems like a waste.”

“Let me get this straight, you don't want to go to Gatlinburg because you don't want to spend the drive time when we could be in bed together?”

There was no point in being less than honest about it. They didn't have time to waste. “Yeah. We've only got a couple of days. You're leaving Friday. I don't want to waste that time. What do you think?”

He grinned. “I think that's a good answer. So, where do you want to go?”

“I sort of have a soft spot for that room at The Daisy. And it's not that far to drive back to Savannah from there, unless you're concerned the tires might get ripped off again.”

“No, it's probably one of the safest places to park now. Those kids won't show up again anytime soon. Burt and Vernette would be thrilled. Let's see, driving several more hours and then driving back on Wednesday or spending that time horizontal with you? That's a tough call.” He pretended to ponder the situation. “Andi, I'm fine with The Daisy if you're sure you don't want to go to Gatlinburg.”

He might not want her for forever, but it was reassuring that he wanted as much of her as possible until he left on Friday. “I'm positive. And I hope you don't think I'm a flake—first running out on a wedding and now changing my mind about this, but sometimes you just have to adapt as the situation changes.”

“I don't think you're a flake. There's one thing you learn early on and that's the situation dictates. You have to have a plan but when the circumstances or situation changes you have to be able to adapt your plans to those changes. And I understand you climbing out that window.”

She had the oddest sense he did, simply because he knew her family better than anyone else did. “Do you really?”

“Yeah, I understand what you were up against.”

She knew he was referring to her mother. It was great to be with someone who “got” her, who understood where she was coming from. She pointed to the green interstate sign slightly ahead. “There's an exit in a mile and a half. We can turn around there.”

 

T
HURSDAY MORNING
Colton awoke instantly, the result of years of military conditioning where a drowsy state could mean a dead state. Andi was curled up next to him, her head on his right arm, his left wrapped around her. That was the way she liked to sleep.

He was used to sleeping alone and unused to sharing a bed with anyone. He had adapted to it quickly though. He liked waking up to her hair tickling his face, her buttocks pressed against his crotch, her breasts beneath his forearm and hand.

She was an even more amazing woman than he'd ever realized. It was as if they'd crammed weeks of dating and sex into the few days available to them. They'd fallen into the routine of making love first thing in the morning and then setting out to explore the surrounding area. They'd checked out two antiques stores in the neighboring town, afterward sitting in the park eating ice cream from a small, old-fashioned soda shop. Andi's favorite ice-cream choice was vanilla with hot chocolate sauce on top, complete with whipped cream and a cherry. One afternoon they'd gone to the local Cineplex where they'd shared hot buttered popcorn, a drink and the latest suspense release. And then yesterday the bottom had fallen out and it had rained like hell all day. They'd called a local pizza-delivery joint and spent the day in bed eating pizza, reading, talking and making love.

Over the course of the past few days they'd logged hours talking. They'd discovered they both believed
in ghosts, though neither felt any ghostly presence at The Daisy. Andi had a real grasp on politics and current events. They'd covered the gamut of everything from immigration to educational policies.

They didn't always agree but she was wellinformed and she wasn't intractable, two qualities he admired. She wasn't shy about embracing an opposing view and he had to admire that, as well. He relished a discussion where his opinion was challenged yet respected.

One of the things he'd never realized over the years was just how smart and well-rounded Andi was. And she was damn fun. He hadn't realized just how much spontaneity was missing from his life. An impromptu road trip simply wasn't in his repertoire.

He looked at her in the bed next to him. Tomorrow morning they'd wake up in separate beds, separate houses. This was the last time he'd be privy to having her in his bed, her hair splayed out over the pillow, her hand tucked beneath the curve of her cheek.

Yes, it had been a helluva week. She could play a mean hand of poker and last, but definitely not least, they were incredibly sexually compatible. The edible panties were gone. The fur-covered handcuffs had been tried out, amidst much laughter, and they'd each cashed in a few of the naughty coupons Vernette had included in their basket.

Leaving Andi to go back—hell, leaving Andi period—was going to be one of the hardest things he'd
ever done. No, make that the single hardest thing he'd ever done. But one of Colton's father's favorite sayings, picked up from
his
father, had always been
the right thing to do isn't always the easy thing to do
.

So, while walking away from her, leaving her free to move on with her life wasn't the easy thing to do, it was the right thing to do. She'd made a huge decision in deciding to move away from Savannah and see some of the world. He had a feeling her artistic endeavors were going to blossom wherever she wound up, whether it was Boston or New York. He didn't think it would be particularly easy for her, but his Andi had grit and determination in spades, otherwise she'd have never survived all these years with Daisy and she'd have never climbed out that window in the first damn place.

She stirred next to him, blinking her eyes open, a lazy just-waking-up smile curving her lips and lighting her eyes. He loved the way she looked at him, as if his presence alone was enough to make her happy. He loved it, but it simultaneously scared the hell out of him. He'd seen firsthand what losing Gerald had done to Daisy, how his father's heart attack and subsequent death had affected his mother, and then the men who'd been lost to war and left behind widows and fatherless children. He pushed aside the melancholy thought and brought himself firmly back to the here and now.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” He smoothed her hair back from her cheek.

She reached up and caught his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips to press a kiss to his fingers. “Good morning.”

From that moment, they moved into the silent dance which had become their morning lovemaking. Today, this morning, however, they were both aware that this was their last time together. They'd return to Savannah. Tomorrow he'd be headed back to his assignment.

Colton was nearly desperate as he rolled her to her belly and kissed his way down her neck, the indent of her spine, the curve of her back, the flare of her hips, the sensitive backs of her knees, even the delicate lines of her ankles. The texture of her skin, her taste against his tongue, her scent, the mapping of the curves and undulations of her body—these were all things his logical mind sought to commit to memory for the impending time when memory would have to suffice. These alone would have to be enough in the upcoming weeks, months and years. It would have to be enough that Andi had been his for this short period of time and he would forever carry with him this intimate knowledge of her.