No River Too Wide (26 page)

Read No River Too Wide Online

Authors: Emilie Richards

BOOK: No River Too Wide
3.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I tell myself that’s very unadventurous, but my dad was here, and Jeremy’s parents are here for the summers. I had a few good friends who could help, and I
needed
help with Maddie. I couldn’t have managed everything alone.”

“That’s not unadventurous, that’s smart.”

“The thing is, even if I could move now, I wouldn’t. This place is as much a part of me as the food I eat and the air I breathe. Actually it
is
those things, too. It’s just who I am.”

“And now you have your studio.”

“I’ll be here forever, I guess. Very different from your life. How many places have you lived?”

He took a moment to answer. “I’ve never counted. A lot, though. Some here, some overseas. And it depends on what you mean by lived. When I was in training, I moved from base to base, some stays longer than others.”

Taylor had read his résumé, so she knew that, like his own father, he had been in the air force until he was discharged last year. “What kind of training?”

“I started out in security forces and moved to combat rescue. I was in a number of different schools for that, on different bases. I’m not sure anyone would call what we did during training ‘living.’”

“Are you allowed to talk about what you did?”

“Jumped out of planes, swam underwater until we almost blacked out, learned mountaineering and land navigation skills, did extra work in weaponry, escape, evasion.” He glanced at her. “For starters.”

“I like physical challenges, but that sounds extreme.”

“It’s an extreme profession. I was never sure whether it was a piece of good or bad luck that I didn’t wash out right away. Or at least drown or break my neck trying not to.”

She wasn’t sure if he was kidding. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not bad. Tough. Vitally important, but tough. I did my part. Then I got out.”

By his tone she knew Adam was finished discussing that part of his life. “You said your father was in the air force, too?”

“He suggested I do something else when I told him I’d been accepted to the academy.”

“That must have been discouraging.”

His expression warmed, and he smiled. “You’re good at reflecting what I say, aren’t you? You know how to keep a conversation going.”

“You listened so well when I told you about my checkered past. I thought I would return the favor.”

Their gazes locked. His thoughts were impossible to read. She wondered what part of that was his training, which must have included learning not to give away information if captured.

“Dad had complete faith in me,” he said without breaking eye contact. “He just suggested I might want a real life. He said an intense man needed simpler days, that I would take becoming an officer to heart so completely I would live and breathe it 24/7. If I married, my wife would leave me inside of a year because she would quickly realize she wasn’t even a close second.”

“Harsh.”

He gave just the slightest shake of his head. “Insightful.”

“Did that happen? Did you marry and divorce in under a year?”

“I never got that far. I found women who were even more devoted than I was and wished them well when they took off for a new base or assignment.”

“Is that why you left?”

“There were lots of reasons, none of them very interesting. But that was one. I needed to ratchet down and find out how normal people live.”

“Any luck? I’ve wondered, too.”

“At least I was getting combat pay.” His gaze softened. “You weren’t.”

“Yeah, but I got Maddie.”

“And now you have adolescence ahead of you.”

“I’m practically an adolescent myself. I figure I’ll know what she’s thinking before she does.”

They both laughed; then he turned away to look at the view again. “Looks like you have some good help. Jan’s right there. You mentioned your dad and friends....”

“Jan’s a new addition, but I’m already wondering how I lived without her. Having somebody right in the house when I need her is so perfect.”

“You were lucky to find her.”

“She found me,” Taylor said without thinking, then realized she had said too much, starting with “Jan’s a new addition.”

“What, she came to the door and asked for a job?”

“No, she—” She considered but knew she had to say something quickly. “She’s the friend of a friend. She was starting over and needed a place to do it.” This was too close to the truth, but it was the best she could do on the spur of the moment.

“Starting over is tough. At her age, I’m guessing a bad marriage.”

“Bad,” she repeated, since saying nothing would confirm his suspicions and deepen them.

He stood and stretched. “I never would have guessed she’s not an old friend. I thought for sure she was, or maybe a relative. You get along so well.”

“We certainly do.” She stood, too. She’d just gotten a taste of what Jan and Harmony had to go through every day. Telling a version of the truth when possible, but never the whole truth. Pretending things were different than they were. And who knew if designing this spider’s web that could catch and trap them someday was for any good reason? Who knew where Harmony’s father was and if, indeed, he was even trying to find his wife or daughter?

“Ready to turn around?” he asked.

“We’d better if we want to get back before dark. I hope you’re still staying for dinner.”

“I’ll be starving after this.”

“Dinner will be one step above MREs, I’m sure, but maybe not what you’re used to. Black bean burgers.”

“This is probably the right moment to tell you I’m a vegetarian, too.”

That surprised her. “Honestly?”

“Have been for a couple of years. Too much heart disease in my family to risk red meat, although I love a good steak. It’s easier now that I’m a civilian. I eat seafood sometimes, but rarely.”

“And never shrimp on grits.”

He looked surprised. “You remember that?”

She wasn’t going to tell him she remembered everything he had ever said. How revealing was that? She couldn’t swear to the science, but she suspected a surge in hormones whenever she was with Adam did something to sharpen her memory.

“I’ll race you to the bottom.” She turned and started down, but at an amble, not a jog. The mountain path was nothing to fool with.

He was right behind her. “It’s nice being with a woman who likes physical activity. What do you like to do besides yoga and hiking?”

There really
was
something wrong with her. The only physical activity that leaped to mind was one she wasn’t about to discuss. “Just about everything,” she said, for lack of a better answer.

“How are you on a bike?”

“I used to teach a spinning class at the gym.”

“I mean a real bike. You know, fresh air, sunshine, real scenery?”

“A little rusty, but my bike’s not. I ride with Maddie, but for obvious reasons not very fast or far.”

“We could fix that next Sunday.”

Another date. She might not span the thousand-date gap very soon, but she was making headway. “Do you know any good bike trails?”

“Want me to ask around?”

“Sounds good.” And it did. Really good. Someone else in charge for a change. Somebody who liked to do the same things she did. Even somebody who ate the way she did.

She warned herself this was already too good to be true, but she couldn’t make herself believe it.

* * *

Adam grilled the burgers in Taylor’s backyard while she dressed a quinoa salad with the last of the summer’s peaches and handfuls of basil from her garden. They ate outside, even though the temperature was falling and both of them had to don an extra layer.

He drank beer, and she drank wine. During the second generous glass she realized she hadn’t thought of her daughter or her studio for more than an hour. Adam didn’t tell jokes or funny stories, but he had a wry sense of humor that surfaced just often enough to put her at ease. She thought his father had been right. Adam
was
intense, although most of the time he hid what he was thinking or feeling. She hadn’t gotten past the first layer, but she also thought there might be a slow unfolding as they grew to trust each other.

She was hopeful, because she thought she might like what she found.

Stars were visible in a dusky sky when they took everything inside. Jan would probably be home soon, and Maddie, too. Sunday night rituals would commence. Shampoo and the combing of tangles, which Maddie still liked her to do. Putting out clothes for the morning. Checking homework if Jeremy or his mother hadn’t already done so.

Finding out how Maddie felt about becoming a big sister.

Life as they all knew it, yet as Taylor walked Adam to the door she thought life suddenly felt different. Not because of Jeremy’s announcement about a baby. Not because Jan was living in the house now. Not even because Maddie was heading full throttle into adolescence.

Life was different because Adam was in it. For however long, at whatever pace, he had entered her life and changed it. She was no longer just someone’s mother.

“I had a nice afternoon,” he said at the threshold. “And dinner was great. Thank you for cooking for me.”

“You did some of the cooking.”

“I can flip burgers. I started my work life at McDonald’s.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad you went on to other things.”

“Like war and misery?”

“I’ll warn you, I march for peace whenever I think it’s required.”

“I fought for peace when it was required, or at least that was the hope.”

“So maybe we’re not that far apart?”

They weren’t far apart, as a matter of fact. They were standing together in the doorway, not an easy feat considering Adam’s size. She gazed up at him and wondered what would happen next.

He didn’t keep her in suspense. He rested his hand on her shoulder, lightly for such a wide, strong hand, and then he bent and kissed her. She leaned forward as naturally as if she’d already been on those thousand dates, and the kiss went quickly from casual and gentle to something more heated.

He finally took a step backward. “Good night.”

She smiled, although what she really wanted was to grab his soft blue shirt in her fist and kiss him again. “I’ll see you on Wednesday night at the studio.”

He smiled, too, and then he was gone.

She wondered what she would have done if he had asked for more than a simple—okay, not that simple—good-night kiss. Even as a teenager experimenting with sex, she had felt her brain fully engaged. She had known exactly what she was doing the night she and Jeremy made love, although she’d been woefully casual about potential consequences.

Now she was no teenager. She was a grown woman, a mother. And the moment Adam kissed her, her brain had turned to jelly. And the rest of her?

Molten lava.

Was it Adam? Was it years of denial?

Did she care?

She decided she didn’t. She went back into the house to wash dishes. Maybe, just maybe, she could become a totally devoted mother again before her daughter came home.

Or maybe not. And who knew which was better for both of them, anyway?

Chapter 21

From the audio journal of a forty-five-year-old woman, taped for the files of Moving On, an underground highway for abused women.

I can’t say I wasn’t warned how dangerous my situation was. At my next doctor’s appointment, when I confided the way my husband had reacted after the news from the ultrasound she gave me the number of a safe house. During my examination the Abuser paced the waiting room with our toddler son, unhappy they hadn’t been allowed to stay with me. When I emerged, the safe-house number committed to memory, he questioned me closely. What had I told the doctor about the fading bruise on my hip? Had she explained that pregnant women are often clumsy and that I should be more careful where I set my feet?

By then the truth of my situation was too hard to pretend away. Of course, he had been sorry after he kicked me. He hadn’t intended to shove me; that was an unfortunate accident. His intention had been to grab and steady me because I had looked as if I might faint. But the kick? Did I really believe he would kick me on purpose? That was an accident, too. He had leaped to my side and simply misjudged, for which he apologized. Maybe pregnancy made men clumsy, too, he’d added, as if the whole episode was part of a stand-up comic’s routine.

In my own defense, I wasn’t fooled. Whenever the Abuser made what sounded like a sincere apology, I still remained absurdly hopeful. But each time he lied and expected me to believe his words, I grew more discouraged. How could a man change if he couldn’t admit he needed to? If he couldn’t see that hurting me was wrong, would he ever ask for help in controlling his temper?

The doctor had pointed out that men who abuse their wives are likely to abuse their children, too. Even if they don’t, the child who observes abuse may learn to believe it’s acceptable, even expected. Was that what I wanted for myself and my baby? Or how about the little boy in the waiting room who might grow up to identify with his abusive father?

That day the Abuser dropped us at home and went back to work, and I spent the rest of the afternoon silently repeating the doctor’s question as I changed diapers and read storybooks to my sweet little boy. That evening when my husband came home, he had two bags filled with gifts for our baby. Pretty, frilly pink gifts. Yes, he admitted, he had wanted another son. But if our baby girl was anything like her mother, then he would love her as much as he loved me. What man wouldn’t count himself lucky to have two beautiful females in his life?

* * *

Adam went to bed late and woke early. If the familiar nightmare had visited, he didn’t remember, which was fine with him. He had fallen asleep thinking about Taylor, and after waking, he lay, arms folded under his head on the lumpy pillow that had seen one too many renters, thinking about his reasons for being in Asheville.

Danger came in many forms. He was familiar with most of them and eternally wary. So it was no surprise that all his senses were on alert. Physical security wasn’t the issue. Nobody here wanted to hurt him; nobody was going to leap out from behind a bush and mow him down with an M-4 carbine. He was in Asheville to do a job, a job on which he had made significant progress.

Other books

Candy at Last by Candy Spelling
The New Noah by Gerald Durrell
Kilting Me Softly: 1 by Persephone Jones
True Love Ways by Sally Quilford
A Rip in the Veil by Anna Belfrage