The Edge of Recall (34 page)

“Staying out there in the rain. Not warning you soon enough. Running away when I thought you were dead.” Her elation fled as she recalled the rain pooling in his eyes.

“You came back.”

She squeezed his hand harder. “I wouldn’t have gone if I’d known. I was just so scared.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“Nothing scares you.”

“How can you say that?”

He fumbled with the sidebar, then seemingly exhausted, he frowned. “Put it down, will you?”

She maneuvered the bar to its below-the-mattress position.

“Come sit.”

She climbed onto the bed, concerned. “Bair told me you were doing better.”

“Bair told me you were in jail.”

“The sheriff thought I tried to kill you.”

“That comes from not telling the truth.”

“He wouldn’t listen when I did tell the truth. And then he thought I got mad about Danae and stabbed you.”

Smith frowned. “Were you upset Danae came?”

Did he really wonder? “Not enough to kill you.”

Smith took her hand between his. “Tess … I don’t want to deceive you.”

Her defenses went on high alert, her heart pounding as she prepared herself to hear
Sorry, but we’re getting back together.
That expectation had led to her cracking open and seeing herself as she was. Smith had seen it long before that. He must have been so frustrated, coming out to the field to tell her his decision and finding her in an emotional-spiritual crisis. No wonder he’d wanted to go inside where she wouldn’t run off in another storm. What a case he must think her.

“Danae kissed me, Tess. I should have stopped her, but I didn’t.”

Her thoughts stalled, then caught back up. “Didn’t … want to?”

“I think I wanted her to
want
to kiss me. I should have stepped back, but my bruised ego took it as … as affirmation.”

She searched his face, unsure where this was going.

“Don’t ask me why I needed any sort of affirmation from her; I can’t tell you.”

Now she was confused. “Because you love her?”

He sank back. “It’s not like that.” He didn’t say what it was like, or that he didn’t love her. His throat worked. “Please believe it has nothing to do with you.”

That she could easily believe. What was unbelievable was that he’d expressed feelings for her in the first place. “I understand.”

“I’m fairly certain you don’t.” He closed his eyes and gathered himself. “I know I’m risking my chance with you, but I didn’t want this between us.”

“The kiss, or your feelings for Danae?”

“I don’t have feelings for her.” He drew a boggy breath. “I have … residue.”

She understood residue. Hers had become sediment.

“It’s not as much about her as it is about me.”

“I get it. Bair said you weren’t ready. I know how hard it is to let go, believe me. I’ve had—’’

“Tess. Don’t jump to conclusions.” He closed his eyes, clearly worn out by their exchange. “I don’t want this to change what we have.”

“What do we have?”

He opened his eyes with an effort. “A chance to try again.”

Tears stung. Maybe he meant that, but could she risk it? He had wounded her before, with less between them than now. Bair’s warning might be the truest thing she’d heard. “You need to sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake?”

She swallowed the lump invading her throat. “I don’t know.”

Pain washed over his features as she turned and went out, but it could have been the medication wearing off. There was no medication for hers. She met Bair in the hall, toting a clear package of scones and a thermos that probably contained tea.

He startled. “You’re out.”

Had he thought she’d be locked up for good?

“On bail or …”

“They didn’t arrest me.”

Bair looked from her to Smith’s door.

“He’s asleep,” she said.

“Oh. Would you, um, like one?”

In spite of the hurt descending like fog, she was hungry. “Yes. Thanks.”

“Want to step outside?”

“Sure.” She needed to get out, away from the turmoil, away from Smith.

They perched on a bench in the sunshine. Bair handed her a scone, then the thermos cup filled with tea.

“Thanks.”

He readjusted his position. “I, um, hope you don’t blame me too much.”

“I don’t blame you at all. Sheriff Thomas wanted a scapegoat. I fit the model.”

“I should’ve … kept quiet about … you and Smith.”

“Really, Bair. It didn’t make much difference. He’d made up his mind when I first went to him. In his opinion I had more motive than some malformed stranger who might not even exist.”

“So … you’re all right?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“He didn’t hurt you.”

“Smith?”

Bair’s eyes took on a knowing look. “I meant the one who stabbed Smith.”

“Oh. Some bruises and sore muscles. He didn’t want to hurt me. I believe that.”

“What happened out there, Tessa?”

She swallowed a bite of scone and washed it down with a sip of tea. “There’s a cistern under the labyrinth. We found the disk that covers its mouth. He’d been living there since he was only a boy.”

“He?”

“Donny.”

“The bloke who stabbed Smith.”

She nodded. “But it was self-defense. He’s … It’s hard to describe how awful he looks. He thought if people saw him they’d hurt him. It’s happened before.”

“So now you’re free, and he’s in custody?”

“He’s with Dr. Brenner. For evaluation. I don’t think he’ll find him dangerous.”

“In spite of the fact he tried to kill Smith.”

Frowning, she brushed a crumb from her leg. “He didn’t intend to kill Smith. He struck in fear. I understand that.”

“Does Smith?”

“I think so.”

“I’m not sure that makes it right.”

She turned. “It isn’t right, Bair. Lots of things aren’t. What matters is how we move forward.” Donny was not the monster. As much as she dreaded it, she still had to find out who was.

“And you and Smith?”

She lowered her gaze. “You were right. He isn’t over Danae.”

Bair flushed. “Would you … consider someone else?”

“I’m sorry, Bair.” Tears glazed her eyes. “I’m not over him.”

With the hood of the poncho pulled low over his face, Donny hunched in the seat beside the airplane window and stared out, fascinated by the world far beneath him and reluctant to view the world close around him. Dr. Brenner had the next seat, and they were joined at the wrist by handcuffs. He had agreed because the sheriff would not let them leave without them, and Dr. Brenner said it was necessary. He had no choice, no choice, and if he thought about it, fear came up inside him like the well before it stopped rising.

“Would you like a drink, Donny? Juice or soda?” Dr. Brenner talked in a soft, slow voice, the kind of voice you’d use to make a rabbit come closer, closer until you snatched and broke its neck. Donny stayed still and stared out the window. It was all white now, clouds, clouds, clouds. Only clouds, and it made him dizzy not to see the ground, even though it was so far away.

“Would you like to read?”

Donny perked up. “Read what?”

“There are magazines in the pouch beside your chair, or I have a journal about some behavioral studies being conducted on dolphins. Those are—”

“I know what they are. I know all about dolphins.”

“I’m interested in what you know.”

Donny didn’t turn. “Dolphins sleep with half their brain at a time. They hunt and navigate with echolocation and communicate with very high-pitched squeals and whistles and whines. They form bonds that last their whole lives and carry their sick or dying pod members. But some strong dolphins bully weaker ones.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Donny stared into the white, endless white, outside his window. “I’ll have the journal now.” When he didn’t turn from the window, Dr. Brenner slipped the book into his lap. Donny covered it with his free hand and propped it between himself and the window. Reading calmed him enough that he stopped thinking about his place, his place and Tessa and his things, for whole pieces of time.

Smith sighed. He shouldn’t have told her. He was trying so hard to build their relationship with honesty and integrity that he didn’t know when to keep quiet about things that would hurt. How had he thought she would understand when he didn’t?

He regretted that kiss and wanted Tessa to know, yet he couldn’t put the blame on Danae. He had tried to describe his confusion, his reluctance to make the same mistakes. That had been his intention, but he knew what she’d heard. Rejection.

He’d wanted her to know he didn’t take it lightly that Danae still had a hold on him. He cared enough to tell the truth, trusting her to bear with him. Who was he fooling? Even an optimistic woman would have trouble with that.

Tessa had proven herself courageous and resourceful, strong and capable in a terrifying situation. But this was a matter of the heart, and she guarded hers ferociously. What small impact he’d made was surely compromised.

He sank into the weariness with a weight that had less to do with his injury than hers. Why had he thought honesty the best policy? They’d been through an ordeal, and he could have used it to sweep Danae’s kiss clean away. Instead he had followed the nudge of his conscience with Tess after he’d ignored it altogether with Danae. Wasn’t that the difference between who he’d been before and the man he was trying to be now? Making Tessa see that was something else altogether.

Sleep overcame him until he heard hushed voices.

“Sheriff Thomas kept making everything I said sound like … something else.”

“It’s all right, Bair.”

“Except you spent a night in jail.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Smith should let them know he was awake, but he couldn’t open his eyes. Would every waking be worse than the last?

“Having shared the experience, I’d have to disagree.”

Bair didn’t reveal that to very many.

“You were in jail?”

“Assault and battery. Not proud of it. Not proud of a lot of things.”

Then why the confessional?

“Like the matter of my son.”

“Your … Really, Bair? You have a son?”

“Three years old next month.”

Was he trying to win her sympathy? Maybe not purposely. Something about Tessa invited full disclosure whether you intended it or not. Still, Bair was normally reticent when sober.

“Do you get to see him?”

“I suppose I could, since I send support. But I didn’t know his mum. It was one of those … bad decisions that seemed brilliant to me and Johnnie Walker.”

Tessa made a sympathetic sound. “I was afraid you’d start drinking again so you could talk to Katy.”

“No, she pretty much did the talking. Everything she expected, only she phrased it prettier. ‘Wouldn’t you love to do this; why don’t we have that.’ ” Bair’s voice leapt to a falsetto and Tessa laughed. Tessa laughing was a good thing. But laughing with Bair?

“Tell the truth. Aren’t you glad she’s home?”

“I suppose it’s best.”

“I don’t think she appreciated you.”

“Now, when you say things like that …”

Smith opened his eyes and coughed hard and violently. The pain was like being stabbed again, with a knife to both lungs. Tessa and Bair jumped to his side. He hated being ill and injured and not knowing where he stood. It hurt more than his pride to see them side by side, yet he’d done it to himself. Gripping the bedrails, he left off coughing and wheezed.

“Do you need the nurse?” Bair reached for the call button.

Smith rocked his head side to side on the pillow. It took too much energy to lift it—a fact that annoyed him to no end.

“Smith?” Tessa’s eyes held true concern. “Are you in pain?”

“Only when I cough.” Or breathe. Or think. He wanted to touch her but didn’t.

Bair cocked his head. “You look knackered.”

He was. Completely worn out, though he’d done little besides sleep.

Tessa touched the side of his face with the back of her fingers. “You’re burning up.”

He pressed his head against her hand, wanting her to keep it there.

“Call the nurse, Bair.”

He hadn’t thought of Tessa as nurturing, only needing. How many other things had he missed that he might now have no opportunity to learn? She hadn’t deserted him yet, wouldn’t bail on the project, but he might be the one watching her bond with Bair. Not the best thought he’d had in a while.