His Ordinary Life (16 page)

With wind ruffling her auburn hair and worry lines marring her smooth forehead, Darlene Kincaid met Barbara on the front walk and enfolded her in a strong hug. “Oh, Barb, I’m so sorry.” She pulled back to look into Barbara’s face. “How’s Blake?”

“Jay says he’s doing great.” She could carry on a normal conversation, but how she managed it was beyond her comprehension, with fear overflowing her body. “They’re going to move him into a regular room in the morning.”

“That’s wonderful.” Darlene squeezed her arm and led her toward the house. “The girls are in the kitchen with your sister-in-law. I made some of those ready-bake chocolate chip cookies and Tori’s talking to them. She’s really good with kids, isn’t she?”

Barbara nodded, fighting the urge to tear into the house, gather up her children and flee with them to somewhere safe. Although if even their own home wasn’t safe, she couldn’t think of a place that was. The dark apprehension pressed in from all sides until she thought she’d suffocate. She closed her eyes for a moment, reliving those precious seconds when she hadn’t had to be strong, when she’d gone into Del’s arms and turned the horror over to him. If she concentrated hard enough, she could experience the solidity of his chest, hot and hard, against her cheek.

“You’re not okay, are you?” Darlene’s sympathetic voice pulled her from the memory.

Barbara’s eyes snapped open and she shook her head, looking at Darlene holding the front door open. “I’m fine. I was just…I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”

Darlene nodded. “I know what you mean. When John and I lived in Atlanta, someone broke in our apartment. For weeks afterward, I kept seeing things out of the corner of my eye, sure he’d come back.” With one of her special, soft smiles, she reached for Barbara’s hand and pulled her into the foyer. “You just have to give it some time. The bad memories will go away.”

The memories didn’t worry her. The reality of what lay ahead scared her witless. With the comforting smell of Darlene’s vanilla potpourri and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies around her, the dread remained like a living thing, pulsing, growing larger with every second and every what-if. Again, she longed for the strength of Del’s tight embrace.

Darlene squeezed her hand and let go. “I have a couple of calls to return. That should give you some time alone with the girls. Stay as long as you like.”

Barbara smiled at her, a tight expression that died a swift death. “Thank you.”

Heels clicking a soft staccato against the parquet floor, Darlene left her alone in the foyer. Lyssa’s soft voice filtered into the hallway leading to the kitchen. The same dark panic Barbara battled lingered in Lyssa’s tone, and Barbara pulled in a deep breath. Her daughters needed a strong, capable mother. Holding her stomach tight to quell her jumping nerves, Barbara walked to the kitchen doorway and stopped in the square of light spilling into the dim hall.

Tori shared the wrought-iron kitchen table with Lyssa and Anna, a plate of cookies and tall glasses of milk before them. Lyssa perched on her chair, knees hugged to her chest. Anna sat with one foot under her. They looked so ordinary, so unhurt, and tears of relief stung Barbara’s eyes.

“Mama!” Anna scrambled from her chair and flung herself into Barbara’s waiting embrace. Lyssa wasn’t far behind, and Barbara held them close, aware of the fine tremors shaking their slender bodies. She pressed fierce kisses to their temples and tightened her hug.

Lyssa pulled away first, tossing back her hair. “Someone broke into our room! Did you see?”

“I saw.” Barbara kept an arm around Anna, who remained close to her side, arms wrapped around Barbara’s waist. Beneath the apprehension, excitement glimmered in Lyssa’s chocolate gaze. Barbara shook her head. If that look was anything to go by, Lyssa was already planning the story she’d share with her friends as soon as she got near a phone.

Anna huddled closer. “Mama,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and choked with unshed tears, “my name was on the wall. Things he wanted me to do.”

“I know. I’m sorry you had to see that.” Anger flashed along Barbara’s veins. She stroked Anna’s hair and understood people who killed or injured others in fury and revenge. She wanted the animal who’d injured her son, who’d terrified her daughters to feel this level of fear and frustration.

Over Anna’s head, she looked at Tori. Her sister-in-law had risen to her feet and stood watching, hands tucked in the back pockets of her jeans. Barbara smiled. “Thank you for coming and staying with them.”

Tori shook her head, compassion glowing in her eyes. “Of course. I’m sorry all this is happening, Barb.”

“Thanks.” Barbara glanced at the thin scar under Tori’s jaw and held Anna tighter. The long pale line was a reminder of Tori’s suffering at the hands of a rapist. A shudder ran through Barbara with the recollection of Tori’s bruised, battered face. More than frightening them, was that what tonight’s intruder planned for her daughter?

No. He just wanted them afraid, terrorized. Tori’s attack had come out of nowhere, without any warning, although they’d learned later the man had followed her for months, memorizing her routines, her vulnerabilities. Barbara shivered. What did the intruder know about them? How long had he watched them?

“Where’s Daddy?” Anna asked, muffled against Barbara’s shoulder.

“Still with your Uncle Tick.”

“He can’t leave yet.” Fear pitched Anna’s voice unnaturally high. “Tell him he can’t leave us again, Mama.”

Barbara tucked her daughter’s silky hair behind her ears. “I don’t think he’s—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Del’s quiet, steady statement filled the room.

When she looked in his direction, the warmth she’d experienced earlier in his arms flashed through her again. Anna stilled against her and Barbara sensed her staring at her father.

“Anna? I’m not going anywhere.” Although he directed his words to their daughter, his intense gaze locked on Anna’s, Barbara still felt the words were meant for her as well. Her pulse picked up. One corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, and he turned his gaze on Barbara. “Hear me?”

Anna nodded, her head brushing Barbara’s chin. He opened his arms, and after the briefest of hesitations, Anna went from Barbara’s hug to his. He held her tight, his eyes closed, face pressed against her hair. Lingering anguish was plain on his features and an answering ache gripped Barbara’s throat.

“I won’t leave you again,” he murmured against their daughter’s temple. “I promise, baby. I’m not going anywhere and I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

“You mean it, Daddy?” Lyssa moved to them, and Del wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his embrace as well. “Really?”

“I mean it.” He lifted his head and moisture glittered in his eyes. Cupping each of their heads with a long-fingered hand, he pressed kisses on their foreheads. “We’re going to spend the night at Grandma’s.”

He looked up and met Barbara’s gaze, clearly seeking her approval. She nodded, arms wrapped around her midriff. “That sounds like a great idea.” She smiled, trying to still her trembling chin. “Your Uncle Chuck offered to stay with Blake. That way Daddy and I can both be with you.”

The girls seemed satisfied but didn’t turn loose of their father. As she watched them, her throat tightened further. Del spoke to them in a low, soothing tone and offered his own reassurances. He appeared steady and reliable, and a familiar love washed through her. Suppressing a sigh, she gave in to the inevitable. Of course she still loved him. She wasn’t sure, even under all the bitterness and pain, if she’d ever stopped.

Once more, everything they could have opened before her—shared love, real intimacy, a whole family. She pulled herself up and buried the hazy daydreams. Right now, she needed to be a mother rather than a woman falling in love all over again. Practical matters beckoned, offering respite from the worry of getting in over her head with Del Calvert too soon again. She pushed her bangs back and tried to think. Clothes. The girls would need clothing for a couple of days. She would need to call the insurance adjustor, see if their policy covered having the room cleaned or repainted. The last thing she wanted to do was walk back in that room and see those ugly, vile words.

She glanced up and caught Del watching her. Their gazes locked for a moment and his face softened. “Tell you what,” he said, disentangling himself from the girls. “I’m going to walk over and see if Tick’s done. While I’m there, I’ll get all of you some clothes. Then we’ll head over to Grandma’s to let you two get some rest.”

With one last kiss pressed to the top of each daughter’s head, he was gone. Barbara let out a shaky breath. If she’d needed any confirmation, the hole his absence left in any room underscored how she felt about him. She felt empty with him gone.

She’d been empty without him for weeks, filling the barrenness with the minutia of her daily routine. It had never really worked and she’d always been searching for something more.

Tori’s gentle touch drifted over her shoulder. “Like I said, he’d do anything for you, Barb.” The quiet words hovered between them, all the bitter antagonism gone from her voice, leaving only a wistful sadness. “Make sure this time. Please don’t hurt him again.”

Barbara stepped from the shower in the Jack-and-Jill bathroom between the two east-facing bedrooms in Lenora Calvert’s home. The girls slept behind the closed door to her right, in what had been Tori’s childhood room. Barbara would take the left room, which had belonged to Del’s other sister Ruthie. After they’d gotten the girls settled, he’d disappeared across the hall with a copy of Blake’s last high school yearbook, to the bedroom he’d shared with Tick growing up.

She rubbed a towel over her damp hair and shivered. The quiet hung around her, disturbed only by the occasional creak of the old house settling in for the night. The grumblings sounded ominous and threatening tonight.

“Stop being so paranoid.” Her voice sounded loud in the small room and she laughed at herself, a thin, shaky sound. They were safe here. Del had taken a long, circuitous route from the house to here, constantly checking the rearview mirror, and he was right across the hall. She repeated that while tugging on her pajamas. When she slid her feet into the pink frou-frou slippers he’d remembered, she smiled.

“He’s right across the hall.” She clicked off the light and closed the door on her way into the bedroom. The bedside lamp spilled golden light on the polished hardwood floor. The shadow of an oak tree limb outside waved against the window. She swallowed hard, staring at the white sheets and the shadows lurking in the corners. The problem was she didn’t want him across the hall. She wanted him here, with her.

No clinging.

Stiffening her spine, she crossed to the bed. This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, not a child afraid of the dark. Kicking off her slippers with more force than necessary, she climbed into bed and turned off the light. The branch scratched against the window and she squeezed her eyes closed, squelching the fear.

A tear trickled from beneath her lids, followed by another, until a silent torrent streamed down her face. The awful words scrawled on the girls’ wall pounded in her brain, mixing with images of the bruises on Blake’s body. The foreboding refused to be put aside and grew until the terror threatened to choke her. She rolled into the empty pillow beside her and cried, rough sobs shaking her.

Behind her, the mattress dipped.

“Baby, don’t.” Del tugged her upright and into his arms. She wouldn’t let herself relax into him, but couldn’t make herself pull away either. She held the pillow closer and cried harder. He pried the sodden thing from her hands and tightened his embrace. Twisting, Barbara buried her face against his chest. She clutched at him a moment before reality intruded and she used his chest to lever away.

“No.” She shook her head, hair sticking to her hot, damp face. “I don’t want to do this.”

He smoothed the wet strands from her forehead. “Do what, baby?”

She had to gulp for air. “Lean on you.
Cling
to you.”

A frown creased his forehead, drew his brows together. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“I don’t want to need you.”

Sorrow flashed through his eyes, but he lowered his head and brushed her mouth with his. “Why not? I need you.”

With trembling fingers, she swiped tears from her cheeks. He needed her? She couldn’t remember him ever saying the words, other than in a sexual sense. The idea intrigued her, stopping her breath for a moment. “For what?”

Caressing her face, he stared down at her, his eyes dark and soft in the dim moonlight. “To complete me. To make me whole.”

She wanted to reach out and hold onto the aching emotion in his voice. Instead, she struggled for practicality. “That’s not the same thing. When I’m with you, I feel like some emotional vampire—”

“A vampire?” He chuckled, the low sound shivering over her nerve endings. “Baby, come on. You’re exhausted and it’s been a rough day. Lay down and let me take care of you.”

The urge to do just that gleamed before her, a luxurious mirage. “No.”

He kissed his way along her jaw. “Why not?”

She fought against the subtle persuasion in his touch. “Because I needed you so much, depended on you so much before, that after you left, I couldn’t find
me
. I didn’t know who that was. I can’t go back there.”

He cupped her head, tilting her face to his. His eyes glittered. “You don’t have to go back. But we can go forward. And you don’t have to shoulder everything, either.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered, and it wasn’t the dark fear of the unknown tugging at her.

“I know.” He kissed her again, a gentle, comforting touch of his lips against hers. “And I do need you, hon. Today scared the hell out of me. When Anna yelled for me…” Eyes closed, he shook his head. “Come hold me for a while.”

He shifted to lie against the pillow and held out his arms. With his hair falling over his forehead and a slight grin curving his mouth, he looked like the boy she’d first loved. After fighting a moment of indecision, she gave in and moved to lie in the circle of his arms, her own body tense and stiff. A low, satisfied sound shook his chest.

“Relax,” he murmured, caressing her back with long, sweeping strokes.

His heart beat in a steady thrum under her ear and, as his warmth seeped into her, she let the tension drain away. She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his undershirt and he sighed.

“God, this feels good.” He kissed her temple. “Almost as good as being inside you.”

“Mmm.” Sleep made her lids heavy, and she wasn’t sure if the final words slipping through her brain were his murmur or her own thoughts.

I could stay here forever.