by Vella Munn
The dog occasionally whimpered but whether it was because he was in pain or excited she couldn’t tell. Terron had carried him over the threshold so she didn’t know whether he was limping. As she was cleaning his left front paw, she spotted blood seeping around the pad. Before she could show Terron, he discovered a cut on the right rear paw.
“It doesn’t look infected,” he said. “But I can’t be sure until the area’s cleaner. We’ll probably never know whether he got injured from walking or because he was running from something.”
“Something? The wolf maybe.”
“If a wolf had been after him, I doubt if Shadow would be alive.”
“You’re right. Maybe a cougar or coyotes?”
“That’s possible.” He brought his face close to Shadow’s muzzle. “You aren’t going to tell us what you were up to, are you? Your not so little adventure will remain your secret.”
“He’s trembling.” When Terron first put Shadow down, the dog had dropped to his belly and crawled to where she was crouched. He’d placed his head on her thighs and looked up her, his expression melting her. Initially he’d thumped his tail against the thin carpet but he’d stopped doing that. “Do you think he’s in shock?”
“Maybe. He has to be exhausted and relieved.”
How wise Terron was. Of course Shadow was worn out. He might have heard her calling last night and earlier today but maybe she’d been too far away or the terrain had distorted where her voice was coming from.
“I bet he got lost.” She turned her attention to his other front paw.
A fresh wave of relief briefly rendered her speechless. She still couldn’t quite grasp that Shadow was back, alive and safe. If she hugged him again, she might lose her hold on her tears.
“Could be.”
Cleaning muck from her dog completed her. She needed nothing more from life than to inhale the scent of wet, dirty dog—and to be sharing this moment with a man who meant a great deal to her.
Where had that come from? There’d barely been any room for Terron in her mind or heart from the moment she’d realized Shadow was gone. A few minutes ago she could hardly wait to see the last of him. Now Shadow was safe and her life stood a chance of returning to normal, but she was still reacting emotionally, nerves raw. She wouldn’t let anything where Terron was concerned go beyond that. After all, he’d found her wanting in the most fundamental ways.
He had, hadn’t he?
When Terron took the probably ruined towel from her, stood, and headed for the sink, she stared at his strong back. Then, overwhelmed in a thousand ways, she placed her arms around Shadow’s neck and hugged him so tight her shoulder protested. She eased up a little but couldn’t make herself let go.
“I was so scared for you,” she softly told Shadow. “The things I thought—please don’t ever do that to me again.”
As Terron rinsed out the towels, she pictured mud running down the sink. “I’m going to fit you with a tracking device,” she continued. “Never ever let you off a leash again.”
“Don’t do that to him.”
“We’ve had this discussion.”
“Yeah, we have. How about getting him some water and something to eat?”
Surprised she hadn’t thought about that, she went around the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen. Terron was too close and yet removed from her. Too much for her to concentrate on especially since nothing had been resolved between them.
As she filled Shadow’s bowl with fresh water, she tried to project life beyond tonight. Because Shadow’s paws would be sore for a while no way would she leave him here while she met with Alisha. In other words, separating herself from Terron would be delayed.
Terron? This was supposed to be about Shadow.
Despite her reluctance to tell Alisha about the latest change in plans, as Shadow started inhaling his meal, she called her friend.
“Let’s tentatively get together in a week,” Alisha suggested. “If he’s housebroken, you can bring him to the office.”
Kolina thanked Alisha but couldn’t shake the question of whether Shadow would get used to the sounds, smells, and sights he’d encounter in a city. She’d assumed he’d come from somewhere around Lake Serene, but if that was true, wouldn’t someone have put up notices about a lost dog? Maybe Shadow would prove to be a city dog, even help her adapt.
It was all too complicated. The only thing she wanted to do was help Terron with mud removal. Either that or ask him to leave.
“Alisha is okay with the delay?” he asked.
“I hope so.”
“So do I.” He studied her until she lowered her gaze. “You aren’t going to have too many jobs like that handed to you.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Are you?”
What was his problem? “I’ve probably held more jobs than you have so don’t tell me how hard it is to find a good one.”
“Which is what Alisha is offering you. You can’t waitress any longer.”
He wanted her gone from Lake Serene. Why hadn’t she seen that earlier? Out of his life and no longer his concern.
Oh, yes, his concern. The whole responsibility thing. Only they weren’t related to each other. She long had and would continue to function just fine without him.
“You have more calls to make,” he said. “At least get in touch with Echo. She can tell the others that the wanderer has returned.”
“You’re right. How could I have forgotten?”
He smiled, just smiled, but suddenly things became even more complicated. He wouldn’t have smiled if he regretted ever meeting her, would he?
She teared up while talking to Echo and cut the conversation short so she wouldn’t break down. When Terron handed her the towels he’d been using, indicating he wanted her to rinse them, she wondered if he was deliberately redirecting her. By the time she’d gotten as much muck as possible out of the towels, she felt as if she had most of her equilibrium back.
All except for where things stood with Terron.
“You’re making an old woman out of me,” she told Shadow as she repositioned herself beside the dog. Her shoulder burned, not that it mattered. She handed Terron one towel and shook out the other. When Shadow stretched out his head, she covered it with the terrycloth and started rubbing it. She swore the dog sighed.
“He’s bonded with you,” Terron said. “Whatever happened to him out there, getting back to you is what kept him going.”
Emotion again banked inside her. “I didn’t realize how much I need to be responsible for something alive.” Stop while you can. Don’t say more than you can face.
Terron put down his towel and stepped over the sprawled Shadow. He stood watching while she massaged the dog’s ears, forehead, and muzzle. Finally the need to focus on Terron became more than she could ignore, and she looked up at him. Whatever he was thinking, he was keeping it from her.
“I’m going to leave,” he said.
Chapter Eighteen
No! She wanted to scream. At the same time, the need to be alone with her emotions was so powerful she was tempted to shove him toward the door.
“Do you know why I said that?” he asked.
“Because I’m a mess. All mixed up and—and mess.”
“It isn’t you. It’s me.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
“This?”
“You.”
Her? “I’m sorry I jumped all over you for the role you played in Shadow—”
“It isn’t that.”
“Then what—Terron, I’m not going to try to pull something out of you.” But if he left tonight, they might never have another true conversation. “You didn’t think you were going to get involved with someone who goes at relationships sideways, did you?” she asked. “Someone who doesn’t know the first thing about how it’s done. You wanted and deserved light and easy. Instead you got me.”
When her speech w
as met with silence, she replayed what he’d said about not being sure whether he was ready for her. “It was too fast, wasn’t it? You hadn’t gotten over losing your parents.”
“I’d lost them long before they died.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Maybe you don’t.” He walked over to the counter and leaned against it. At least he hadn’t headed for the door. “Because in some respects, you never had a family.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I don’t mean to hurt you, but that’s the impression I got from what you told me.”
“It’s pretty accurate.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I apologize if I sounded melodramatic when I told you I’d lost my folks before they died. What I meant is the vibrant personalities I’d taken for granted got stripped away by illness. I’ve said it before so won’t belabor the point but I was taken through the emotional wringer.”
“You wanted an end to responsibility.”
“Not just that.”
While waiting for him to explain, she repositioned herself so she could continue to regard him without putting her neck under strain while staying in contact with Shadow.
“What do you want me to say? Something different from what we’ve been belaboring like—like asking you to make love to me. That wouldn’t stop you from leaving after so I won’t.”
“We’d be good in bed.”
I think we would.
“Maybe that’s what we should have done from the beginning,” he said. “A purely physical relationship.”
Only that wasn’t them. “There’s something you haven’t told me isn’t there? That’s what this is about.”
“Maybe.”
“No, not maybe. Damn it, Terron, whatever you haven’t said, I need to hear it. Get it out. That way you can make a clean break.”
When he pushed away from the counter, she readied herself for him walking out of her place and life. Thanks to her mother, she knew what that felt like. She’d survive the wrench.
“Yeah.” He leaned back again. “You have a right to know where I’m coming from.”
What if I don’t want to? “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a big deal of this. I’ve never said anything to anyone about this because I didn’t want to be judged by someone who wasn’t there.”
“I won’t judge.”
“I’ll take you at your word. Maybe it’s the air at Lake Serene. Maybe it’s because I’ve put some distance between myself and what happened. Maybe it’s you.”
Me. “What happened?”
He kept his sober gaze on her. “I told Mom this would remain between her and me, but that was before I met you. The need to open up, to come clean…”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just listen. Mom’s cancer—she’d gone into remission a couple of times. Every time it came back, the beast was even crueler. It kept changing, becoming more aggressive, giving doctors new targets to try to hit.” He pressed his hand to his forehead. “The last time the pain—it was so bad. She was exhausted from fighting a battle we knew she couldn’t win. Her doctors had pulled the last tricks out of their final bag, but she still had a few months before…”
She patted Shadow, stood, walked over to Terron, and took his hand. He didn’t seem to notice. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s what I told my mother when I realized I had nothing left to give her. We were both exhausted, ready to surrender. She’d talk to me when she believed she couldn’t talk to Dad because of his heart. There were nights—a lot of nights—when it was just her and me talking in the dark.”
The image he’d painted nearly tore her apart. “You were there for her. Maybe that’s all she needed.”
“No. Mom needed me to help her die.”
She’d guessed what Terron was going to say almost before he spoke the words. This wasn’t about her. Her beliefs regarding end of life decisions didn’t matter. Encouraging him in the only way she could think to do, she moved his hand to between her breasts near her heart.
“She made a decision,” he continued. “She was going to stop eating and taking all medications except the ones designed to try to control her pain. I promised her I’d be there for the end. No more doctor visits, no more tests, an end to hospitalizations. Staying home. Being as comfortable as possible.”
Terron’s fingers repeatedly opened and closed as he told her about his mother’s last days. There’d been times when waiting for her to leave this earth nearly destroyed him but he spent her last days and nights at her bedside doing what little he could, already grieving because he loved her so much. Wanting her to wake up, wanting her to remain unconscious where hopefully pain couldn’t find her. She died in his arms. By then his father had accepted her decision and had been there as well.
“What a beautiful gift you gave her,” she said.
“A gift?”
“Your presence. I just wish you hadn’t been so isolated near the end. I’m sure you didn’t want to stress your dad more than necessary. In addition, you wanted to protect your mother from what you were going through.”
“My role was to support her decision.”
She kissed him first on his eyelids and then his mouth. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Proud?”
“It was a loving son’s ultimate gift to the woman who’d given birth to him.”
Shadow pushed himself to his feet and limped over to them. Once there, he pushed between their bodies and looked up as if asking if this was a threesome. Even though she was still absorbing what she’d learned, she stroked her dog’s head.
“Why do you think you chose now to tell me what you did? Instead of leaving as I’m sure you wanted to, you—”
“Because pouring out what I just did was easier than saying good-bye to you.”
Good-bye? Oh, yes, her job. A paycheck. Solvency. “You must have thought about telling me before this.”
He shook his head. “I kept trying to convince myself it didn’t matter, that no one, not even you, needed to know those details. Then I watched you struggling to hold it together while Shadow was missing. I couldn’t read your thoughts, but I was pretty sure you were experiencing a lot of what I did.”
She could only guess at how long they’d been standing next to each other. During that time, her body had become aware of his in ways that had nothing to do with what they’d been talking about. She’d experienced a like moment last night when she’d looked at him while he was sleeping, except back then she’d denied the physical attraction she was experiencing. Maybe this was the last time they’d be alone together, maybe not. Whichever it was, she wanted them to remember these moments.
Wanted to be as honest as he’d been.
“Terron, it’s my turn to tell you something.”
He captured the fingers that had been holding his hand and brought them near his throat. “All right.”
“It isn’t as intense as what you went through, but I told you I wasn’t with Brian when he died. The thing is, I didn’t fully explain why.”
He frowned. “You’re right. You didn’t.”
“We were having problems. No.” She shook her head. “That isn’t what I meant to say. As long as Brian made the decisions, everything went smoothly between us. He was self-confident with a great deal of experience. Not particularly successfully when it came to a career but that didn’t bother him. He was living the way he wanted to.”
“And he expected you to fall in line.”
“In a way. At first I agreed with the decisions he made in large part because I didn’t have a sense of direction. I’d always lived day-to-day myself so what Brian and I were doing wasn’t much different.”
“But the time came when you could no longer let him call the majority of the shots?”
“My independence was starting to reassert itself. I told him I didn’t like being told what we were going to do. I wanted to quit trucking and try something else, no
t be on the move all the time, but we’d recently gotten bonuses. He’d been talking about buying our own truck so we could make even more money.”
“That would really tie you two together,” he said as, sighing, Shadow lowered his rump to the floor.
She rubbed Shadow between his ears with the hand Terron wasn’t holding. “Yes, it would. That was on my mind a lot. Brian didn’t see a problem with that. He even said we should consider buying two trucks and starting our own business. The run he was on when he had his accident—the truck he was driving was for sale. He’d maintained that since my name was going to be on the loan I needed to drive it for part of the run.”
“Thank goodness you weren’t.”
Her mind snagged on memories of that argument and what might have happened if she’d been in the cab with Brian.
“I stood up for myself, told him I wasn’t going to be forced into something I didn’t want. It felt good. He finally stopped trying to persuade me, just said we’d talk about it when he got back.”
She’d done all the standing in one place she could, needed movement in order to complete her story. Terron didn’t follow her when, after freeing her hand, she walked over to the closest window. Frost had formed on the outside of the pane.
“As he was getting ready to leave, I told him we needed to decide whether we wanted to continue to be together. Make a joint decision.”
“That couldn’t have been easy to say.”
“It wasn’t, but I did it. I hadn’t been fair to either Brian or me by letting him take the lead. I just wish I hadn’t floated for as long as I did. Maybe I wouldn’t have, if I’d had more experience with this sharing business.”
“It was what it was.”
Terron had said so much in a few words—words that made it easy for her to keep going. “My timing sucked. For a long time after he died, I blamed myself.”
“Like I blamed myself for what happened to Shadow.”
“In a way.” More than in a way. Terron had keyed into a similarity she didn’t dare lose sight of. “If Brian hadn’t been thinking about what I’d laid on him, he wouldn’t have been distracted.”