Her eyes widened and she brought her hand to her mouth.
“I usually spend this day either drinking myself into oblivion, or contemplating suicide. Today is the first day since it happened that I’ve laughed, which is what my daughter was all about. Laughter.” His smile was small and pained.
“She loved to laugh. She loved the beach. She loved to play. When you invited me to go with you and Seth tonight my immediate reaction was that it would be disrespectful to attempt to have any semblance of a good time on such an awful day, but the more I thought about it, I realized that Leanna would have chosen laughter and light over dark sadness any day. I went with you because it was something she would have loved, and because I couldn’t say no to your kindness, Evie. I just couldn’t.”
He met her eyes. “Once I was there, with you and Seth, watching the two of you interact, I was reminded of what it felt like to have a family. And it hurt. But, strangely, it also felt nice. It felt nice to not be so isolated with my sorrow. It’s not that I forgot the acute pain in my heart at her absence, for that will be with me forever, but it was just…” He sighed as he searched for the words.
“Nice to not have to be so alone,” she murmured. His eyes held so much pain when he looked at her. Pain and sorrow and an enormous amount of guilt. He gave a slow nod, then put his face in his hands.
“It didn’t feel wrong at the time,” he whispered. “To laugh… I’m so sorry.”
Evie didn’t think he was apologizing to her. He was apologizing to his daughter, for daring to laugh, to try and move forward. She took a tentative step toward him, her heart breaking as she watched him cry softly. Who had he spoken with? Who had made him feel like he should punish himself for celebrating his daughter’s love for life? She reached out slowly and placed her hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, she extended it across his back so her arm was around him.
“Traevyn,” she breathed, “there is nothing wrong in what you did. There is nothing wrong with laughing, especially when it’s what your daughter would have loved. Whoever made you feel like it was wrong is stupid.” She felt so at a loss. She knew there were no real words of comfort she could offer. Not for a situation like this. She sighed and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Traevyn,” she whispered. “You know I didn’t know.”
He shook his head. “Evie, you saved me from horrible pain this evening. You and your brother made me remember the beauty of my daughter’s life and not just the tragedy of her death. I will never forget that.”
She closed her eyes, swearing she could feel his pain in her own heart. She hesitated only a moment before she wrapped her other arm around him and held him in an awkward embrace.
Traevyn closed his eyes as Evie’s warmth surrounded him. Warmth. It was so foreign. He was so used to cold solitude. Evie. He didn’t even know why he had just told her all he had. He didn’t know why he had decided to come back into the room after he’d hung up the phone. Any other time he would have just taken his leave, would have isolated himself to cry alone, would never have involved her—a near stranger—in his sorrow. He didn’t know why he had returned, why he felt comforted by her. It was strange, so out of character… He sat up and wiped his eyes. “Forgive me.” He stood abruptly and knocked her off of him. “My problems are not your problems. I shouldn’t have involved you.” He turned and headed toward the door.
Evie could hardly comprehend what was going on. One minute she was holding him and the next she was stumbling backwards trying not to fall on her butt. “Traevyn!” she cried. She lunged forward without thinking and grabbed his hand. “You can’t just walk away! I can’t let you go and suffer alone.” He was always alone. No one should have to be so isolated.
“I am used to being alone,” he almost snarled.
Her grip on his hand tightened as he tried to move away from her. “You shouldn’t have to be. Traevyn, it’s okay to talk to me. I would never criticize or condemn you either. You do a good enough job of doing that to yourself. Please, I know you’re stubborn and prideful, but don’t shut me out just because talking to someone instead of brooding alone is foreign to you. It might do you some good to have some company.” She couldn’t stand the thought of him going in his room and sobbing again. It hurt her heart.
He heaved a sigh and turned to face her. His icy demeanor softened somewhat, and he took her hand between both of his. “Evie, I mean no offense,” he said, his voice soft. “I understand your point; I do, but I can’t talk about it. It amazes me that I was able to say as much as I did. When I speak of what happened three years ago, it’s like someone is taking a razorblade and dissecting my heart. It hurts too badly. You must understand.”
She gave a slow nod and gazed up into his eyes. It made a dull ache settle into her heart to look at the hurt in their amazing depths.
He shook his head and gently touched her cheek with his fingertips. “You are a good person. I know you’re concerned, but I need to handle this on my own. It’s what I’m used to.”
She nodded again because she didn’t know what else to do. “Whatever you need, Traevyn,” she murmured.
His lips upturned in a pained smile. “Thank you.” He turned away from her and walked slowly out of the room. Away from warmth. Away from light. Back to the shadows. Back to his familiar darkness. Back to hell.
Chapter Nine
There was a winding trail through the eucalyptus trees that led to a small plateau overlooking the ocean. Evie had discovered it that morning by accident. She hadn’t been able to sleep very well after what had happened with Traevyn. She’d dozed mostly, and at five o’clock she’d realized, as she stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling, that there was no hope of her getting back to sleep anytime soon. So she had taken a walk, deciding to explore the surroundings a bit.
It was evening now and she stood on the same plateau. She hadn’t seen Traevyn all day, but she hadn’t gone looking for him either. She didn’t want to bother him, even though everything within her was screaming to find him and see if he was all right. She didn’t want to pry. He had insisted on his solitude, and she’d told him she would respect that. She just couldn’t shake the image of him slumped wearily in that chair, crying and hurt. It haunted her.
Curiosity nagged at her. Who had been on the phone, and why had they called? What had they said to hurt Traevyn so badly? She sighed and folded her arms as tendrils of fog curled around her, misting her face. The waves lapped their rhythm up onto the shore below and crashed against the cliffs. Everything else, aside from the pounding sea, was quiet and serene. She couldn’t decide if the thundering waves and the cries from the gulls wheeling above in the sky were tranquil, or mournful. She imagined it must be either very therapeutic, or very dangerous, to be all alone with only your thoughts.
Feeling like someone was watching her, Evie turned to look up toward the house. She spotted Traevyn standing on his terrace like a lonely sentinel. His long, flowing hair blew gently in the breeze. A shiver went through her. He always stood so tall and proud, even though his shoulders carried such a heavy burden. She raised her hand in a tentative greeting, wondering if he could see her. Slowly, he raised his hand in return and she shivered again.
What was it about him? What made her react that way to him? She turned back to the scenery and frowned. There was something about him she found so… Unnerving? Fascinating? Alluring? Unimaginably sexy? She shook her head. What was the matter with her? He was almost ten years older than her. And he was issue-ridden. She snorted and turned to head back. She had serious problems.
Evie started dinner as soon as she returned to the house. She was running a little short on food so she cooked steaks for Seth and Traevyn and used what was left of some chicken for her meal. As she was setting the table, Seth came wandering in and plopped into a chair with a yawn. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“Steak and baked potato for you and Traevyn. Fried chicken for me.”
He frowned. “Why are you eating
something different?”
“Just wanted to use it before it went bad.”
Traevyn came in suddenly and made his way toward the table. He was silent, as usual. Evie sat down and dished up her food, trying not to pay too much attention to him. She blinked in surprise when he sat down across from her. She and Seth exchanged a confused look before she glanced up at Traevyn.
“May I join you two at the table tonight?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“O—Of course,” Evie stammered. She met his eyes and flashed him a warm smile.
“Good to have you, dude,” Seth put in.
Traevyn looked down and gave them his trademark half-smile.
Dinner was quiet. There was no way around that, but it made Evie feel good to know he was there. He had never eaten with them before. It was customary for him to just heap his plate and leave. It made her happy to think that maybe he was beginning to enjoy their company. Maybe she had actually managed to say something right the night before. That would be a first.
She was cleaning up when Traevyn came up behind her and placed his hand gently on the small of her back. “I’ve never told you how good of a cook you are,” he said. “Your food is fabulous. I always look forward to dinner.”
Evie turned and looked up at him with a grin. “Thanks, Traevyn.”
“I’ll clean up,” he offered. “You are not my servant.”
She frowned. “It’s all right. You pay me—”
“I pay you to clean once a week and cook one meal a day. I do not pay you to wait on me like a common slave while I sit on my throne. Not to mention the support you gave me yesterday was going above and beyond the call of duty.”
She blushed and looked down, surprised he had brought it up. “Oh, I—”
“Evie, go work on your drawings or something. Please, just let me clean up. All right?”
She gazed up into his eyes and nodded.
He flashed a gentle smile and finished clearing the table for her. It really was the least he could do after losing it the night before. He expelled a deep sigh as he recalled the way she had listened to him, how she had been so compassionate and concerned.
Evie radiated a warm light that he was unfamiliar with, an aura of gentleness surrounded by fiery passion and spunk. She was bold and dynamic, yet could soothe his wounded soul with little effort. It stunned him, and he even found it a bit frightening. No one had been able to reach him since Leanna had died and Amy had left him. No one but his brothers. He let no one close enough to try. Evie seemed to see right past his barriers and, somehow, she just knew. Knew how to touch him, knew how to make him feel, even for one small second, that his heart was beating again. He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t know what to do with it. It terrified him. She terrified him, yet she intrigued him. It was a paradox he couldn’t get away from.
Once he had finished in the kitchen, he went to his studio to paint for awhile. He saw the painting he had mutilated the night before, pocket knife still sticking out of it. He sighed and removed the knife, setting it back on his desk where it belonged. He winced as he remembered the words spoken to him the night before. His heart ached at the absence of his daughter. Persistent, ever-present. There was never any relief from it. It was his curse.
He removed the marred canvas and pulled out a new one. He painted. For four straight hours he painted. His release. His passion. His emotions flowing onto the canvas. When he had finished, he stretched, studied what he had done for a moment, and headed out. It was eleven-thirty. Another day he had survived. He went downstairs to get a glass of wine when he heard what sounded like someone throwing up in the bathroom. He frowned and turned down the hallway just as Evie stumbled out of the bathroom looking pale and weary.
“Evie? Are you all right?”
She slumped against the wall and put her hand over her stomach. “I think the chicken I ate may have already been bad,” she grumbled. “I need to lie down.”
“Would you like me to get you anything?”
She shook her head, then seemed to turn a shade of green and ran back toward the bathroom. Traevyn followed after her without even thinking about it, and he knelt down next to her. He pulled her hair back out of the way while she threw up and ran his hand gently across her back. When it subsided, she slumped down onto the floor and groaned.
“I just love praying to the porcelain god,” she moaned.
He smiled a bit and stood to wet a washcloth. He applied it to her forehead, smoothing her hair back.
“This is humiliating,” she muttered.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured her. “If my stomach was turning inside out I would want someone to help me.”
“Somehow I can’t see you ever wanting anyone’s help in anything.”
He met her eyes briefly. “Everyone needs help sometimes. There are just some circumstances that are more difficult than others. Do you think you can stand?”
She gave a weary nod and let him help her up. Her stomach must have roiled in protest because she groaned.
“Let’s get you upstairs,” he suggested.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to have to run all the way to the end of the hall every five minutes. Just get me to the couch. I’ll watch television and try to distract myself.”
He put one arm loosely around her shoulders and guided her to the living room. “Here, sit down.” She obeyed and he grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair. It was one of those soft fleece ones, and he thought it might be comfortable to her. He knelt and pulled off her shoes, then swung her legs up so she was lying down. He placed the blanket around her and offered a small smile. “Are you comfortable?”
She looked up at him, obviously amazed at his consideration. “You must have been a very good dad,” she murmured.
He averted his gaze, but the smallest of smiles touched his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She started to nod when her stomach somersaulted. She flung the blanket off and bolted back down to the bathroom. Traevyn didn’t follow, but when she managed to pull herself together and shuffle back out into the living room, he was waiting on the couch with a brush in his hand.
“Come here, Evie,” he invited. “Let me help you with your hair.”
She eased herself onto the couch and turned her back to give him access. “You can braid hair?”
“Have you seen the length of mine lately?”
She smiled weakly. His gentle hands gathered her thick mass of hair and he began to brush it. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling. “You don’t have to do this,” she murmured.
He sighed. “Evie, I am not going to leave you to be miserable. What you did for me last night…” He let the sentence hang, apparently unable to find words. “Just let me help you, all right?”
She nodded and loved how his fingers moved through her hair. He was so careful and gentle, not tugging or pulling. Any knots were untangled with care and smoothed.
“You have lovely hair, Evie.”
She smiled. “Thank you. So do you. If I could get my hair to look half as good as yours I would be one happy girl. I know many women who would be jealous of your hair. How do you get it so perfect? It doesn’t look like you have any split ends at all.”
He gave a soft chuckle as he began to braid. “I don’t really do anything to it aside from the usual. My father is Cherokee. I suppose it might have something to do with that.”
She nodded. So he was Native American. That explained his dramatic facial features, as well as his last name. “Is that why your hair is so long? Does it have something to do with your heritage?”
He finished her braid and tied the end. “No, I just look funny with short hair. It’s been long since I was sixteen. My brother Julian has long hair also. Goes better with the Whitelaw features.”
She turned to face him and gave him a meager smile. She leaned back against the couch cushions and groaned as her stomach protested the movement. “So, your brothers share your Indian features?” she a
sked, trying to distract herself from the bile rising in her throat.
“My brother Talis has the dark hair. Julian has the features, but he took after my mother as far as his coloring. He is very blond.”
She nodded. So those were his two brothers in the pictures in his office. She would have to remember to take a better look when she cleaned next. She grasped for the remote and pulled the blanket up over her legs. Traevyn’s house got cold at night with the ocean and the fog.
“Let me get you a glass of water,” he offered.
She groaned and shook her head.
“You need to stay hydrated, Evie. Besides, throwing up water is better than throwing up nothing.”
She remained silent. He had a point. Nothing in the world was worse than dry heaves. As he went into the kitchen, she started to turn on the TV, but quickly realized that the worst was not over and booked it back to the bathroom.
She heard a light knock on the bathroom door after several seconds and she eased herself onto the floor, leaning against the wall. “Come in,” she croaked. She knew she had to be ghastly pale, and she was exhausted.
Traevyn gave her a tender look as he entered, wet the washcloth he had been using before and knelt in front of her, applying it to her face again.
Evie watched him with curiosity. At times he seemed so rough and cold. After shutting her out the night before, she had expected him to go back to being aloof and icy towards her. She had not expected him to treat her the way a long time friend would. Not even Seth would have stayed in the bathroom with her while she threw up. He might have been helpful in other ways, but he would have lost it too if he’d actually been in the same room as her digestive pyrotechnics. “Traevyn,” she croaked.
He met her eyes.
“Thank you.” She said it seriously. She hated to be alone when she was sick. She always had. It was the worst feeling in the world. The fact that he was taking care of her meant more to her than she could express at the moment.
Traevyn gave her a gentle smile and set the washcloth on the sink. “Come on,” he urged, holding his hand out to her. “Let’s get you back to the couch where you can rest.”
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