by Lori Foster
"Where did you go when you left, Em?"
More silence. She turned her head to stare out the window.
Not bothering to hide his exasperation, Casey said, "C'mon, Emma. Hell, it's been damn near a decade. Does it really matter if you tell me?" He couldn't soften his tone, couldn't soften his reaction to her. Emma had always had the ability to make him feel things he didn't want to feel, to feel things he hadn't felt since she'd left him.
He could see her resistance, her reticence. She didn't trust him, never really had, and that bothered him most of all. "You came to me once, Emma. Why can't you talk to me now?"
"People change over time, Casey."
"Me or you?"
"In eight years? I'd say both." Turning from the window, she looked at him and sighed. "I don't even know you anymore."
In so many ways she knew him better than anyone ever had. But he was glad she didn't realize it. "So where you went is a big secret, huh?" He rubbed his upper lip as he considered her. "Must be something scandalous, right? Let me think. Wait, I know. Did you become a spy?"
She rolled her eyes, looking so much like the old teasing girl he used to know.
"No? Well, let's see. Did you join up with a circus or get sent to prison?"
"No, no, and no."
"Then what?" Unable to help himself, he stretched out his arm and cupped her shoulder. Her nearness made it impossible for him not to touch her. The ancient, baggy sweatshirt she wore all but hid her breasts. But Casey knew their softness, their plump weight. How they felt in his palms.
Oh yeah, he remembered that too well.
Emma lifted her face and met his gaze. "There's no reason to rehash old news."
"It's not old for me." He recalled the many nights he'd lain awake worrying about her, imagining every awful scenario that could happen to a girl all alone. It had made him sick with fear – and blind with rage. "I offered you help, Emma, and rather than take it you left me a goddamn note that didn't tell me a thing. You ran out on me. You stole money from me." You ripped out my heart.
She bit her lip, her face awash in guilt. "I'm sorry."
Damn it, he didn't want her apology. He thought to take back the words, but instead he drew a deep breath and continued, hoping to cajole her, reassure her. "I worried about you, Emma, especially when I found out you didn't have a relative in Ohio. I worried and I thought about you and wished like hell I'd done something different. I screwed up that night, and I know it."
Her eyes were wide and dark, filled with incredulity. "But...that's nonsense."
"I don't think so. You came to me, and I let you down."
"No." She leaned forward and her cool fingers caressed his jaw. His muscles clenched with her first tentative touch. "Don't ever think that, Casey. You did more than enough. You helped me more than anyone else ever could have."
"Right."
"Casey..." She hesitated, then she whispered, "You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You always made me happy, even after I'd gone away."
Robbed of breath by her words, Casey closed his hand over hers and kept her palm flat against his jaw. It was such a simple touch, and it meant so much to him. "But I don't deserve an accounting? Or do I have to go on wondering what happened to you?"
She tugged her hand free and let it drop to the gearshift. Their gazes were locked together, neither of them able or willing to look away. The dog laid his head on the back of the seat between them, watching closely. He gave a whine of curiosity.
B.B. probably felt Emma's distress, Casey thought, because he sure as hell felt it. He regretted that he'd upset her, but he needed to know where she'd gone and how she'd gotten by. He had to know.
"All right." Her whispered words barely reached him, then she cleared her throat and spoke with new strength. "But it's a boring story."
"Let me be the judge of that."
With a sigh, she dropped back into her seat and folded her hands in her lap. Her hair fell forward to hide her face. Casey wanted to smooth it back so he could better see her, but he didn't want to take a chance on interrupting her confession.
"For the first two weeks I lived in a park. There were plenty of woods so it was easy to hide when they shut the gates. There were outdoor rest rooms and stuff there, places for me to clean up and get a drink and..." She rolled her shoulders. "I had everything I needed. In a way, it was fun, like an adventure."
"Jesus, Em. You don't mean..."
"Yeah." She dredged up a smile that didn't do a damn thing to convince him. "I slept on the ground, using my backpack for a pillow. You know, it reminded me of all those nights we used to stay out late on the lake. You remember how we could hear the leaves and see all the stars and the air was so cool and crisp? We'd get mosquito bites, but it was worth it. Well, it was like that. A little scary at times, but also sort of soothing and peaceful. It'd be so quiet I'd stare up at the sky and think about everyone back in Buckhorn." Her gaze darted away, and she added on a whisper, "I'd think about you."
Pained, his heart aching, Casey closed his eyes. Emma didn't know how her words devastated him, because she wasn't looking at him.
"That's where I found B.B. He was still a puppy, a warm, energetic ball of fur, and when we saw each other, he was so...happy to be with me." She laced her fingers together, waited. "Someone had abandoned him."
Just as her father had abandoned her?
"I picked ticks off him and used my comb to get snarls out of his fur and he played with me and kept me company."
This time her smile was genuine, a small, sweet smile, as she talked about the dog. Casey wanted to crowd her close and put his arms around her and protect her forever. The urge was so strong, he sounded gruff as he asked, "Why did you stay in a park, Emma?"
"There was nowhere else to stay. I used the money I had – and your money – to pay for my bus fare to Chicago, and for food. After I got there, I couldn't get a job because I couldn't give a place of residence, and I couldn't get a place of residence without a job reference. I was afraid if I went to any of the shelters, they'd contact my family and...send me back home."
Casey scrubbed at his face. Emma was twenty-five now, but he saw her as she'd been when she left – young, bruised, scared and lonely. What she'd gone through was worse than he'd suspected, worse than he'd ever imagined. He'd held on to the belief that she knew someone, that she'd had someone to take care of her. But she'd been all alone. Vulnerable. And it hurt to know that.
"I'm not sure what would have eventually happened. But then one day B.B. got really sick. He'd eaten something bad and he was dehydrated, weak. He could barely walk. I was so afraid that I'd lose him, I chanced going to the vet clinic that I'd seen not far from the park. That's where I met Parker Devaughn and his son, Damon."
She turned to B.B. and hugged him close. Several seconds passed, and Casey knew she was weighing her words. "It took almost a week before B.B. was healthy again. I hung out there, staying by his side as much as they'd let me."
The images flooding his mind were too agonizing to bear. "What happened?"
"They ... figured out my situation when I couldn't pay the bill and offered to let me work it off instead."
"They realized that you were homeless?" Casey wanted to hear all the details about where she'd slept, how she'd stayed safe. When the dog was sick, she'd been alone more than ever.
But one thought kept overriding all others. How bad had it been for her in Buckhorn that she'd rather sleep alone in a park with no one for company except an abandoned dog? What the hell had happened to make her run away?
Emma gave a small nod. "I couldn't leave B.B. and they wouldn't let me have him without explaining. I was afraid they'd turn me in and send me back home. But when I told them everything, they surprised me."
"Everything?"
She glanced at him, then away. Skipping his question, she said, "They took me in and they've treated me like family ever since. Parker even helped me to get my G.E.D. and to find a job I love. Life no
w is...great."
She'd left out everything painful, either to spare him or because she couldn't bear to talk about it. Casey didn't know which, and neither was acceptable. He suddenly wanted her to be his friend again, that young girl with the enormous soft eyes always filled with invitation. The girl who always came to him with open admiration and her heart on her sleeve. The girl who'd wanted him – and only him.
His decisions, his feelings for her back then, had seemed so simple and straightforward. He'd liked controlling things, only letting her so close, giving her only as much as he wanted and holding back everything else.
Or so he'd thought.
But somehow Emma had crawled under his skin and into his head, his heart. He hadn't known until she was gone that she'd taken more than he'd ever meant to give her. He hadn't known until she was gone, and a big piece of him was missing. Being apart from her while becoming a man hadn't changed how he felt. It had only complicated it.
Disturbed by his reaction to her, he teased her by tugging on a lock of her hair. "That story is so full of holes I could use it for a sieve."
"No, I've told you everything that's important."
"Em..."
"Thanks to Parker and Damon, I did fine," she insisted. She smiled a little, and her eyes glinted with humor. "In fact, I might owe them even more than I owe you."
Annoyance fought with tenderness, making his voice gruff. "You don't owe me a damn thing and you know it."
"I knew you probably felt that way." She shook her head, still smiling in that small, tantalizing way that made him want to lick her mouth. "That's one of the things that always made you so special, Casey."
Hearing her say such a thing took some of the edge off his urgency. He liked thinking that he'd been special to her, because she'd certainly been special to him. He just hadn't known it until it was too late.
Acting on impulse, he took her hand. "Have breakfast with me tomorrow. We can catch up on old times and you can fill me in on the pieces you're leaving out right now."
She gave a shrug of apology. "I can't. I'm going to the hospital first thing."
He'd almost forgotten about her father and felt like an ass because of it. It surprised him that she'd return to see the man who'd run her off, but he supposed time could heal those wounds. And Dell wasn't in the best of health. "We can make it dinner."
She closed her eyes on a sigh of weariness. "I don't think so, Casey."
Her rejection struck him like a blow. "I'm special," he asked, "but not special enough to share a meal with?"
She swiveled her head toward him. "I'm sorry—"
In an instant, his temper snapped. "Will you quit saying that!"
She flipped her hair back and her eyes flashed. "Don't yell at me."
"Then quit apologizing." And in a mumble, "You always did apologize too much."
B.B. let out a low warning growl, breaking the flow of anger. Emma turned to the big dog and rubbed his muzzle. In a calmer tone, she said, "I can't make any plans because I don't know what my schedule will be, or how much free time I'll have."
And she wasn't sleeping alone.
Casey cursed softly, but he couldn't blame Devaughn. If he had Emma warming his bed, no way would he let her out with another man.
He wouldn't give up, but he would slow it down. He'd been her friend once, maybe her only friend in Buckhorn. He'd build on that. He'd give her time to breathe, to get used to him again.
Until Emma got the water pump fixed, she'd need transportation to the hospital. He'd be happy to oblige, to give her a helping hand.
One thing was certain, before she took off this time he'd have all his questions answered. He'd be damned if he'd let her sneak out on him a second time.
CHAPTER FOUR
AS IF FROM A DISTANCE, Emma heard the knock on the thin motel-room door. She forced her head from the flat, overstarched pillow and glanced at the glowing face of the clock. It was barely six-thirty and her body remained limp with the heaviness of sleep. She'd only been in bed five hours.
After Damon had finally returned and they'd transferred everything from her car to Casey's and gotten to the Cross Roads Motel, it had been well past one o'clock. She hadn't unpacked, had only pulled off her shoes, jeans, bra and sweatshirt, and dropped into the bed in a tee and panties. She'd been so exhausted, both in body and spirit, that thoughts of food or a shower disintegrated beneath tiredness.
Why would anyone be calling on her this early?
B.B. snuffled around and let out a warning woof, but Emma patted him and he resettled with a modicum of grumbling and growling. Stretched on his side, he took up more than his fair share of the bed. "It's okay, boy. I'll be right back."
Probably Mrs. Reider, she thought, ready with a complaint of some kind, though Emma couldn't imagine what it might be. They'd kept very quiet coming in last night and hadn't disturbed anyone as far as she knew.
B.B. was atop the covers, so Emma grabbed the bedspread that had gotten pushed to the bottom of the bed. She halfheartedly wrapped it around herself and let it drag on the floor.
Without turning on a light, she padded barefoot to the door, turned the cheap lock, and swung it open. The room had been dark with the heavy drapes drawn, but now she had to lift a hand to shield her eyes against the red glow of a rising sun. She blinked twice before her bleary eyes could focus.
And there stood Casey.
His powerful body lounged against the door frame, silhouetted by a golden halo. In the daylight, he looked more devastatingly handsome than ever. Confusion washed over Emma and she stared, starting at Casey's feet and working her way up.
Laced-up, scuffed brown boots showed beneath well-worn jeans that rode low on his lean hips and were faded white in stress spots, like his knees, the pocket where he kept his keys. His fly.
Emma blinked at that, then shook her head and continued upward. With the casual clothing, he'd forgone a belt. In fact, two belt loops were missing from the ancient jeans.
In deference to the heat, he wore a sleeveless, battered white cotton shirt that left his muscular arms and tanned shoulders on display. Mirrored sunglasses shielded his eyes, and his mouth curled in a lopsided, wicked grin. "Morning, Emma."
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, making speech difficult. "What are you doing here?"
Lifting one hand, which caused all kinds of interesting muscles to flex in his arm, he showed her the smallest of her suitcases. "You forgot this in the trunk of my car. I thought you might need it today."
"Oh." She looked around, not sure what to do next. She did need the case, seeing that it held her toiletries and makeup. But she could hardly invite him in when she wasn't dressed. Loosening her hold on the bedspread, she reached for the case. "Thank you..."
Casey removed the decision from her. Lifting the case out of reach, he stepped inside just in time to see B.B. bound off the bed and lunge forward with a growl. When he recognized Casey, he slowed and the growl turned into a tail-wagging hello. Casey greeted the dog while eyeing the bed he'd vacated. Being a double, it provided just enough room for one woman – and her pet.
He quirked an eyebrow at Emma as realization dawned. She hadn't slept alone, so he couldn't accuse her of lying. But she hadn't slept with a man either, which had been his assumption.
Casey grinned and reached down to pat the dog. "You've sure got the cushy life, don't you, B.B.?"
The dog jumped up, putting his paws on Casey's shoulders. Casey laughed. "Yeah, sleeping with a gorgeous woman would put any guy in a good mood."
Left standing in the open doorway, Emma hadn't quite gathered her wits yet. Too little sleep combined with Casey Hudson in the morning could rattle anyone. She certainly wasn't up to bantering with him. "He's always slept with me. It's one reason I bring him along everywhere I go."
"Gotcha." Casey looked around again, and his grin widened. "So. Where's Damon?"
He tried to sound innocent, but failed. Knowing the jig was up, Emma scowled at him. Would he
now consider her fair game, since she wasn't involved? What would she say to dissuade him if he did?
Did she really want to dissuade him?
The connecting door opened and Damon stuck his dark head out. With only one eye opened, he demanded, "What the hell's going on?" Then he saw Casey, and that one eye widened. "Oh, it's you. I should have known."
In his boxers and nothing more, Damon pulled the door wider. Emma wasn't uncomfortable with his lack of dress. More often than not, Damon acted like her brother.
Casey took in the separate rooms with a look of deep satisfaction. "Morning, Devaughn."
"Yeah, whatever." Damon yawned, leaned in the doorway, and crossed his arms over his naked chest. His blue eyes were heavy, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and his silky black hair stuck out in funny disarray. "You country boys like to get up early, I take it?"
"Country boys?" Casey didn't sound amused by that description.
Undisturbed by Casey's pique, Damon lazily eyed him with both eyes this time, taking in the old snug jeans and the muscle shirt. "Brought it up another notch, I see."
Casey's scowl darkened. "What?"
Damon just shook his head and glanced at Emma. "Give me a minute to get dressed."
She didn't want to turn this into a social gathering, and besides, both men were bristling, which didn't bode well. "That's not necessary."
"No?"
"No." Emma saw Damon's surprise and rubbed her forehead. He looked as tired as she felt, so why didn't he just go on back to bed so she could deal with Casey in private? She moderated her tone. "It's fine, Damon. Get some more sleep."
He didn't budge. "You turned willing overnight?" Her moderation shot to hell, Emma ground her teeth together. "Damon..."
"Was it the macho clothes that turned the trick?" Casey shifted his stance but Emma growled, causing both B.B. and Damon to watch her warily.
Damon straightened in the doorway with dawning suspicion. "Have you had your coffee?"
Emma slowly looked up at him. A long rope of tangled hair hung over her bloodshot, puffy eyes. She wore only her T-shirt and a bedspread. Curling her lip, she asked, "Do I look to you like I've had coffee?"