by Peggy Jaeger
Shock fused through her. “No, he’s not. Rick doesn’t do love.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“It’s true.” She nodded to underscore the point. “Rick has…issues.”
“And you don’t?”
Surprise pushed the shock away. Hurt seeped in. “Mom?”
“Don’t deny it, Abby. From the moment your father walked out everything about you changed. You went from a happy-go-lucky, laughing little girl to a somber, pseudo-adult who assumed too much responsibility entirely too fast. Overnight you forced yourself to grow up, emotionally. And because of it you’ve erected a giant wall over your heart. Don’t think, because I was out working and not around you twenty-four/seven, I didn’t notice you never dated. You never went to prom or even out to a movie with anyone who wasn’t related to you. It was as if you didn’t want any boy to hurt you like your father had.”
Abby tried to pull her hands out of her mother’s.
Hannah held on fast. “You’ve never allowed yourself to fall in love with any man.”
Anger pushed her to say the words she’d never thought to utter. “You were in love with Daddy, and look where that got you. Alone. Abandoned. Homeless. Penniless. ”
It was as if she’d slapped her. Hannah’s chin shot up and back, her eyes glazing over with heat as she stared at her daughter.
Shame washed through Abby’s anger. “I-I’m…sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Hannah said. She pulled her hands from her daughter’s and took a step back. “It’s how you feel. How you’ve always felt, so don’t deny it now.”
“Mom—”
“No, Abby. I know what you’ve always thought about me. How ashamed you were I let him treat me like he did.”
“No, Mom—”
Hannah wouldn’t let her speak. “I won’t apologize for loving my husband despite what he was. And I wouldn’t take back that love for a moment, because it gave me my girls. For that, if for no other reason, I’m okay with what happened. It made me a better woman. Stronger.”
“You deserved better.”
She shrugged. “I can’t change it and wouldn’t if I could. Everything we went through brought us to this moment, right now.” Hannah stepped toward her again and grabbed her hands back. Hands, Abby was surprised to find, shaking. “I’m proud of who you are, Abigail. Of who and what you’ve become. I know you give everything you have in you to help others, but I worry, in doing so much for so many other people, you’ve denied yourself the one thing you deserve above all else. To be loved, really loved and adored, by a man like Rick Bannerman.”
“Rick’s not that man, Mom.” She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor. “Despite what you think, he’s not. He won’t let himself be. He has his reasons, and no, I won’t tell you what they are. But understand, he doesn’t love me. He can’t.”
“You go ahead and believe what you want to believe,” Hannah offered. With a final squeeze, she let go, turned and added, “Let’s get you out of here. I know how much you dislike hospitals.”
In the hallway, they found Rick leaning against one wall, his eyes closed, his arms crossed over his chest.
Deep lines fell from the corners of his mouth to his chin, and his face looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight for some time. His eyes flew open and trained straight on her, and in one fluid motion, he pushed off the wall and came to them. “You ready to hit the road?”
She nodded.
He grabbed the bag Hannah had packed with Abby’s sundries. A nurse met them at the station and explained she needed to exit the hospital in a wheelchair.
“Seriously, I can walk,” Abby said.
“I’m sorry, but it’s policy,” the nurse said, not sounding one bit sorry.
“Do as you’re told, Abigail,” Rick whispered at her ear. The warmth of his breath against her skin sent a shudder of longing sliding down her spine. “The faster you do, the faster you’re out of here.”
At the curb, Rick left mother and daughter while he went to get his car.
Not wanting any bad feelings with her mother to continue, Abby said, “Mom, I’m sorry for saying what I did.”
“Don’t ever apologize for your feelings, Abby. God knows I never have.”
“I do love you. And I respect everything you’ve gone through all these years. I never say it to you, and Kandy is forever telling me I should. She’s right. You’re the strongest woman I know, and despite what you think, I am proud of you. Of all you did and sacrificed to keep us together. I know how hard it was for you.”
“I don’t need your thanks, baby. I did it because I loved you all and didn’t want to lose you.”
“I love you, too. Please, don’t ever forget that.”
Rick arrived with the car, and once Abby was seat belted in, she waved at her mother.
“I’ll call you later,” Hannah mouthed as the car pulled away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Your little girl has missed you something fierce, young lady,” Mrs. Carney told Abby after kissing her cheek.
To prove the old woman’s words, the cat spiraled around Abby’s calves in a flutter of figure eights, her raspy cries louder than usual.
“Oh, baby, I can’t bend to pick you up yet.”
“Here.” Rick reached down, hoisted the cat into his arms, then gave her over.
“I missed you, too,” she cooed over the cat’s purrs.
“Well, you’re home now and that’s what matters.” Mrs. Carney smiled. To Rick she cocked her head and regarded him with an eye rake across his face. “You, young man, look a great deal better than the last time I saw you.”
Abby’s eyes rose while she cuddled the cat to her face. “Oh?”
“My goodness, I thought he’d been the one shot,” her neighbor stated with a shake of her head and a wide grin. “Never saw a man so pale in my life. And shaking like a curtain in a breeze with worry about you, dear. Hollering left and right for someone to take care of you, for someone to help you. I was afraid while the EMTs were working on you, they’d need to switch to him.”
Abby watched the tips of Rick’s ears pinken.
“I thought he was going to carry you to the hospital himself when they didn’t move fast enough.”
Rock cleared his throat. “She was shot, Mrs. Carney.” To Abby he added, “Time was of the essence.”
“Almost came to blows at one point.” Mrs. Carney smiled when Rick’s face turned the same color as his ears. “Well, now you’re home, and all is well. I’ll let you get some rest, my dear.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Carney, for taking care of Moonlight.”
“Don’t even think twice about it.” The old woman ran a finger under the cat’s vibrating neck. “She’s a love. And I fed her about an hour ago, so she should be good for a while.”
Abby kissed the woman’s cheek.
With one last finger swipe across Moonlight, Mrs. Carney waddled back to her own apartment.
Rick closed and locked the door behind her, then turned to Abby. “You should rest,” he said, dipping his hands in his pockets. “You must be exhausted. I can go get the bed ready for you.”
“I’m sick of resting.” With Moonlight in her arms, Abby looked over the cat’s head at him.
He seemed…nervous. Of what, though?
“Well, are you thirsty? I can make tea. Hungry?” he asked, moving into the kitchen. “Kandy dropped by last night and”—he pulled open the refrigerator door—“stocked you up until the zombie apocalypse occurs.”
“Not thirsty or hungry, either.”
Then it dawned on her. The reason for his nerves. He was probably trying to find a subtle way to leave her now, since she didn’t need him around any longer. His job was done. She was safe and secure in her own home. He wanted to get her all settled before he left, because of course he wanted to leave. Get back to his life.
But she didn’t want to be settled, and…she didn’t want him to leave
.
He lifted his gaze to her. “No? Okay. Want to watch a movie, then? I can get you all set up with a blanket and some pillows on the couch. That way—”
“Rick, stop. Just…stop. I’m fine.”
“I know you are, but I want to make sure you’re comfortable and not taxing yourself or doing something that’ll rip your stitches out. You’re still only a few days post-op.”
“Right. Listen, you don’t have to do anything, get me any food, or set me up. I’m okay. Really.”
His brows pulled together in the midline, and he cocked his head at her as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “I’ve been officially discharged and given the go-ahead to get back to my life, even go back to work.”
“Yeah, about that. I don’t think it’s such a hot idea. I think you need a few more days to rest and recoup. You can work from home. Verna can bring you stuff, or I can go down to your office and get it for you.”
“Since you’re not my doctor, I’m gonna have to listen to the guy who is on this one point. Thanks anyway.”
His response was to frown at her.
Gingerly, she settled down on the couch with Moonlight still in her arms.
Rick bounded from the kitchen and was able to grab her arm and guide her down before she took a full breath. “Take it easy. I heard the surgeon tell you to brace yourself when you want to sit down or get up.”
“Holding Moonlight is bracing enough,” she told him.
Rick shoved a cushion behind her back.
“Enough,” she said a tad harsher than she’d planned. “I don’t need you fidgeting and poking around me, bringing me tea or fluffing my pillows. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that already. I’m wondering why you keep repeating it. Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
Abby took a cleansing breath to quell her tangled emotions. She knew he wanted to leave, get back to his own life. Some sense of duty kept him hovering over her, though, and it was starting to really annoy her.
“I don’t need convincing,” she said, stroking Moonlight’s neck as the cat settled in across her thighs. “I’m a little battered and bruised, but bruises heal. I can get around without any help; I simply have to take it slow for the first few days.”
Rich shrugged. “So we’re on the same page here.”
“No, we’re not.”
“The hell does that mean?”
“Look, Bannerman, I know what you’re trying to do, and I want you to know it’s okay. You don’t need to do this. I’m a big girl. I was taking care of myself long before you muscled your way in here.”
He dropped his chin and glared down his nose at her so intently, the need to squirm shot through her. She held herself in check, though.
“Don’t need to do what?”
“Stick around any longer.”
When he didn’t respond, she added, “I’m safe now, so I don’t need your professional services anymore.”
“My services.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. Remember why you originally burst into my life? Because you and Josh both thought I needed to be protected from a threat?”
“And you did, despite that innate stubbornness of yours. ”
Why did the man have to be so snippy?
“Well, yes, I did. I admit it. Now. But the threat has been eliminated, so you’re free to go.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“There’s no need to shout, Abigail. I can hear you.”
Good Lord, the man was trying on the soul.
“Then why are you being so thick about this? You know what I’m saying, what I mean, and yet you’re treating me like I’m not making any sense.”
“Because you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. I’m telling you it’s okay for you to go. To leave me alone again. Your job is done. You can go back to your regular life. To your nutritionally unsound takeout meals and junk-food-eating ways. To your cold, bare apartment. To the solitary lifestyle you so worship and desire.”
If Moonlight hadn’t taken that moment to dig her claws into Abby’s thighs, she would never have noticed the hysterical pitch her voice had risen to.
As quickly as she started, she stopped. Heat flew up her neck, burning her cheeks. Abby cast her gaze down to her cat, appalled when her vision blurred from the developing tears in her eyes.
Oh, God, she couldn’t cry in front of him. Wouldn’t. She dug down deep for control, but it wouldn’t come.
The silence in the room was deafening. Even a normally noisy Moonlight was quiet. The only sound was the depth of Abby’s labored breathing.
“Abigail, look at me.”
She kept her eyes on her cat.
Rick chucked a finger under her chin and lifted. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
When she finally did, a single tear escaped down her cheek.
Rick caught it with his finger. “Abby.”
She didn’t even feel him move, but in the next instant he lifted her onto his lap. Moonlight grunted and jumped down to the floor.
That one falling tear made it easier for the rest of them to break free. With one arm circled around her waist, the other tossed over her thighs, Rick held her in place, her head dropped to his shoulder, tears wetting his shirt. He let her cry it out, murmuring soothing words against her hair, rubbing his hands over her, trying to comfort.
His ministrations only served to make her more miserable. She wanted him to stay. Tonight, tomorrow, and for as long as she could make him. Which was the problem, she realized at last. She didn’t want to make him stay. She wanted him to stay of his own accord, because he wanted to.
For the first time in her life, she’d opened her heart to a man. And it was dumb luck it was to a man who didn’t believe in love, who couldn’t accept how worthy he was of it.
Great going, Abby.
“I’m sorry,” she said when the tears were spent.
“Don’t be. The way I figure it you’ve been storing those up for a long while. You deserve a good cry.”
“I hate crying. It serves no purpose at all.”
“I’ll have to disagree, Abigail.” She lifted her head to stare up at him. A whisper of humor danced on his twisted lips when she squinted at him. “It got you in my arms again. I’ve missed you being there these past few days.”
“Rick, stop.” Abby pushed back against Rick’s hold. If her purpose had been to pull away from it, she was prevented when his hands tightened their hold. “You don’t have to do this anymore.”
“What? Hold you? I’ll have to disagree again, because it’s become one of my favorite pastimes.”
“Stop. No. This whole protective thing you do. I’m not in danger anymore, so you can dial it back. Nothing’s going to happen to me. You’re clear to leave now.”
“I know.”
“Okay, then.” She started to shift off his lap again, but Rick didn’t let her. “Let me up.”
“No.”
“What?”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Stop arguing like a two-year-old and let me up.” She slapped at his hands.
“What if I don’t want to leave? What if I want to stay right where I am? Here, with you?”
Abby stopped squirming. For a moment she stopped breathing.
He wanted to stay? But…why?
“I don’t understand,” she managed to say, when she could breathe again. “The bad guys are in jail, and I don’t need protecting anymore. Why wouldn’t you want to go?”
“Is that what you want? For me to leave?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no. She hesitated, though, still not sure of his intent.
“Abby?”
When in doubt, deflect. “I’m confused.”
His response was to lift his eyebrows.
Damn the man. Why couldn’t he simply respond the way he was supposed to?
“Answer my question,” he said a moment later
. “Do you want me to leave?”
She lifted a shoulder in lieu of responding. When she lifted her gaze to his, there was something floating in his eyes she never in a million years thought to see in such a cocky, confident man—vulnerability.
It dawned on her right then, maybe, just maybe, he was asking her if she wanted him to stay, not because it was his duty, but—could it be?—because he wanted to and was uncertain of her feelings on the matter?
“Let’s say, hypothetically,” she began, “I didn’t. Even though the threats to me are gone and you no longer need to prance about in protection mode, I still felt the…let’s say need for you to stick around. What would you think and/or do if presented with that information?”
If she hadn’t been focused on his face, she would have missed the lightning flash of joy zipping across his gaze.
As quick as it came, Rick banked it, his lids going to half-mast as his mouth pulled into a questioning line. “Define need, Counselor.”
Abby swallowed. With a careless flip of her hand, she replied, “Require. Demand. Desire. Whatever. You fill in the adjective.”
That questioning line morphed into a one-sided grin, then lifted to the other side. In heartbeat, it changed to a wide, twin-cheek dimpled, panty-wetting smile that had her pressing her knees together.
“Okay,” he said, winding both of his hands around her waist and pulling her a fraction closer. “Let’s go with the hypothesis that you don’t necessarily require my professional services any longer, but you desire me to stick around. What, hypothetically speaking, would that entail?”
“Well…” Abby licked her lips and shifted a tiny bit closer to him. “You’re really good at laundry.”
“I am.” He tightened his grip.
“That’s very helpful. And you’re a great re-heater. I guess that’s because you eat a lot of leftovers from your takeout obsession.”
“So, laundry and dinner prep. Check. What else?”
“Um, well, Moonlight likes you, so I guess we could share feeding and caring for her.”
At the mention of her name, the cat glanced up from her position on the carpet where she was cleaning herself. With her one good back leg up in the air, propped on her hindquarters for support and her tongue sticking out midway to another lick, she squinted at them, blinked, and then meowed loudly before going back to her ablutions.