Don't Cry for Me (3 page)

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Authors: Sharon Sala

BOOK: Don't Cry for Me
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“Ready when you are,” he said.

She took a deep breath and then a first step. Her body was stiff, but as soon as she began to move, it became easier.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost two in the afternoon. Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“We’ll get something to eat before we leave here,” he said.

“I have some money,” Mariah said.

“That makes two of us, and we’ll be using mine,” he said, as he opened the door for her.

She gave him a look, which he ignored.

Quinn paused at the counter and asked the clerk, “Which way to the bathrooms?”

The clerk pointed.

Quinn slid his hand under Mariah’s elbow as they moved in that direction and then into the small hallway at the back of the store. Two doors faced each other. When Mariah tried to go into the women’s bathroom, she discovered that the door was locked.

“Somebody’s in there,” she said. “I’ll wait.”

Quinn reluctantly left her standing there as he went into the men’s room.

She leaned against the wall to take the weight off her bad leg and waited for the door to open. It didn’t take long for her to realize there was more than one person in there, and they seemed to be having a good time, which was weird. She could hear laughing and talking, and an occasional thud, like one of them had bumped against a wall. She’d had fun in a lot of places, but a Quick Mart bathroom wasn’t one of them.

A couple of minutes later Quinn came out, and when he saw that she was still leaning against the wall, he frowned.

“Are you still waiting?” he asked.

She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Sounds like a party going on in there.”

He moved toward the door, then stopped as if he’d just been punched.

“I smell smoke,” he muttered.

She nodded.

He leaned closer. “No. I smell pot.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Suddenly he doubled up his fist and began pounding on the door.

“Police! Open up!”

The clerk up at the front jumped off his stool and ran to the end of the counter to see what was going on, while inside the bathroom the sounds of squeals and shrieks grew louder, followed by a sudden flushing and a lot of running water.

“Open up!” Quinn yelled again, pounding harder.

The door swung inward. Two teenage girls came stumbling out of the bathroom. They took one look at Quinn and then stopped.

“Hey. You don’t look like the police.”

“I lied, and smoking weed will rot your brains,” he muttered, and pulled them out of the doorway so Mariah could go inside.

She was struggling not to laugh as she shut and locked the door. The bathroom smelled like the back room of a bar she knew down in Lexington, but at least it was finally vacant. By the time she came out, the girls were long gone and Quinn was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

She grinned.

Quinn looked her up and down, then slowly smiled, like he was trying her on for size and had decided she was a fit.

“Corn dogs, burritos or overdone chicken strips are in the deli case,” he said.

She wrinkled her nose. “Do they have any cans of Vienna sausages in the grocery section?”

His smile widened. “Why yes, I believe they do. What would you like to go with them?”

“A dill pickle, crackers and a Pepsi.”

“I am so remembering why we clicked,” Quinn drawled.

Mariah rolled her eyes. “And all this time I thought it was about my boobs.”

He laughed out loud. “For that, you also get dessert.”

“A Butterfinger? I haven’t eaten a Butterfinger candy bar in forever.”

“You can have anything you want. Do you want to go back to the car to wait, or are you still okay?”

“I’m okay, but I’ll wait up at the counter and let you do the shopping.”

Quinn hesitated, then touched her cheek. “I am so sorry this has happened to you, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again.”

Mariah shrugged. “Just wait until I come unglued on you, then see if you still feel the same.”

He frowned. “We’re all fucked, woman. It’s how we came back. Doesn’t mean I’m ready to quit living.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you still have—”

He interrupted. “Let’s get our stuff and get back on the road. We can talk later.”

It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about himself any more than she wanted to admit what was going on inside her head.

Instead of making her worry, it was oddly reassuring.

“Don’t forget my pickle,” she said.

“I won’t,” he said, and then held out his hand. “I didn’t forget anything about you.”

Mariah took it gratefully to steady herself. “Everything I remember is in a jumble in my head.”

“It will get better,” Quinn said. “I promise. However, all you have to remember today is who you’re going home with, and that’s me. Let’s go get the grub so we can get back on the road.”

* * *

 

The remnants of their meal were in a sack between Mariah’s feet. She’d fallen asleep in the front seat with a half-eaten Butterfinger in her hand, pickle juice on the front of her shirt and tears on her face. A muscle jerked in his jaw as he shifted his gaze back to the road. He could imagine what was going through her head, but he couldn’t fix it. At this point all he could do was keep driving, because he wasn’t going to wake her.

The next time she woke up, Quinn was slowing down again. When he took a turn off the highway onto a two-lane blacktop road, she sat up, wincing as stiff muscles complained.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Pretty close to home. Welcome to Rebel Ridge,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yeah. Are you okay? Do you want to lie down in the back again? This has been a hell of a ride for you today.”

“I’m okay.”

“We’ll be at my brother’s house in about fifteen minutes. You can stretch your legs and go to the bathroom there before we head up to my place.”

“How far is it to your place from there?”

“About an hour.”

Mariah looked up through the windshield, but all she could see was a winding road disappearing into the thickly growing trees. She was used to cities and people. Even when she’d been deployed, there were always lots of people around. This was definitely out of her comfort zone.

“This is a really big mountain, isn’t it?”

Quinn nodded. “It’s very quiet where I live. No sirens. No neighbors to hear me freak out in my sleep…just the critters and me.”

“Critters?”

“Raccoon, owls, deer and the occasional coyote, but nothing scary, honey.”

“I’m not afraid of anything on four legs,” she muttered, then sat for a moment, absorbing the concept of that much peace and quiet. The longer she thought about it, the calmer she became. Then she looked up at Quinn.

“It sounds like heaven.”

“We’re high enough up that I’d say we’re pretty darn close.”

Three

 

R
yal was in his woodworking shop staining a special order dining table when he heard Beth calling his name. He dropped the brush into a container of paint thinner and stepped outside. She was standing on the porch with their puppy, Rufus, at her side and Sarah on her hip, pointing toward their driveway.

He saw Beth’s SUV coming up the road and waved to let her know that he’d seen it, then headed toward the house at a jog. They would finally get to meet the guy who’d saved Quinn’s life.

When he reached the porch, Beth was grinning.

“What?” he asked.

“Look in the front seat,” she said. “And whatever you do, don’t make a fuss.”

Ryal turned. “Why would I…? I’ll be damned! He’s a
she!

Well aware of how the Walker brothers teased each other, Beth felt obligated to repeat herself. “Ryal! Do not make an issue out of this, especially in front of her. You don’t know what she’s been through or what condition she’s in. Understand?”

He tweaked her nose and then winked. “I’m not completely dense. Of course I understand,” he said, then jumped off the porch and went to meet them with Rufus at his heels.

* * *

 

Quinn was trying to see Ryal’s house from the perspective of a stranger, rather than a kid who’d grown up inside those walls, wondering what Mariah would think. Granted, Ryal had done some remodeling with the wraparound porch and a fresh coat of white paint after their parents moved out, but it was still a mountain house, simple in style and size. The fact that his brother was a master carpenter didn’t hurt, though, and since Beth had come to live there, the landscaping had taken on a softer, more feminine look. Flowers local to the area had been planted along both sides of the rock walk leading up to the house, and the bushes were trimmed, rather than allowed to grow wild.

He sneaked a glance at Mariah, trying to judge what she thought, and was surprised to see a slight smile on her face.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She pointed toward the house, and the man and puppy coming down the walk.

“Your brother looks like you.”

“Yeah, I guess he does. You can pretty much always find the Walkers in a crowd. We’re all pretty tall.”

Mariah’s eyes widened. “There are more of you?”

“Ryal and Beth have a daughter, Sarah, who’s a little over a year and a half. I have another brother, James, and his wife, Julie, and their two kids. And there’s my sister, Margaret—but we call her Meg—our mom, Dolly, and a whole lot of cousins.”

She couldn’t imagine. “It must be a good feeling to know who your people are and where you come from.”

“I’m ashamed to say I never thought about it, just took it and them for granted. But it
is
exceedingly good to know there are people who have your back,” Quinn said.

All expression was gone from her face, and he hated that he’d caused her one moment of pain. He reached for her hand.

“I have your back, Conrad. We all do. If you don’t believe it now, you will in the days to come.”

Mariah was saved from having to answer as Quinn pulled to a stop.

“Sit tight. I’ll help you,” he said, and quickly circled the car.

A cool breeze flowed past her as he opened the door. Mariah took his hand as he helped her out, then stood for a moment to get her bearings.

“Hey, brother, you made good time,” Ryal said, as Beth came down the walk behind him, carrying Sarah.

Quinn didn’t bother with chitchat. He knew they were surprised and curious, but he wasn’t going there, and the sooner they figured that out, the better.

“Ryal, Beth, this is Mariah Conrad. Mariah, my brother Ryal and his wife, Beth. The cutie Beth is holding is Sarah, and this very shy pup is Rufus.”

Mariah pushed a shaky hand through her hair and grinned at the puppy, who was licking everybody’s shoes.

“Nice to meet you. Thanks for loaning Quinn your car. It made the trip a lot easier for me.”

“We’re the ones who should be thanking you for saving Quinn’s life,” Ryal said. “He can be a pain in the ass, but we were grateful to get him home in one piece.”

Mariah was surprised that Quinn had credited her with his rescue.

“I wasn’t the only one there,” she said.

“You’re the only one I remember,” Quinn said.

Beth handed Sarah to Ryal and slipped an arm through the crook of Mariah’s elbow. “Why don’t you come into the house with me while they switch stuff from one vehicle to the other? It’ll give you time to freshen up and stretch your legs for a bit.”

Mariah glanced at Quinn. “Do we have time?”

“We have all the time you need,” Quinn said.

Beth led Mariah into the house at a leisurely pace, while Ryal and Quinn transferred things from the SUV to Quinn’s Jeep.

“You neglected to mention that Conrad was a girl,” Ryal said.

“And now you know,” Quinn said, as he transferred the quilt and pillows into the backseat of the Jeep.

“She really saved your life?” Ryal said.

“Pulled my ass out of a burning building.”

Ryal glanced toward the house. “She must be one tough lady.”

“As tough as she needs to be,” Quinn said, and tossed her duffel bag between the seats. “Did you get the stuff on my list?”

“Yes. Beth and I have already been to your place, made up the bed and left the rest on your kitchen table.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Did you have enough money?”

“Yes. Your change is on the table, too. So do you have any feelings toward her besides gratitude?”

Quinn turned, his face suddenly expressionless. “That’s none of your damned business. Are we clear on that?”

Ryal held up his hands. “Clear as day.”

“Good. Be sure to pass that along to the rest of the family, because I’m not going to satisfy anyone’s curiosity at the cost of her privacy.”

“Absolutely,” Ryal said.

Quinn glared. “You’re grinning.”

“Am I not supposed to?”

“Not unless something is funny,” Quinn snapped.

“But you’re so damned entertaining,” Ryal said, and punched Quinn on the arm.

Quinn sighed. “Damn it, Ryal…”

“Chill out, bro. It’s all good. If you have everything transferred, come up to the house. Beth made an apple pie this afternoon. I’ll bet they’re already digging in. Here, kiss your niece hello. It’ll put you in a better mood.”

Quinn picked up the baby, kissed her soft cheek and grinned when she poked a finger up his nose, then followed Ryal into the house. The interrogation had ended, but he knew his brothers too well, and this wasn’t over. They wouldn’t stop until they were completely satisfied they knew all his business, or at least thought that they did. He just hoped they didn’t spook Mariah into thinking he had an ulterior motive, because he didn’t know why he’d done this, either. It wasn’t going to be easy living with anyone, especially someone who might have the same kind of issues he had. The fact that she didn’t remember a lot of her past was a little sad. They’d shared a lot besides sex.

“See…I told you they would be hogging all the pie,” Ryal said as they entered the kitchen.

Beth shook her head as she dished the pie onto plates. “Such a baby. There’s plenty for everyone.”

Quinn glanced at Mariah. She was quiet but seemed at ease. Then Beth took the baby and put her down for a nap, and the moment passed.

* * *

 

Mariah was taking everything in and had learned more in the past five minutes about Quinn Walker than she’d known the entire two years of their mutual deployment. Watching him so at ease with his niece was unsettling. She was trying to picture herself that way and failing miserably. Then she made herself focus on them and not herself.

His brother’s house wasn’t elaborate, but it felt homey. The furniture was simple but beautiful. Family pictures on the walls rooted the house and its occupants in a past she would never know, and the pie Beth was cutting was like something out of a magazine. If it tasted half as good as it looked it would be amazing. She couldn’t cook worth a darn, and didn’t have a marketable skill beyond her sharpshooter medal and a better-than-average eye when it came to pinpointing liars.

Then she reminded herself that it didn’t matter, because she wouldn’t be here long enough for anyone to judge. As soon as she was able to stand on her own two feet again she would be gone. She and Quinn had a history, but nothing that had ever warranted a forever kind of bond. They’d shared a war and a bed, and that was all.

“How about that pie?” Ryal said.

“As you can see, I’m cutting it,” Beth said. “Why don’t you get the iced tea out of the refrigerator and make yourself useful?”

Ryal grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “He’s not usually this malleable. I think he’s just showing off for company.”

Mariah’s leg was throbbing. She needed some of her pain meds but was embarrassed to ask. When Beth put the pie on the table, Quinn scooted a piece toward her and handed her a fork. She took a bite and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, my gosh, this is good,” Mariah said.

Beth grinned. “It’s a recipe my Granny Lou gave me. She’s the best cook in the family.”

“Lou Venable is the best cook in both families,” Quinn said, then added for Mariah’s sake, “We’re actually distant cousins to the Venables, who happen to be Beth’s family, too.”

Mariah didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “You two are related?”

Ryal nodded. “We’re very distant cousins, which is not all that unusual on Rebel Ridge, although we all grew up knowing each other. Not a lot of people ever move off the mountain, and those who do usually wind up coming back. What about your family? Where are they from?”

“I have no idea,” Mariah said. “I was an abandoned baby who grew up in a series of foster families. Aging out of the system at eighteen means a kid like me winds up on the streets. I needed to belong somewhere, so I joined the army in the hopes of learning a trade and ignored the fact that we were already in a war.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ryal said. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t apologize. I don’t want anyone to cry for me. It is what it is, and Quinn already knew all this, which I assume is why he offered to babysit me through the rest of my healing.” She wouldn’t look at Quinn, couldn’t look for fear she would see pity, and that was something she couldn’t bear—not from him. “I am unbelievably grateful, but I can’t promise to be the ideal houseguest. My memory’s shot, and my leg is a mess.”

“But you’re alive,” Beth said. “And trust me, I know how to appreciate that more than most. But that’s enough serious stuff for now. Who wants ice cream on their pie?”

“I do,” Ryal said.

“Well, we all knew that,” Quinn drawled. “The only person in the family who eats more than Ryal is James.”

Mariah smiled and held out her plate. “I’ve been eating hospital food for two months. I won’t turn down ice cream.”

Beth doled out the ice cream, and for a few minutes conversation was sparse. As soon as they finished eating, Quinn carried their dirty plates to the sink.

“Thanks for the loan of the car and for helping out, but we need to get moving.”

Then he glanced at Mariah. Her hands were curled into fists and the knuckles were white.
Damn it. How had he let her get that bad without noticing?
He walked over to where she was sitting and leaned down.

“How bad are you hurting?”

“Enough.”

“The doctor gave you pain pills. Where did you pack them?”

“They’re in the outside pocket of my bag, the one with the zipper, not the snap.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Beth turned just as Quinn walked out. She started to ask where he was going, then saw the pain on Mariah’s face and guessed what was happening. She got a glass of water, then took it to the table and sat down beside her.

“I’m so sorry. Here we were acting like this was a party, and you just got out of the hospital. Why didn’t you say something?” she asked as she set the glass in front of Mariah.

“It just started getting bad a few minutes ago,” Mariah said.

Beth touched the top of Mariah’s head, then the side of her face. “You don’t have to hide how you feel from us. We don’t judge, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Mariah said, then breathed a sigh of relief when Quinn came back.

“Here,” he said, and dropped two pills into her outstretched palm.

Mariah downed them quickly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Do you need to go to the bathroom before we leave? Like I said, it’s about an hour to the cabin.”

“I guess,” she said, but when she tried to stand, her leg went out from under her. Quinn grabbed her before she fell. “Damn it!” she muttered.

“I got you,” he said, and slipped an arm around her waist to walk her down the hall to the bathroom door.

“Can you make it from here?”

There were tears in her eyes. “Yes. Just wait for me.”

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