Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (23 page)

“
That
is what you encouraged. Condoned.”

There was no good answer. It was true. All of it.

“Condemned your brother to.”

He felt the first stirring of anger. “I visited often. I promised I would, and I kept that promise.”

“Lucky Caleb,” she said, bitterly scathing. “What about all the other kids?
Years'
worth of other kids?”

“I lived with the Hales for three years. I know what kind of people they are. They saved a lot of kids.”

“Every one who came to them?”

There was no doubt she could see the answer on his face.

He tried one more defense. “Have
you
saved all the kids who came to you?” The question came out sharper than he'd intended, and no sooner had he spoken than he realized how unintentionally cruel he'd been. She hadn't been able to save the one child who meant the most to her: her own sister. And she would never forgive herself, despite the absurdity of a six-year-old child taking responsibility for protecting anyone else. “I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm sorry,” he said roughly.

Anna only shook her head and backed away. “I thought at least we were friends.”

“We were.” Desperation swept through him. “We are. Anna—”

Tears ran down her cheeks. She took an angry swipe at them, turned and walked away. Her walk became faster and faster until she was almost running by the time she disappeared from sight.

Reid dropped into the chair again, feeling as if he'd been shot.

I love her. I would do anything—

He buried his face in his hands. Anything. Like tell unforgivable lies.

Anna, Anna.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A
NNA
WENT
HOME
.

She didn't tell anyone where she was going. She didn't let herself worry about whether Diego might need her. She couldn't imagine going to work tomorrow. What would she do? Lie, like he had? Claim to be sick?

I
am
sick.

At first she did nothing but sit on her sofa and stare at the wall, remembering every lie Reid had ever told her. Every flickering expression that crossed his face when he told those lies.

He hadn't known her. Not well enough to realize what those particular lies would mean to her.

I don't have to be fair.

No, she didn't. She wouldn't be. She was
obligated
to report the Hales. How could she not, even knowing what that would do to Reid?

She was hugging herself for warmth when it occurred to her she hadn't adjusted the thermostat. It took her another five minutes to make herself get up and do it, then grab a fleece throw from the back of a chair to wrap around herself. A cup of tea would be nice but...would take more effort than she had to give.

Inevitably, her mind started clicking again, starting with a slide show. All Reid.

The man she'd first met, who was so good at hiding what he felt, she'd wondered if he
did
feel anything. The smiles he began letting loose. The thousand other emotions he'd let her see since.

And she remembered how much he
had
told her, even as he kept secrets. His wretched childhood, his bafflement over how to reach the brother he hadn't known he had. His clumsy attempts to create a relationship she could see he craved, for all he didn't want to need it—or to let anyone else see what he must believe was a weakness. His honesty the night they first had sex.
Made love.
She couldn't imagine he'd ever revealed as much to anyone. The tenderness and passion he'd given her since, not easy for him, but a part of the man nonetheless. His cold anger at his father. His terror when he heard about the accident. The awful look in his eyes every time he came out of the ICU after sitting at Caleb's side.

The even worse look in his eyes when she backed away, rejecting even his touch.

I love him,
she thought miserably.
I threw him away.

I think he might love me.

Oh, dear God. Was she really going to let the horror of Molly's death justify a loveless life?

Curled in a tight ball on her sofa, Anna didn't know. Had no idea how to let go of the guilt and anger and grief that had made her who she was. Or even if she wanted to let go.

* * *

W
EARY
TO
THE
BONE
,
Reid still made himself drive back out to the shelter that evening. When he walked in, all the boys except TJ were in the main room. Heads turned, and he saw that the sight of him scared them.
As it should,
he thought bleakly. He had a feeling their reaction had more to do with how he looked than with recent events.

Paula emerged from the kitchen, her eyes locking on Reid. “Boys.” She spoke sharply enough to gain their attention. “Time to say good-night. Everyone to their cabins.”

Except for a few minor grumbles, they complied, shooting backward glances until they were all gone.

“TJ?” he asked.

“Upstairs. Do you need to talk to him?”

“No. You and Roger.”

“He's—” They both heard the back door open and close again. “That'll be him,” Paula said with relief.

Now he was scaring her, too.

“Just taking a walk around,” Roger said on seeing Reid, who suggested they sit down.

They chose the table closest to the kitchen and the farthest from the stairwell. Reid would rather TJ didn't hear what he had to say.

“Your cover is blown,” he said bluntly. “We expected it would be once Sergeant Renner caught up to Haveman, if he's our guy. But it's happened sooner than we expected.”

Roger looked stoic, Paula stricken.

“Diego tried, but he let enough slip—” No, damn it, he would not lay the blame elsewhere. “When I spoke to Anna Grant, the social worker for Angel's Haven who is trying to place Diego in a foster home, I told her the whole story. I think she'll report you.”

Neither said a word for a long time. Finally Roger bent his head. “I told you to use your judgment.”

“She was...angry,” Reid said with difficulty. He told them enough of her story for them to understand. “It doesn't help that I've been, uh, seeing her.” Sleeping with her. Falling in love with her. “Talking to her about Caleb, but telling a pack of lies, too. The fact that this is personal for her may not help your cause. I'm sorry,” he said simply.

“No.” Paula's gaze had never left his face. To his shock, she reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “
I'm
sorry, Reid. If we're responsible for damaging a relationship that meant something to you...”

“My fault.” He couldn't keep the bleakness from his voice. “Doesn't matter.”

“It does.”

He only shook his head.

They were all silent for a time again. Roger was the one to speak up.

“Should we try to find places for the boys to go?”

“I can't advise you on that. None of this will help my career, but actively involving myself now in any action you take to hide the boys would cross a line. I can't.”

Both nodded.

“But if you want my advice?”

“Of course we do,” Paula said warmly.

“Then I'd sit tight. What I can and will do when it all comes out is my damnedest to defend and support you.
And
to make sure these boys' stories are heard. My guess is you can count on Sergeant Renner, too. I don't think any of the boys will be returned to their former homes. And, for all that she's angry at me, I know Anna will fight for your kids.”

A nerve twitched beneath Roger's eye. Paula abruptly bent her head to hide her face.

God damn.
This was hard. Reid felt as if he was betraying them, as he'd betrayed Anna and maybe Caleb, too.

“I need to get back to the hospital,” he said. “Caleb was looking a little more active. Twitching. Even moving a little.”

“That's good news,” Roger said heavily.

“I hope so.” He flattened his hands on the table to shove himself up, then stood for a minute, feeling as if each foot was encased in cement. Actually walking out felt beyond him.

Caleb,
he reminded himself.

“I'll keep you informed,” he said, nodded a good-night and left.

* * *

W
AKING
AND
SLEEPING
were versions of the same nightmare.

Reid had asked permission to stay with Caleb, and the latest doctor had okayed it. Caleb was struggling toward consciousness, and nobody liked the idea of him waking to unfamiliar people on top of an alien environment.

He was no longer on oxygen, but was still wired for monitoring. His slightest movement caused beeping and a wild disarrangement of one of the squiggly green lines that ran across a screen. The beating of Caleb's heart became part of Reid's waking and sleeping dreams, along with visions of Anna's face while she told him about her sister.

He killed my little sister.

Reid wondered how. He'd seen enough bodies of young children to be able to envision too many possibilities, all graphic. God, had six-year-old Anna seen it happen? Discovered her sister's body afterward?

Promises meant everything to Anna.

He hadn't made one to her. He hadn't broken a promise. Not to her, not to anyone. Reid didn't ever remember making a promise beyond the most casual, the “I'll call this afternoon” variety, until Caleb had come along.

Didn't matter whether there had ever been an explicit promise, Reid realized. He had known how much Anna would disapprove of what the Hales were doing. No, he hadn't known why, but his gut had told him she had a powerful and very personal reason. He'd lied anyway, because what else could he do?

By morning, he felt like hell. His neck was stiff and his skin grimy. Yesterday morning's shower and shave were a distant memory. He clenched his teeth against the jab of another memory, that of Anna sleeping in his bed, nestled in the middle because she'd been cuddled up to him until he'd eased himself away. That had been yesterday morning, too.

He stood and stretched until his bones cracked, after which his eyes focused on his brother, who lay quietly as if sleeping. The swelling that had made half his face grotesque had noticeably gone down. No, the sleep wasn't peaceful, he saw then—there was a lot of activity going on beneath Caleb's eyelids. Dreams? Or a semiconscious battle?

“I'm still here,” he said quietly. He gripped his brother's hand again. “You're in the hospital, Caleb. I'm going to feel one hell of a lot better when you open your eyes and say my name.”

The movement under the boy's eyelids intensified, even seeming agitated. His lashes fluttered—and his eyes opened. He closed them as quickly, opened them again, but squinting this time. Well, on his good side—on the battered side of his face, the remaining swelling allowed barely a squint anyway. What Reid could see of his eyes looked...blank.

Feeling a thrill of fear, Reid said, “Caleb?”

That uncomprehending gaze very slowly turned to him. And then his brother's misshapen mouth twisted into what might have been a stab at a smile. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. His tongue touched chapped lips. Finally, he formed a word. “Reid.”

“You heard me.”

The mouth formed another word, almost silent. “Yes.”

“God.” Reid dropped like a stone onto the bedside chair. “You scared the crap out of me. You've been unconscious for damn near two days.” He ran a shaky hand over his face. “I need to let the nurse know you're awake. Hold on there, kid. I'll be right back.”

He would have sworn Caleb said, “I know,” although he might have been mistaken.

Within moments, Caleb's bed was surrounded. Reid was banned to the waiting room for the next while. Exhilarated, he didn't mind. He walked the hall outside the unit until his muscles loosened, then took out his phone. It was early, but...he couldn't imagine anyone else had slept much better than he had.

He called Anna first. The call went to voice mail.
She might still be asleep,
he told himself, but he knew better.

“Caleb's regained consciousness. He said my name. I thought you'd want to know.” Despite the glorious relief, he became aware of the huge hollow beneath his breastbone. “Anna...will you talk to me? Will you listen?” For some reason, he waited, as if she might pick up even though he knew that was impossible.

After a minute, he touched End, then called Clay Renner, who did answer, sounding alert.

“That's good news,” he said. “Has he been able to answer questions yet?”

“No. The doctor is in with him now. They kicked me out. But he's all here, Clay.” His voice had thickened. “He said my name.”

“I'll come straight there,” the other man said kindly. “See you in fifteen.”

Paula answered the phone at the lodge and began to cry when Reid gave her the news. “Thank God,” she said. “Thank God.”

He'd barely finished that call when Clay Renner arrived, a manila folder in his hand.

“Will they let us question Caleb?” he asked.

“I don't know.” Reid rasped a hand over his jaw. “If he's up to it, I don't know why they wouldn't.”

Renner eyed him. “I've got an electric shaver in my glove compartment. You want to borrow it?”

A reluctant grin broke on Reid's face. “That bad?”

“Some people look good with stubble. You're not one of 'em.”

It felt good to laugh. “Yeah, if you wouldn't mind. I itch.”

Nobody had emerged from ICU to summon Reid before Renner returned with the razor. Reid headed to the nearest restroom, laid out paper towels to catch the whiskers and shaved. When he was done, he eyed himself, not sure the whole picture had improved. The lack of sleep showed. His hair, never cooperative, was doing strange things. He wet it down and tried to smooth it, but wasn't sure he hadn't made matters worse. With a shrug, he gave up, tossed the wadded paper towels and went out to join Renner.

“They're ready for us.”

For some reason, Reid's heart gave one hard beat. He didn't know why.

The doctor cleared everyone out of Caleb's cubicle when Renner and Reid went back. His brother's eyes were closed, giving Reid another brief scare, but when he said, “You awake?” and touched his hand, Caleb looked at him.

“Hey.” He sounded a little better. A cup of ice chips sat on the bedside table, so maybe just moistening his mouth had helped.

Reid introduced Renner, who smiled. “Glad to see you looking a lot better,” he said.

Caleb slowly lifted the hand that the IV was inserted into and gingerly touched the damaged side of his face. “Yeah?”

Renner's smile widened. “Didn't say you looked good. Just better.”

Caleb laughed and then winced. His gaze turned to Reid. “Shaved.”

He rubbed his chin. “Yeah.”

“Thought you might be growing a beard.”

“God, no.” He stood looking down at his brother, wondering how much of what he felt was on his face. “I didn't go home last night.”

“Oh.” Caleb seemed as vulnerable and uneasy about the unspoken emotions as he felt.

“Do you remember the accident?” Reid asked abruptly. “Neither Diego nor TJ saw much.”

Caleb didn't move. Reid saw him absorbing the fact that, in addition to himself, at least two other boys had now been exposed. “They're...okay?” he asked at least, cautiously.