Take Me Home (12 page)

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Authors: Nancy Herkness

BOOK: Take Me Home
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Claire sat there with the ice numbing her skin, staring at the shards of the china statue littering the rug. She knew she should get a dustpan and clean them up before the children saw them, but she couldn’t summon enough energy to move. An indistinct murmur of voices issued from the bedroom before the door opened and closed again.

Then Tim was kneeling in front of her, his eyes lit with concern. “How’s it feeling?” he asked.

“Cold,” Claire said. “It’s fine, really. Do the girls seem all right?”

“As well as can be expected. Your sister’s doing a good job of calming them down.”

“I’m really worried about their safety,” Claire said. As Tim shifted up onto the couch, it dipped under his weight. The tilt of the cushion slid her up against his big, solid body, and she let herself savor the feeling of security it gave her.

“Changing the locks might be a first step,” Tim suggested.

“I’ll suggest it to Holly.” Claire was dubious, though. Her sister seemed to be in denial about the seriousness of the situation. She slanted a glance at the man beside her. “You’re quite an actor. I thought you were going to fold Frank in half and stuff him up the chimney.”

“Fortunately, he thought so too.”

“Actually, I was terrified he would pick up a poker and slam you with it.” She suddenly remembered Frank’s comment about Tim’s wife. Should she bring up the ugly words or pretend they had never been said? She decided on an oblique approach. “Frank said some horrible things about Holly, which I know aren’t true.”

He slewed around so he could look at her. “I don’t pay much attention to what a drunk says.”

“I’m glad.” She didn’t believe him, though, because the shadows were hovering in his eyes. “Thank you so much for your help. I don’t know how I would have gotten Frank out of here without you. You were amaz—oh my God, the dinner reservations! It’s way past time. You’ll never be able to get a table there again. I feel terrible!”

“Easy, Claire,” he said, engulfing her free hand in both of his. “I’m not worried about whether I can eat at the Aerie or not.”

Milo would have been. Claire gave her head a little shake to rid herself of the thought of her ex-husband. The warmth of Tim’s hands seemed to radiate up her arm and through her body.
She could feel her nervous tension ease, even as a new set of sensations sprang to life.

She left her hand in his as she said, “I feel really guilty about dragging you into this situation, especially on a first date. It’s not quite the evening you were expecting.”

“Hey, none of that,” Tim said. He raised the back of her hand to his lips and brushed the lightest of kisses across it before releasing it.

The tender gesture sent little curls of pleasure dancing over her skin.

“Now,” he said, “we need to discuss how to keep everyone safe tonight.”

“I’m going to barricade the doors and stay here.”
Whether Holly wanted her or not
.

“I’m staying too.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I don’t recall your doing any asking.” Tim’s smile was easy, but his tone said he wasn’t budging.

“It’s not me you have to convince, anyway. It’s my sister.”

The sound of a door opening ended the debate. Claire stood up as Holly appeared. For the first time, Claire noticed her sister was wearing a dress and high heels. It infuriated her that Holly would still dress up for her creep of a husband.

“The girls and I are going to bed soon,” Holly said. “They’re going to sleep with me in the master bedroom. I’m sorry you both had to see all this, but it’s over. You can go on to dinner now.” Holly’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, dinner!”

When she started toward the kitchen, Tim held up his hand to stop her, saying, “I turned off the stove when I was making the ice packs.”

“Thanks,” Holly said, her sudden burst of energy fading so she looked pale and drained. “I was making a nice family dinner for all of us before Frank and I...”

“Before you what?” Claire prompted when Holly’s voice petered out.

“Frank came over because I wanted to talk to him about how we would tell Brianna and Kayleigh we were getting a divorce.” Holly’s eyes filled with tears. “We were going to have dinner with the girls first and then discuss how to handle our announcement after they went to bed. But he showed up drunk.”

“Holly, we have to talk,” Claire said firmly.

“Not tonight,” Holly said, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sorry, but there are certain things that can’t wait.” Claire kept her tone gentle. “We have to tell the police about Frank being violent when he’s drunk. Paul can get a restraining order first thing tomorrow. And you have to change the locks on the doors.”

“I...No, it will just make Frank angry again.” Holly sank into a chair. “He was mad tonight because I got a lawyer already. He said I was in a big hurry to get rid of him.”

“He wants to control you, even in the divorce,” Claire said. “It’s classic abusive behavior.”

Holly’s gaze skittered sideways. “I got mad too and mentioned his spending habits. That’s when he started yelling and calling me a slut.”

She looked so sad and defeated that Claire debated whether it was right to push her any more. Then she thought of Brianna’s frantic phone call. “You don’t want Brianna and Kayleigh to see another scene like this one, or even worse, do you?”

Holly gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Claire went over to kneel by her chair. “Tim and I will stay here tonight, but we have to leave in the morning. I’ll be crazy with worry, not knowing if you and the girls are safe.”

“All right.” Holly’s voice was a mere thread of a whisper.

Claire wanted to leap to her feet and pump her fist. Instead, she stretched up and touched her lips to Holly’s uninjured cheek. “Attagirl, sis. We’ll handle this together.”

As Claire straightened, Holly reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze, murmuring, “Thanks.”

“I’ll talk to the police, if you’d like,” Tim said. “The chief and I are acquainted.”

Holly nodded, and Claire mouthed her own
thank you
as Tim headed back toward the kitchen.

“I’m going to say good night to the girls,” she said, turning to head down the hallway.

The two children were huddled together under a patchwork quilt on the big bed, their curly hair wisping out of the braids hanging over the shoulders of their princess pajamas. Claire had given Holly and Frank the quilt as a wedding gift, commissioning its creator to embroider their names and the date along the border. She wondered if Frank’s name could be ripped out without damaging the fabric too badly.

“Aunt Claire!” Kayleigh shrieked, hurling herself across the bed and into Claire’s arms. “I was so scared.”

Claire shifted the little girl to her side and held out her free arm to Brianna. The older girl scooted across the quilt and snuggled in against her.

“Thanks for coming,” Brianna whispered. “I was scared too.”

“You did the right thing by calling me.” Claire watched Brianna’s face lose some of its pinched tension. She wanted to reassure the child, since she suspected Holly had reprimanded her for involving others. “It was important for me to be here tonight. I think you know that.”

Brianna nodded before she buried her face in Claire’s shoulder and began to sob. “Mama says Lauren got broken. She was my favorite Royal Doulton lady.”

“You can have Genevieve. She’s really pretty too.” Kayleigh’s little voice quavered slightly.

Tears welled up in Claire’s throat. She and Holly had done the same thing when they were young—spent hours debating which of the china ladies they each liked the best.

“No, Genevieve is yours,” Brianna said, lifting her tear-streaked face. “I’ll pick a different lady.”

“Maybe we can find another Lauren,” Claire said, mentally crossing her fingers for good luck. “My job is to locate beautiful things for people, so you can hire me to help you. For free.”

Brianna sniffled and straightened up. “Thank you, Aunt Claire, but I like Laurianne too. She’s reading a book.”

“That’s nice of both of you,” Claire said, admiring her nieces’ generosity toward each other. “I want you to know that you are two very smart, brave girls. You did exactly the right thing tonight, both of you. I’m proud of you.”

“Aunt Claire? Mama says you have a whisper horse that you can tell anything you want to,” Brianna said.

“That’s right. Her name is Willow.”

“Can two people have the same whisper horse?”

“I don’t see why not, but the real expert is my friend Sharon. Why don’t we visit the stable tomorrow and ask her?”

“Me too?” Kayleigh asked. “Mama says they have kittens there.”

“Of course you too,” Claire said, pulling the girls close to her again.

As she hugged them, she thought how small and light their child’s bones were beneath the brightly colored pajama fabrics, almost like a bird’s. A desire to protect them from all the ugliness in the world surged through her with fearsome power. How could Holly even think of exposing these two precious beings to Frank’s violence? Claire could feel anger welling up inside her
again. She fought it down by dropping her nose into Brianna’s hair and inhaling the sweet powdery scent of innocence.

“I love you so much,” she murmured against the curve of her niece’s skull. “And I love you,” she said, shifting to Kayleigh’s little head.

She felt something shift deep inside her as her feelings for these two little girls seemed to expand and strengthen second by second. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Oddly enough, she had said almost the same thing to Willow.

“H
OW DID IT
go with the police chief?” Claire asked Tim. She had tucked two clean, pajama-clad little girls in bed next to her sister before she found him sitting at the kitchen table eating the casserole he had rescued from the oven.

His blazer was slung over the back of the chair, and he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. As he leaned forward to take a bite, the familiar errant lock of hair fell onto his forehead. She wanted to slide onto his lap and burrow into the expanse of blue silk spanning his chest, hiding from the disaster of the evening.

“Hungry?” he asked. “I’ll heat up a plate for you.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass for now.” The spike and drop of adrenaline had killed her appetite. Claire sank into the chair across from him, her full skirt spilling over the arms.

Putting down the fork, he wiped his chin before speaking. “They’re going to send a patrol car by here regularly. He also promised to send the locksmith over first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you!” Claire slumped back in her chair. “I tried to talk her into changing the locks on the day Frank announced he wanted a divorce. She wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Sometimes it takes a while to come to terms with a harsh reality,” Tim said, his tone sober now. He reached across the table and opened his hand palm up, an invitation to comfort. Claire hesitated only a moment before placing her hand against the
warmth of his palm. She felt the calluses on his fingertips brush her skin as he carefully closed them.

That was all it took, just that minor point of contact, and she became aware of him across every inch of her body. Why had she never before noticed that his lower lip had a full, sensuous swell that made her want to trace it with her tongue?

“Folks don’t always want to admit things have gone wrong in their lives, and it’s especially hard to admit it to family,” Tim was saying, his low rumble of a voice sending delicious little vibrations dancing along her spine.

Claire shivered as the heat of his hand licked up her arm and melded with all the other sensations his presence fanned into being.

“Are you cold?” he asked, letting go of her hand and reaching around for his jacket. “Take this.”

He stood and draped the jacket over her shoulders. “Mmm, much better,” she said, pulling it close around her so she could feel the body heat where he had sat against it and smell the scent of clean male. It was as close as she could get to having his arms around her. “I think it’s relief. You’ve just solved all my short-term problems.”

“Maybe I’m your whisper human,” he said, his big hands cupping her shoulders and his mouth close to her ear. “Tell me your troubles and they’ll go away.”

Claire shivered again as his breath feathered over her cheek. “That’s a nice thought, but more burden than I’d ask anyone else to bear.”

He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before he released them. “I’m in better shape than Willow is for bearing burdens.” He returned to his chair and picked up his fork again. “My apologies for eating when you’re not. It takes a fair amount of fuel to keep me going.”

“I feel terrible. You should be eating four-star haute cuisine instead of mystery casserole.” She watched the play of muscles in
his throat as he swallowed and thought about feeling them move against her lips.

“The casserole is right tasty. Why don’t we try for the haute cuisine again tomorrow night?”

Claire yearned to say yes so she could sit across another table and bask in the quiet power of this man. “It sounds great, but I have another commitment tomorrow night. May I have a rain check?”

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