The Hero's Sin. Darlene Gardner

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Her voice trembled. “Is that you?”

      “It’s me, Aunt Felicia.”

      Her hand fluttered to her forehead to the exact spot where he knew his injury was, and he guessed he was black-and-blue. “Your head…”

      “It’s nothing.” He shrugged to underscore his words.

      He waited for her to invite him inside, but she just stood there staring at him. His throat felt so thick he wasn’t sure he could speak. He hadn’t seen her since his eighteenth birthday, the day Murray had kicked him out. That had been nine years ago.

      He squinted. The years had taken their toll. Through the screen of the door, she looked every one of her seventy-plus years.

      “I thought you were in Africa,” his aunt finally said, her voice no steadier than before.

      He swallowed. “I only just got back to the States. I thought you should know I’m in town for Johnny’s wedding.”

      He owed Aunt Felicia that much. She’d taken him in during that dark time after his mother had overdosed. Even though his aunt hadn’t been able to stand up to her husband in the end, he still remembered her trying to explain.

      “If it was just me, you could stay,” she’d told him, tears trickling down her papery cheeks. “But I’m worn out from arguing with him about you.”

      Michael had claimed to understand but hadn’t. Not back then. Back then he’d wanted somebody to want him. That’s probably why he hadn’t protested too long or too hard when Chrissy insisted she was leaving Indigo Springs with him.

      Nine years, he thought again. Chrissy had been dead for eight of them.

      His aunt didn’t say anything now, her mouth working but no words emerging.

      He cleared his throat. “Johnny told me about Murray. I’m sorry.” It was the truth. Michael didn’t wish anybody dead. Not even Murray.

      “Felicia. It’s your turn.” A woman’s voice floated from the direction of the living room.

      “Bridge night,” his aunt explained.

      “Who’s at the door anyway?” A different, louder voice. One that sounded familiar.

      “No one,” his aunt replied quickly, the answer stabbing through him like a jagged spear. She blinked a few times, shifted from foot to foot, her hand fluttering to her throat. Her eyes seemed to plead with him. “You understand I can’t invite you in.”

      “I understand.” He gave the same answer he had years ago, but this time it was the truth. Aunt Felicia’s friends would be Indigo Springs long-timers. She had good reason to be ashamed of him. “I just wanted to be the one to tell you I was in town.”

      Once he showed up at the wedding, the buzzing would start. It wouldn’t take long for word to reach Aunt Felicia.

      “Where are you staying?” she asked.

      “A hotel outside of town.”

      “Felicia!” A different voice this time. “We’re waiting.”

      His aunt’s face twisted with an emotion he couldn’t identify.

      “You’d better go,” he told her and backed away from the door, chiding himself for expecting too much. He descended the creaky porch stairs and was almost to the sidewalk when her voice stopped him, so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

      “Michael.”

      He turned around, trying not to hope. “Yeah?”

      “When are you leaving town?”

      “Sunday morning,” he said.

      “Could you stop by before you go?”

      He started nodding before she finished the question, a flame of optimism leaping inside him. “Yeah. Sure.”

      “I’ve got some of your things in the basement,” she said softly. “Nothing valuable, but you might want them back.”

      Somehow he managed to tell her good-night before making his lonely way back to his rental car. He wished like hell he hadn’t promised Johnny he’d come to the wedding.

      Some people really couldn’t go home again.

      It seemed he was one of them.

       CHAPTER TWO

       “I NEVER saw anybody cry so much at a wedding!”

      Sara tried not to wince as she regarded the short, middle-aged woman in front of her in the receiving line at the VFW hall, which was decorated in soft pastels to reflect the varying colors of the bridesmaid’s dresses.

      So much for creating a first impression of toughness, a quality most people sought in a lawyer.

      Sara couldn’t even console herself with the fiction that few of the wedding guests had noticed her tears. Three women had offered her tissues. This woman—she’d introduced herself as Marie Dombrowski—hadn’t been sitting anywhere near her.

      “Weddings do that to me,” Sara said as they passed through an arch of silk flowers interspersed with white netting and approached the receiving line. “I can’t seem to help myself.”

      Marie patted Sara on the arm, sympathy practically oozing from her. “Don’t worry, dear. Someday it’ll be your turn.”

      “You’ve got it wrong. That’s not why—” Sara began.

      “Being a romantic is nothing to be ashamed of,” Marie interrupted. “But of course you know that. Only a romantic would wear an adorable dress like that.”

      Sara smoothed a hand down the skirt of the paisley-print, triple-flounced sleeveless dress she wore with matching pink-and-red-satin sandals. She’d bought the dress on a whim while shopping for a new work wardrobe that wasn’t so stuffy. The look was ultra-feminine, a drastic change of pace from the structured suits she used to wear no matter the occasion.

      “Thank you,” Sara said, “but nobody’s ever called me a romantic before. Especially not the men I’ve dated.”

      “Then none of them must’ve been right for you,” Marie declared. She herself was wearing a pink knee-length dress with tiny appliquéd hearts on the bodice.

      “I wasn’t right for them, either. Lawyers don’t generally make good girlfriends.”

      “Now I know who you are!” Marie exclaimed, looking delighted with herself. “You bought that empty storefront on Main Street. Aren’t you an old friend of the bride’s from high school?”

      “That’s right. But how did you know that?”

      “Oh, honey. Indigo Springs may be turning into a tourist town, but among the locals nothing’s a mystery. Isn’t that right, Frank?” She nudged the stout, silent man at her elbow she’d introduced СКАЧАТЬ