And shortly after midnight, everything that mattered in her life vanished. At least she didn’t mourn the pregnancy as much as she might if she had had time to get accustomed to the idea. That little mark on the stick had scarcely been real to her yet when the gunshot ended it all.
But Jim...Jim had been everything. Jim and her students. The life they had barely begun to build together after only two years.
Now she drew a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, trying to prevent the gasping sobs she had managed to avoid for months now.
But awake, or asleep, she still heard the banging on the door. Banging that had sounded like the police. Jim had laughed drowsily as he climbed from bed to answer it.
“Somebody probably just tried to steal my car,” he had said. His car was also a joke between them, a beater he’d gotten in law school. It was certainly not worthy of stealing, but the very expensive stereo he’d put in it was.
She had heard him open the door then...
Her mind balked. Her eyes snapped open. No, she couldn’t do this to herself again. No way. It was done, the nightmares permanently engraved on her heart and mind, but that didn’t mean she had to let them surface.
Sometimes she even scolded herself for it, because while grief was natural, and the fear she felt equally so, every time she indulged herself in grief or fear, she knew she was giving that man even more power over her than he had already stolen from her.
And he had already stolen everything that mattered.
The phone rang, jarring her. This time she didn’t jump for it, this time she didn’t think it was work calling. Part of her wanted to let it ring unanswered, but she didn’t even have an answering machine, and what if it was Gage?
Slowly, reluctantly, she reached for it, coiling as tight as a spring. So tight some of her nerves actually objected.
“Hello?”
“Cory, it’s Gage. I just wanted you to know a few other women have reported similar calls, so it was probably just a prank, okay?”
Her breath escaped her lungs in a gasp of relief. “Thanks,” she said. “Thanks.”
“And I’m getting caller ID put on your service. The phone company says you should have it within a few days. And don’t worry about the cost. The department will pay for it.”
“Oh, Gage...” Words deserted her yet again. Of all the places on this earth the Marshals could have put her, she was grateful they had put her in a town with Gage Dalton.
“Hey,” he said kindly. “We take care of our own around here. It’s not a problem.”
Before she could thank him again, he was gone.
“Is everything all right?”
Startled, she nearly cried out, and turned to see Wade Kendrick at the foot of the stairs. How had he come down so silently? Earlier his tread had been heavy. Or maybe she’d just been so distracted. She drew a few deep breaths, trying to steady her pulse.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard the phone ring, and after the way you reacted earlier...”
“Of course. Of course.” She closed her eyes and consciously tried to relax, at least a bit. It didn’t happen easily anymore, that whole relaxing thing. “Everything’s okay. Gage...called.” But what could she tell him about the call? Even a few words might be too much.
He waited, and it was clear to her that he wasn’t satisfied. But he didn’t ask, he just waited. And somehow his willingness to wait reassured her. She couldn’t even understand it herself.
“I got a nasty phone call earlier,” she said slowly.
He nodded. “I didn’t think it was a funny one.”
“No.” Of course not. And now she was sounding like an idiot, she supposed. She gathered herself, trying to organize her words carefully. “Gage just wanted me to know that several other women received similar calls.”
One of his eyebrows lifted. “Really.”
“Probably just kids.”
“Maybe.”
His response didn’t seem to make sense. “Maybe?”
“Well, that would depend, wouldn’t it?”
“On what?”
“On what has you so scared, and who else received the calls.”
“What in the world do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Life has made me suspicious.”
“Oh.” She bit her lower lip, realizing that nothing in her life had prepared her for dealing with a man like this. He seemed to come at things from a unique direction, unlike anything she was familiar with.
He started to turn away. “Well, as long as you’re okay...”
He didn’t ask a single question. She found that intriguing, given what little he had figured out about her in the short time since he moved in. Any other person would have been asking dozens of questions, but this man just seemed to accept that she was afraid, she must have good reason for it and that it was none of his business.
In that moment she thought it possible that she might come to like him.
“Wade?”
He stopped and turned back to her. He didn’t say a word, simply looked at her.
“I, uh...” How could she say that she didn’t want to be alone? That she was tired of being locked in the prison of her own thoughts? That even though solitude had provided her only safety for a year now, she was sick of it, and sick of her own company. Tired enough of it all to feel an impulse toward risk. Just a small risk.
“Should I make coffee?” he asked.
He had understood, though how she couldn’t imagine. She might have been about to ask him anything, tell him anything.
All she said was, “Thanks.” Because there was nothing else she could say.
She switched the TV off so she could listen to his movements in the kitchen. Everything he needed was beside the drip coffeemaker, so he wouldn’t have trouble finding it. And finally she could afford to have more than one cup each day. Imagine that, being reduced to one cup of coffee and a can of soup each day.
Sure, there were plenty of people in the world who had less, but her life had never before been restricted in such a way. She’d always been luckier than that. Always. Until recently.
Wade returned finally with two mugs, hers with exactly the right milkiness. The man missed nothing. Nothing.
He sat across from her on the easy chair, sipping his own coffee, watchful but silent. Maybe this wasn’t going to work at all. How did you converse with a block of stone? But she needed something, anything, to break the cycle of her own thoughts.
Man, she didn’t even know how to start a conversation anymore! Once it had come as naturally as breathing to her, but now, after a year of guarding every word that issued from her mouth, she had lost the ability it seemed.
Wade sipped his coffee again. He, at least, seemed comfortable with silence. After a couple of awkward minutes, however, he surprised her by speaking.
“Do you know Seth Hardin?”
She shook her head. “I know his father, but I’ve never met Seth.”
“He’s a great guy. I worked with him a lot over the years. He’s the one who recommended I come here.”
Positively voluble all of a sudden. “Why?”
He