Although she didn’t argue he could tell she was brooding. She proved it by saying, “I wish they’d let me back in my apartment to at least grab a change of clothes.”
“You can borrow what you need from Carter’s wife, Missy. I think she’s about your size.” Adam smiled, hoping to lift her mood. “I imagine the crime-scene folks will release your apartment in a day or so, but it will still be a mess.”
“I probably should talk to my landlady in case the police don’t call her right away. She’s going to be very upset. I know I am.”
“None of this is your fault, Sara.”
Her head snapped around. “You’re kidding, right? How can I not feel this is personal? Somebody is really mad at me and I haven’t done one thing to earn it.”
A few miles passed before Adam made a suggestion, hoping she wouldn’t go ballistic on him. “Actually, I can think of a couple of possible reasons for your troubles. One, there’s the matter of the thefts Vicki thought she had uncovered in Texas. Even if she was imagining a crime where there was none, she could have stirred the pot, so to speak.”
“If there was no crime to be proved, then nobody from down south would care,” Sara countered. “And there would be no good reason for Rodrigo to have come all the way up here unless he and Vicki had developed a serious romance.”
“You assume he came because of her?”
“He must have. They were overly familiar on our trip and he ended up dying in her apartment. How much more connection do you want?”
“It’s probably not going to be enough to satisfy the police about him but you do have a point.”
“I certainly do.” Adam felt her eyes on him and glanced her way just as she asked, “You said a couple of reasons. What’s the second one?”
“Um. That’s a bit harder to swallow. I was thinking of the Babcock family and their friends. Vicki’s kin may be angrier than they acted at her funeral.”
Sara was rolling her eyes as he returned his concentration to the road ahead. “If any of them are madder than my Aunt Helen, I’m in real trouble. If looks could have killed I’d already be on the wrong side of the grass.”
“Helen was grieving, Sara. I’m sure she didn’t mean whatever she said to you.”
“That’s the problem. There was no real confrontation. She just stared daggers at me.” She sighed. “Maybe if my folks had managed to make it back for the service it wouldn’t have been so bad, but Dad’s heart condition won’t permit travel.”
Sara folded her arms and hugged herself. Adam thought he saw a shiver. “Are you cold? I never considered not being able to roll up the window.”
“It’s not the weather that chills me,” she replied, “it’s the atmosphere in this town since I came back without my cousin. Nobody seems to remember that she was my best friend. We were closer than sisters when we were growing up together.”
Sober and sympathetic, Adam nodded. “I know. That’s another reason for everybody to wonder why you weren’t able to stop her the night she drowned.”
“You, too, Adam?” Sara’s words were shaky, her tone and inflection conveying disappointment.
He had overstepped, had hurt her when he’d merely been fishing for more information, for something, anything, that would put his and others’ minds at rest. He reached across the seat to pat her shoulder and she shied away.
“Look, I’m not blaming you, Sara. I know how confusing emergencies can be and how things can go wrong no matter how careful and diligent we are. But I also know you’re strong and will stand up for what you believe is right. Is that what happened? Did you let Vicki go because you wanted to nail the thieves as badly as she did? After all, stealing from a charity is the lowest kind of crime.”
“Despicable.” She shuddered. “But I wasn’t thinking of that. All I really recall is that arguing with Vicki was like banging my head against a brick wall. She was every bit as stubborn as you think I am. If I had been the one determined to save that evidence I doubt she could have talked me out of it, either.”
Adam refrained from agreeing and making things worse. He got it. He really did. But Sara seemed to be forgetting that her cousin had been his good friend, too, and he had also suffered a painful loss. Perhaps explaining that was how he could regain Sara’s trust.
He cleared his throat, his hands fisting on the steering wheel, his jaw firm. This was hard to even consider, let alone express, but he’d do his best.
“I—I loved her, too, Sara. Losing Vicki may not have hurt me in exactly the same way but I do understand how you feel.”
Watching out of the corner of his eye he saw her dabbing at her damp cheeks. Truth to tell, his own eyes were none too dry, although if she noticed he planned to blame the moisture on the aftereffects of fighting the fire.
“You loved her?”
“Of course I did. The three of us were great friends. That kind of special connection is rare.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Adam noted that her head was lowered, her hair masking her cheeks, and her hands were folded in her lap. He wasn’t sure if she was crying or praying or both. It hardly mattered. He’d shared personal insight that he’d revealed to no one else because he wanted Sara to see things from his perspective. To understand that she didn’t have to grieve alone.
Remaining silent for the rest of the drive to his ranch, Adam let her mourn Vicki in her own way. He had shouted and railed at God when the news had reached Paradise and spread through the small town like wildfire. In the four days between that sad event and Sara’s return he’d had time to regain his self-control, at least enough to hide his more turbulent emotions.
Now, weeks later, Sara knew the truth. Losing a friend for whatever reason was a terrible blow to a person’s psyche as well as to his or her faith. His had been weak after his stint in the marine corps but recent events had tried it almost to the breaking point.
Adam thought of God and of the tasks he’d been given in his life. Hard ones. Painful ones. But, oh, so necessary. So right.
Yes, his faith had suffered and he continued to struggle against accepting the bad with the good. What he would have done, how he would have coped without a belief in a higher power, however, was unimaginable.
Sara tensed as Adam wheeled his pickup beneath the wide, wrought-iron arch and onto the Kane ranch property. She had expected their arrival to be quiet if not stealthy. Instead, the main house was glowing from almost every window, including those upstairs.
“Oh, dear. It looks like they’re up waiting for us.”
“I called ahead,” Adam said. “I didn’t want to be shot as a prowler when I came in at an odd hour.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve lived in town for so long I’d forgotten how protective ranchers and farmers can be.”
“Anybody out in the country needs to be proactive,” he said. “We look after our own.”
“Maybe that’s what led you to becoming a firefighter.”
“Maybe. I truly wanted to help people. What made you decided to volunteer as an EMT when it’s so like your daily job?”
“Needed skills, I guess.” That was all she intended to say. To have gone on about her reasons might have revealed too many personal truths besides altruism, such as wanting to be involved because it brought her closer to Adam in training meetings and, of course, when responding to emergency calls. The ones for