and Walker was just what she’d been afraid he was.
When Walker decided to go along, she wasn’t happy about it. She doubted he wanted to know more about the work that had become a passionate calling for his sister. He was more likely already bored at being home, she thought sourly.
At least he got in the backseat, she thought, so she could ignore him more easily. And the shirt he’d put on helped, although the image of his bare chest and ridged stomach stubbornly stayed in her mind. He hadn’t gone soft in those years, she thought. He still looked like the star athlete he’d been, the holder of the state high school record for no-hitters pitched.
Well, minus the odd, squiggly line tattoo she’d noticed on his arm.
Cutter, now in the wayback, apparently still hadn’t decided about Walker. It was as if the dog somehow knew he was connected to his beloved Hayley, but also knew he’d hurt her. Amy wondered if he didn’t like him, but held it back because of that connection. And then laughed at herself for crediting the canine with human emotions and decisions.
She focused on where they were going.
“Foxworth really helps with such small problems?”
Hayley smiled. “Foxworth may have helped to practically take down a government—in our absence, mind you—but one of Quinn’s favorite cases was finding a little girl’s lost locket, the only thing she had left from her mother.”
Amy smiled back at that. “He was probably thinking of you and your mother.” And only a little bit of that was aimed at the silent passenger in the back.
“His own, too,” Hayley said softly. “He was a lot younger when he lost her. Just a child.”
Hayley had told her of Quinn’s parents, killed in the terrorist bombing over in Scotland, and how that event had led years later to the starting of the Foxworth Foundation.
As they passed the blackened spot, Walker asked about the missing house. As Hayley told the story of how she and Quinn had met, black helicopter and all, Amy smiled. Hayley was so clearly—and rightfully—proud of what Foxworth did. Foxworth helped people who were losing battles even though they were in the right and had nowhere else to turn. It warmed Amy all over again. And she realized suddenly that this feeling, this passion, this certainty that what you were doing was not just right but necessary, and incredibly important, was what was missing from her own life.
And yet, that feeling was exactly what she had hoped to find in her work. She thought she had found it. Her boss was—she’d thought—a good guy at heart. Kind of old-school, tough, a bit brusque, but fair. But now she wondered. Was afraid he wasn’t who she’d thought he was.
Just as Walker hadn’t been, she added as he reacted to his sister’s tale of danger and a midnight kidnapping.
“Damn it, Hayley, you could have been killed,” Walker said.
“Quinn wouldn’t let that happen.”
“No man’s infallible.”
“He’s pretty darn close,” Hayley said cheerfully, and Amy liked how she refused to let her brother’s supposed concern now, when it was far too late, matter. “And of course Cutter would never let that happen, either.”
On his name the dog let out a sharp yip, and Amy had the satisfaction of seeing Walker’s head snap around.
“He go with you everywhere?” Walker asked.
“Pretty much,” Hayley said.
“He’s a loyal sort,” Amy said.
She didn’t realize until she’d spoken the words that they could be interpreted as a jab at Walker. But he didn’t react, and she risked turning her head enough to where she could see him out of the corner of her eye. He was looking over the backseat at Cutter, who was staring back at him. But from that angle she could see his jaw was tight, set.
“He’s also an excellent judge of character,” Hayley said, and Amy gave her friend a startled look, wondering if she was taking a shot at Walker, as well. It was hard to interpret the timing of that comment as anything else. And another glance back at Walker told her he knew it.
But he didn’t protest. He said merely, “So I should be glad he hasn’t torn my throat out, is that it?”
“Oh, I don’t think he’s made up his mind yet,” Hayley said, her tone still cheerful as they reached the turnoff for Foxworth. Having visited it several times helping with the wedding, it was familiar to Amy.
“This was the perfect setting,” she said as they drove down the winding drive through the trees. “You were lucky you had such a gorgeous day for the wedding,” she said.
“We were. Winter’s not usually so cooperative around here.”
“And Cutter did his job as ring-bearer perfectly.”
“He did, didn’t you, my sweet boy?”
Cutter made a sound that was half bark, half whine, amazingly like “Yes,” in sound and “Of course” in tone.
“And you couldn’t have scripted the eagles’ flight any better. That was so amazing.”
“It was gasp-worthy, wasn’t it?”
“Nothing like having a soaring stamp of approval from our national symbol in front of everyone,” Amy said with a laugh. “Quite the salute.”
Walker said nothing. But when she glanced once more as she got out of the car, Amy noticed his right hand was clenched atop his knee. And his knuckles were white with the pressure as they talked about the wedding he’d missed.
Good, she thought. And didn’t feel the least vindictive for it.
Well, wasn’t that just a pleasant drive?
Walker had never been so grateful that a trip was over. He told himself neither woman had been sniping at him, that Hayley and Amy were quite naturally talking about the wedding because it had been held here and because that’s what women did.
It didn’t make him feel any better. Nor did looking out at the meadow beyond the anonymous, three-story green building, and trying to picture what it must have looked like set up for the ceremony. He’d seen the photograph of Hayley and Quinn on the table in the living room, and the others along the stairway wall when he’d gone up to take a shower. Something about every one of them had jabbed at him—how beautiful Hayley had been, the way Quinn looked at her as if she were the treasure at the end of the rainbow and the number of people there he didn’t know, yet another part of his sister’s life he had no place in.
And how amazing Amy had looked in the royal blue dress that had skimmed every curve and set her hair off like quiet fire. She’d worn those blue glasses, matching the dress, and he wondered if she’d bought them for that reason. And how many pairs she had. Little Amy had come a long way. Despite the difficulties of her childhood, she’d made a success of herself. In the end, she’d done a heck of a lot better at it than he had.
That
