she can run me ragged.” Zoey turned back to Dane, whose gaze was glued to his youngest daughter, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
“She looks just like you, too. I’m glad. I wish I had known. I—”
The pain in his voice shredded the composure she’d fought hard to maintain for her children’s sake. Her heart hammered against her chest, the beat vibrating in her head. Zoey peered at him and saw that glimpse of vulnerability she’d caught in his expression several times earlier. Sensing her regard, he quickly masked his look with a neutral one, something he was very good at doing. This was the Dane she knew—the one who didn’t know how to share his feelings, who held a part of himself locked inside, the person her son was so similar to.
Exhausted from the past hour, Zoey collapsed in the chair next to the couch, wanting as much distance between them as possible in a room that had suddenly become small.
“Where’s Blake?” Dane asked, his gaze fixed on the entrance into the living room.
“In the den.”
“Is he coming in here?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Dane tensed, the only indication that her words had affected him. “Why not?”
“When you…disappeared, Blake didn’t take it well.”
“But I’m here now. I know this isn’t easy, but—”
Again that pain laced his voice and stabbed through her heart, through all the defenses she had erected. “But, what?” Tell me what you’re thinking, she silently added.
Pressing Tara to him, he shuttered his look and rose. “I’ll go have a word with him.”
“Don’t.”
Chapter Two
Dane froze. “What do you mean, don’t? He’s my son. I haven’t seen him in over two years.”
“I know.” Zoey stood, her legs shaky. “When you didn’t come home, he took your disappearance very hard. He cried for months, then clammed up and wouldn’t say a word about you.”
Dane closed his eyes for a few seconds, shaking his head. “Then he should be glad I’m back.”
“He’s—” she searched for a word that wouldn’t be too harsh “—upset. I don’t think Blake knows what to feel right now. Give him some time. He loves you very much. I think he’s afraid you’ll leave again for good.”
“I need to see—” Dane clamped his jaws together and stared toward the entrance as though debating whether to ignore her advice or do as she had requested and give Blake some space.
“Please, Dane. I realize this is hard on you.”
“Hard! I nearly died in that plane crash. If the Xingas hadn’t found me and taken me in, I wouldn’t be here. The first few months after the crash I was—” He snapped his mouth closed, gulped, then continued in a stilted voice, “I want to see my son, hold him.” He buried his face in Tara’s blond curls and breathed deeply while his daughter played with the buttons on his shirt between knuckling her eyes.
“So family is important to you now,” Zoey said without thinking. She hadn’t meant to add to his pain, but she had lived through Blake’s silent suffering, through the years of watching Dane go off on one assignment after another, leaving her and the children alone to cope with his prolonged absences. But the worst was never knowing what was really going on with her husband.
Dane flinched. “Ouch. You’re certainly blunt.”
“Something I’ve learned to be over the last few years. A lot about me has changed.”
“And a lot about me has changed.”
“Then we aren’t the same two people who married fourteen years ago?”
“No, and being strangers isn’t a good foundation for a marriage.”
“I agree. We have three children and we made a vow before God fourteen years ago that I intend to keep.” Her emotions had gone through a roller-coaster ride tonight, as she was sure Dane’s had as well, and she was too tired to get into a discussion about their future at this moment. She was glad when she heard Mandy pounding down the stairs.
Zoey’s mother followed Mandy into the living room and took Tara from Dane. “Dane, I’m glad you’re home safe. I’ll get her ready for bed while you spend some time with Mandy.”
“Thanks, Mom. She’s starting to rub her eyes. Never a good sign.” At Dane’s questioning look, Zoey added, “When that happens, we have about half an hour to get Tara to bed before she falls apart. You don’t want that. She can scream the roof off when she’s tired enough.”
With her treasure box clasped in her hands and a wide smile on her face, Mandy plopped down on the couch next to Dane and carefully opened the old pink-and-white gift box she’d received her last birthday. “See the rock I got when we went hikin’. And look at this coin Jesse and Nick gave me. That’s when they went to—” Mandy peered at Zoey, her brow furrowed.
“To England.”
“Yeah. Isn’t it neat?” Mandy held the coin out in the palm of her hand for Dane to inspect.
“I loved different coins when I was a little boy. I had a collection.”
Zoey blinked, surprised at what Dane had said. She hadn’t known that. When she thought about it, Zoey realized she really didn’t know a lot about Dane’s childhood. Both his parents were dead, his mother from an illness. He had cared for his younger brother for a while, but he’d died when Dane was twenty-one. He’d refused to discuss his past, just as he’d refused to discuss his job. After years of asking, wanting to share his pain and help him, she had given up.
“Where’s the coins?”
Dane cocked his head to the side and thought for a moment. “You know, Mandy, I’m not sure. I guess I lost them.”
Mandy hugged the English coin. “I’ll never lose my treasures.”
Zoey listened to her daughter as she went through all her other prize possessions, cupping them in her small palm to show Dane, then letting him pick them up and examine them. Zoey knew in that moment it wouldn’t take long for Dane to win Mandy over.
Ten minutes later Mandy finished her presentation with a big yawn. “What’cha think of my treasures?”
“I can see why you take such good care of them.”
“And it’s time for bed, young lady. In fact, it’s past your bedtime,” Zoey said, a tightness in her throat from watching the exchange between Dane and Mandy.
“But, Mommy, I want to stay up and talk to Daddy.”
“If you hurry, I’ll tuck you in and read you your favorite story,” Dane said, his words sounding thick, forced. He put the last treasure back in the box and closed its lid, his face averted.
