chuckled, needing to ease the tension in the room. “Home less than an hour and she’ll do anything you say. Of course, she loves for someone to read her favorite book to her. That’s the only way I can get her into bed without an argument.”
Finally Dane’s shuttered gaze met hers. “What’s her favorite book?”
“This month it’s Henrietta’s Cat. After she can recite it to you, her favorite book changes.”
“I remember how Blake loved to be read to when he was her age.”
The wistful tone in Dane’s voice tugged at Zoey’s heart. She wanted to comfort him, and yet a barrier stood between them that had slowly grown since he’d first arrived, a barrier that had been firmly in place the day he had left on his last assignment. It was as if they both began to remember the past and the problems still unsolved. An awkward silence fell between them. All Zoey heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Dane cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair several times. “Well, I guess—” He rose, uncertainty in his expression.
“It’ll take Mandy a few minutes to get ready. In the meantime, let me get some bedding for you.” She started for the stairs. “I’m sure you’re tired.”
“Zoey, Carl said something about you being a counselor at Sweetwater High School.”
“Yes, I had to do something to support the children. Our savings wasn’t much, and you weren’t legally declared dead yet, so I couldn’t get the insurance. I love counseling the students and using my education. Now, I’d better get that bedding.”
Zoey hurried up the stairs, leaving Dane alone with his turbulent thoughts. Zoey was a high school counselor. She had a whole other life without him. Her life had moved on while his had come to a screeching halt over two years ago. Memories bombarded him. He felt the heat of the fire. He heard the sounds of crunching metal. He squeezed his eyes closed and massaged his temples, trying to erase those aching memories, always just out of reach, never quite clear enough for him to piece the whole picture together.
A sound from the hallway drew his attention away from the past. He glimpsed Blake peering around the corner. He stepped toward his son. Blake darted past him and flew up the stairs. Dane wanted to go after him and pull him into his embrace, but the look on his son’s face kept Dane rooted to the floor. The anger in Blake’s expression made him realize Zoey was right. His son wasn’t ready to accept him back into his life. Pain clawed at Dane’s chest, constricting each breath as he inhaled deeply. Why had he thought it would be simple? That he would waltz right back into his old life and pick up where he’d left off? Did he even want that old life back? What did he want?
Dane scanned the living room and remembered a few pieces of furniture from when they’d lived in Dallas. But so much was different—the house, the town, his wife, his family. He’d desperately needed it to be the same, so he could completely reconstruct his life, fill in the few remaining holes in his memory. He felt the walls closing in on him.
He strode from the living room, fleeing out onto the porch as quickly as Blake had gone upstairs. Taking deep breaths of the crisp, spring air, Dane listened to the night silence around him. Somewhere in the distance a car started. A dog barked. The constriction in his chest eased.
He was in the United States, in Kentucky, Zoey’s hometown. He wasn’t in the rain forest any longer, trying to survive in an alien environment while trying to recover his health and remember. He was getting stronger each day. He had his memory back—mostly.
“Dane, are you all right?”
Zoey’s worried voice penetrated his thoughts. He needed to answer her, but his throat was tight with emotions he refused to acknowledge—was afraid to acknowledge.
“Dane? I saw Blake run to his room. Did you two talk?”
Frustrated, he pivoted, his arms stiff at his sides. “No, I didn’t go against your wishes, if that’s what you want to know. He ran past the living room and up the stairs before I could say a word to him.”
“Give him some time. He’ll come around.” She hugged the bedding to her.
“And what about you and me?”
“I suspect we all need time to adjust to the changes.”
“Because we aren’t the same two people?”
“That and because we both remember what our marriage was like right before you left. A lot has happened to us in the past few years.”
Weariness settled on his shoulders and laid heavily about him like the humidity in the jungle. He retrieved his duffel bag he’d put down before knocking on the screen door. “Here. Let me take those sheets and pillow. I can make up the bed. Just point me in the right direction.”
Zoey moved to the side and gestured down the hall. “The den is at the back of the house. When you’re through, Mandy should be ready for a story.”
He started past the entrance into the living room and paused. “Do you need any help?”
Zoey’s brow creased. “Help?”
“Yes.” He indicated the dishes still stacked on the dining room table from the family meal earlier. “I interrupted you cleaning up after dinner.”
Zoey shook her head. “That’s okay. It won’t take me long. We ate late tonight because we’d been at my friend Darcy’s farm. Mandy’s taking riding lessons on Friday evenings and Blake had an extra soccer practice.” She remembered the times they would clean up together, especially when they were first married, and how often they would end up in some kind of playful fight, sharing laughter, sharing a kiss. Those memories were too much for her at the moment because that had been a long time ago and a lot had happened since then.
“I’ll read Mandy her story, then I’ll look in on Tara. I’ll wait on Blake. Which bedroom is his? I don’t want to bother him and cause anymore trouble.” Dane’s voice was stiff and formal as though it was necessary to put a distance between them.
“The one with the closed door.”
There was no expression on Dane’s face as he headed toward the den to put up his duffel bag and bedding. The silence of the house, usually a balm, eroded what composure she had left. Moving into the living room, she sank onto a chair, hugging her arms to still the trembling that quickly spread throughout her body. Shudder after shudder left her vulnerable and uncertain what to do next. She buried her face in her hands and massaged her fingers into her temple. How was she going to keep her family together?
“Zoey?”
Her head snapped up, and she stared at her mother hovering over her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Is Tara in bed?”
“Yes, it took a while to get her to go down. Dane’s saying good-night to her right now.”
“He is? I didn’t even see him go by.”
“Maybe because you were deep in thought. Want to talk?”
Zoey rose slowly, weariness in every movement.
