returned slowly, finding its way back one quiet step at a time. Finally Connie lifted a hand and wiped her cheeks. “Sorry.”
“No need.” He didn’t want to let go of her. He wanted to keep her right where she was, as if it were the only way he could protect her. And maybe himself.
Nor did she seem eager to escape his embrace. She rested against him, within the circle of his arms, as if she had found a measure of peace at last.
That wouldn’t remain. It never did. But for now, neither of them risked disturbing it.
Reality had its own rules, however, and at last, with a sigh, Connie slid from his lap and back into her own chair. She reached for her coffee, found it cold and went to get a fresh cup.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“If you can’t hunker down with your friends in a firefight, when can you?”
“That’s an interesting analogy.” She returned to her seat and sipped the coffee.
“This situation qualifies.”
“I guess it does.” She shook her head, as if trying to wipe away a thought, then looked at him with a pallid smile. “I usually cope better.”
“With something like this? I suppose you have a whole lot of experience with this kind of thing?”
At that, her smile broadened a shade. “No, I guess I don’t. If Sophie weren’t involved... But why even think about it? She is involved. That’s what’s killing me.”
“Of course it is. Most of us worry less about ourselves than we do about those we care for.”
“You’re right.” A shiver passed through her—a release of tension, he guessed. “Time to stop being hysterical and start thinking.”
He nodded when she looked at him, waiting to hear what she had to say.
“I’m going to start by calling Enid and telling her she doesn’t have to call me on and off all night as long as everything is okay. Because I’m damned if I’m going to answer the phone again.”
“I could answer for you.”
“No. I don’t want to give the creep the satisfaction.” Rising, she went to the wall phone and dialed Enid’s number. In the background, mayhem still reigned.
“Okay,” Enid said. “If you’re sure. These girls are so wound up, I can guarantee you they won’t crash before dawn. And the cops keep prowling around. I think they’re making me more nervous.”
“I appreciate everything, Enid. I really do. But I need to start focusing on why this guy called me and what I should do about it, and honestly, I’d rather not be answering the phone tonight.”
“I can see why, honey. Don’t give the crud the satisfaction. And if you get concerned, just call. Like I said, we’re going to be up all night.”
When Connie hung up, she returned to her seat and her coffee. “It’s got to be Leo,” she announced.
“That’s my guess.”
“No one else would want to scare both Sophie and me.”
“You think he just wants to scare you?”
“Him? I don’t know. In the end, guys like him often turn out to be bullies who can’t stand up against any show of strength.”
Ethan nodded. “Did he say anything threatening at all?”
“No. Just that Sophie was a beautiful child.”
“Could he have any other motive?”
“Why would he? He kicked me in the stomach when I was pregnant. Does that sound like a man who wants his child?”
“That sounds like a man who feels threatened.”
“Exactly. And maybe now he’s angry because I sent him to prison. But I’m not the woman he used to kick around.”
“I’m sure you’re not.”
She looked at Ethan, determination in every line of her. “If it’s Leo, we could put his photo out there. At least among the deputies.”
“How sure are you?”
She paused thoughtfully. Finally she said, “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but close to it. He only said one thing, which didn’t give me much to go on, considering how shocked I was. It was like I lost all sense for a few minutes there.”
“Hardly surprising.”
“Yeah.” Then she astonished him by taking his hand and holding it. “You’re a godsend, Ethan.”
“No. Just a guy who happened to be in the right place when needed.”
Her smile was pinched. “I think you have a worse self-image than I do. And it’s not right. I can tell what a good man you are. Yeah, you did some awful things, but you didn’t do them alone. You did them because I and every other person in this country asked them of you.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh,” she said gently. “It’s true. You were in the service. You got your orders from this country, and you went. If there’s any guilt in what you did, we all share it. All of us. We can’t claim lily-white hands because we didn’t put on a uniform. Not in this country.”
He didn’t respond, seeming to lack the words.
“You know it’s true, Ethan. You do the dirty work we ask you to do. Whatever gloss we put on it, however high we hold the flag and however loud we cry the justifications, you and your fellow soldiers are just carrying out our will. Sometimes you’ll be sure it was absolutely right. But I suspect that in all wars the people on the front lines often wind up wondering what they’ve done and what it makes them.”
“Connie—”
“Listen to me. Just remember, when you walk down a street, that you didn’t do a damn thing all the rest of us walking those same streets didn’t ask of you. Didn’t send you there to do.”
Her grip on his hand had grown vise tight, and he squeezed back. Finally he gave a short, mirthless laugh and said, “I guess this is a night for therapy.”
“Or a night for putting things into perspective. You tried to help me see I wasn’t responsible for what Leo did. Well, you need to understand that just because you were the tip of the spear doesn’t make you any more responsible than the rest of us, the spear throwers.”
For a few moments he seemed about to argue with her, but then tension seeped from him. Before she knew what to expect, she was swept up into his arms and being carried up the stairs as if she weighed nothing at all.
She didn’t make a sound, didn’t offer a protest. How could she? Nothing had ever felt so right as being in his arms.
He
