Bridal Reconnaissance (19 page)

The others turned away, busying themselves with carrying coffee out to the guards and deputies, leaving Amanda alone with Evan.

“They don’t want to tell me,” she surmised from their fast retreat.

“Neither do I, Amanda.”

“But you promised you wouldn’t lie to me, and I need to know.”

He rubbed a hand over the dark shadow on his unshaven jaw, the clenched muscles tightening. “First off, you have to believe that none of this is your fault. Not what happened to Snake, not the accident—”

“He killed again? Who?”

“A retired schoolteacher who refused to sell him that boat early this morning.”

“And he killed him?” She caught the shadow of horror haunting Evan’s dark eyes. “He killed him as gruesomely as he killed Snake. That’s why the sheriff wanted you there, to identify the murderer by identifying the method of murder.”

“Amanda—”

“No, Evan, you don’t have to shield me from the truth. I’m not as fragile as you think.” She remembered the way she’d talked to Weering, the way she’d laughed at his threats. “I’m not as fragile as
I
think.”

And she was counting on that to help her stay away from those she loved.

He trailed a finger over her cheek where she didn’t even know she had shed a tear until it glistened on his knuckle. Tears for another victim.

“We’ll find him, Amanda. We’ll keep you safe.”

His hand dropped back to his side, then he turned to follow the others outside, probably to interrogate the security guards and deputies. Lindsey passed him as she came back in, and her punch on his shoulder was full of affection.

“I owe you,” the other woman said as she strode toward the coffeepot.

“It’s fine. I’m supposed to limit my caffeine.”

“What? Oh, the migraines. Sarah told me about them when I dropped my daughter at their house.”

“You have a daughter?” Evan had a niece.

Lindsey’s lips lifted in an enormous smile. “A gorgeous baby girl. Handful despite her name. Serena.”

“That’s beautiful. I don’t know why I chose Christopher, but the name was one of the few in my head.”

“You didn’t look at Evan’s name on that marriage license he showed you? That’s his middle name.”

Pain flashed in Amanda’s temple. Being in Winter Falls with her husband had just about destroyed that protective block she’d built in her mind. When it was gone, what other memories would tumble back? More memories of the attack?

“But while I owe you some coffee—” Lindsey lifted the empty pot “—that’s not what I was talking about.”

Curious, Amanda settled onto a stool at the counter. “Then what?”

“I owe you because before you left him—”

Amanda winced, wishing she could change the past, wishing she didn’t have to leave him again.

“—you told Evan to find his family. If he hadn’t searched for his biological parents, he never would have found me.”

Then the woman snorted. “I hope I’m enough to make up for the rest.”

“The rest? I don’t understand. I really don’t remember…”

“Much. You do remember some things, Amanda. You know that Evan’s a good man. A man you can trust. Remember that.”

How much did this woman see? Had she guessed Amanda’s plan to leave?

Lindsey sighed. “I probably shouldn’t do this. He should tell you himself, but he won’t. Just like he didn’t tell me about the threats against you, about that man on the loose. I pried that out of my husband.”

A look of annoyance crossed the woman’s features. “So I almost died having Serena, I’m not fragile.”

The very idea of this feisty woman being anything but strong had Amanda laughing. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re the last person I’d consider fragile.”

“Same here. You’re strong. Hell, you blinded the guy. And I heard the end of that phone conversation. You laughed at him. That took a lot of guts.”

“Or stupidity.”

“My husband will want a word-for-word account of what was said—”

Looking to change the subject, Amanda interrupted. “Christopher will be up soon.” She’d checked on him again before she’d come downstairs and he’d been smiling in his sleep. She hadn’t had the heart to wake him.

“Let me make this quick, then, and I’ll watch him when he wakes up. And don’t worry, I’m good with kids. Who’d have thought I’d be a good mother?”

Amanda shook her head.

“My mother wasn’t. She was a mess. She’s Evan’s mother, too.”

“The rest?”

“It gets worse. We never knew for sure why she was so messed up. She’d been raped as a teenager, and her parents had forced her to give that baby up for adoption.”

Tears burned in Amanda’s eyes for the raped woman’s pain and sacrifice. “Evan?”

Lindsey nodded. “He just found out a while ago and it’s eating him alive. He thinks he’s defective now. Doesn’t help that when you took off, he got no support from his adoptive parents. They actually believed he might have harmed you, maybe even killed you. Crazy. Anyway, the police even looked at him like he was an abusive husband who had done away with his wife.”

Guilt tore at Amanda. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember much, like you said. But I know he never physically harmed me.”

“And emotionally we all get hurt. It’s a fact of life, Amanda. And we have all hurt others whether we meant to or not. Another fact of life.”

“You’re saying I hurt him when I left?”

Lindsey nodded. “And I wanted to hate you for it, but I can’t.”

“Because you feel sorry for me?”

Her sister-in-law snorted. “Hell, no. Because I
don’t
feel sorry for you.”

They both turned at the sound of little feet padding across the slate floor. Christopher treated them to a sleepy smile. “Hi.”

“Oh, there goes my heart again. Lost. Hi, little man!” His aunt crouched near him. “I’m not much of a cook. What do you like for breakfast?”

Amanda would have offered to cook for them all, but the front door opened and the men returned. And she knew she had to relate some information and relive a nightmare of a phone call.

As she headed down the hall to meet the guys in
the den, she overhead Christopher requesting cinnamon rolls.

Lindsey snorted. “I can’t eat those anymore. How about cereal?”

She wouldn’t have to worry when she left Christopher with his father. They would both have a wealth of support. She’d be the one alone. Again.

R
AGE POUNDED
at Evan’s temples. He wanted to hurt Weering for what he had done to Amanda six years ago and for what he was doing now.

Terrorizing her. And Evan had no way to stop him.

Spending the afternoon listening to her repeat every word that sick bastard had said to her had him torn between wanting to take her into his arms and never letting her go, and never touching her again because he feared he might hurt her, too.

Even now, hours later, he still felt split in two. But he had to control these feelings, had to put on a calm reassuring face for his wife and son.

He played with Christopher. But even as his heart swelled with joy and pride in his smart loving son, anger churned in him. Not for all the years he’d missed, but at the man who had stolen them.

Amanda would have told him about his son. If she had remembered him. He knew that.

Through the fogged glass of his bathroom mirror he stared at his own reflection, wondering how he would feel if he were Amanda and couldn’t recognize his own face. Didn’t know who he was.

Scared. Lost.

But she’d gone on. She’d forged a life for herself
and her child. No, she wasn’t fragile as he’d thought. She was far stronger than the woman he’d married.

A small hand streaked the steam on the mirror and a little face, so like his, leaned close, refogging the cleared area. “I think I need to shave, too,” Christopher said, solemnly.

“You think, huh?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow at this serious statement.

“Yeah.” Chubby fingers slid over his chin, still round with baby fat. “I’m getting a beard.”

“You are? So that’s what that is.” Amusement teased Evan, luring him from the dark anger that had gripped him. His fingers trailed along the path the chubby ones had taken, smearing shaving cream along the baby-soft skin.

Then, after emptying the blades from his razor, he passed it to his son. “You better get rid of that stubble.”

Christopher solemnly nodded. “Yup.”

A muffled giggle tinkled behind him, and Evan lifted his gaze to the mirror, catching sight of the woman who had haunted him the last six years, and who had consumed him since he’d met her.

The last vestiges of the anger, still smoldering, turned to passion.

Need. He needed her. Needed to make love to her and assure himself that she was alive, that she was strong. Last night he’d held himself back. He’d controlled his baser urges and managed gentleness.

Tonight he was incapable of any tender emotions. He wanted to ravage. So he had to keep his distance.

For both their sakes.

But she stopped hovering near the doorjamb and
edged closer, stepping between him and his son to swipe a finger along Christopher’s foamy chin. “Smooth shave.”

“Daddy taught me. Feel his face.”

Evan swallowed hard as his gaze met Amanda’s in the mirror. Her green eyes darkened as her pupils dilated, and he caught the quick little gasp of her breath.

“He’s hard but smooth,” Christopher added.

Amanda’s lips curved into a sensuous grin. “Hmm… Is he?”

When she lifted her fingers to his jaw, Evan caught her hand. But then he couldn’t deny himself her touch. With their son present it would be safe. To regain control, he guided her hand along his face, his gaze hot on hers in the mirror. When her palm slid across his mouth, he pressed a kiss to the silky flesh.

Despite her heavy sweater and the steam billowing around them, she shivered.

“All done!” Christopher announced.

Amanda jumped, and color rushed into her face. “You brushed your teeth already?”

“Uh-huh.” He held out his arms, linking them around her neck as she lifted him down from the bathroom counter.

“You got your jammies kind of wet,” Amanda said, taking notice of their son’s damp outfit. “Maybe we better change those before you go to bed. I’ve unpacked all your stuff.”

“My books?”

Although her eyes sparkled, her voice was stern when she told him, “Only one story tonight, mister. You had a busy day and you need your rest.”

But Evan found them on the second book when he
leaned against the jamb of Christopher’s bedroom. She had unpacked his toys, scattering them about the room on shelves and the windowsill, probably to make him feel more at home.

But would this ever be Christopher’s home? When Weering was jailed again, wouldn’t she want to return to River City and the life she had built there?

And knowing what he did about himself, Evan couldn’t stop her. He’d have to let them go. Both of them.

Pain constricted his heart, and he had to drag in a quick breath. They both glanced up.

“You’re going to tuck me in again?” Christopher asked, his dark eyes warm with hope. “We’re done with the story.”

“The second story?”

Amanda giggled and leaned over to kiss Christopher’s cheek. “He’s a persuasive little guy. I couldn’t say no.” She nuzzled his neck, causing him to squirm and giggle. “I love you, my baby.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m a big boy!” Even though his bottom lip pouted, his eyes shone with love.

“I’m sorry. You
are
a big boy. Just remember that your mother will always love you no matter how big you get!”

When she stood up and passed Evan on her way out, her eyes were damp with unshed tears. He reached out, intending to offer comfort with his touch. But she brushed past him.

“Mommy’s sad,” Christopher said with a sleepy sigh. “Will you cheer her up?”

Evan doubted he could bring her anything but more
sadness, but he offered his son a reassuring smile. “I’ll give it my best try, okay? Now you go to sleep.”

He pulled the comforter to the little chin, wiping one last smear of shaving cream from his skin. “Nice shave.”

“Daddy?”

His heart jumped with emotion. With love. “Yes, Christopher?”

“I love you.”

He gathered the little boy tight in his arms. “I love you, too.”

When he finally released him and staggered into the hall, his emotions were raw. And Amanda, standing outside the door, was too close. Too tempting.

Chapter Eleven

He had to kiss her.

Just one kiss.

He stepped toward her and his lips touched hers, tasting the sweetness that was pure Amanda.

Just one more kiss.

A little voice called out through the open bedroom door. “Daddy?”

Evan lifted his head as desire warred with restraint. “Yes, Christopher?” His voice rasped.

“Are you kissing Mommy good-night?”

“Yes, yes, I am.”

That was all it could be, no matter how much more he wanted. He’d taken advantage last night. He wouldn’t do that again.

“Not good-night,” she murmured. “Not yet. We need to talk, Evan.”

Her fingers threaded through his, and she tugged him away from their son’s room, calling out another good-night to Christopher.

“Amanda, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’ve had a long day, too.”

“I need to say some things to you. I owe you an
apology.” Her bare feet padded across the catwalk leading to the master bedroom. And he let her lead even though he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and drag her to his bed.

Inside the darkened bedroom, she shut the door at his back. “I’m sorry, Evan. I was terrible this morning. Jealous. Resentful. I had no right to any of that.”

He shrugged a bare shoulder, trying to keep things casual even while he fought against the urge to throw her on the bed still rumpled from last night and ravage her. “I should have told you where I was going,” he responded, hoping his words hid his thoughts.

“I would have insisted on coming, too.” She knew him well enough to know his reasoning. “And you wouldn’t have let me. One way or another, I guess we would have fought.”

“You didn’t need to see the result of that man’s violence again.” He sighed and dragged a hand over his face.
He
hadn’t needed to see it again. “And you didn’t need to talk to that monster again, either. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Amanda. I should have refused to leave you.”