Page 19 of Ambush

“I’ve noticed.”

“The boys are helping me get over it. And you.” She dared a peek at his expression at her admission. His blue eyes held a warmth and tenderness she hadn’t seen in so long. The intensity made her uncomfortable.

The moon came out from behind a cloud, and the light touched the trees with a silvery glimmer. A memory slammed into her out of nowhere. A glimmer of moonlight slanting through her bedroom window followed by a scream. She’d bolted upright when the scream pealed again. Her mother’s.

“Paradise?” Blake stopped the truck in the middle of the quiet street.

She shook off the terror of the memory and swallowed hard. “I—I remembered something. I heard my mom scream that night. There was a loud thump too, and I was too scared to move for a few seconds, then I slid off the bed and hid under it. Steps went past my door, and when they proceeded down the hall, I crawled out from under my bed and hid in the closet.”

“Do you remember anything else? A voice maybe? Did someone come into your room?”

The moisture in her mouth dried up, and she shook her head. He reached over and took her hand, and she let him. The physical touch grounded her. She was fine—it was a memory, nothing more. No one was lurking in the darker shadows under the tupelo trees.

She finally found her voice. “I’m okay. You can drive on.”

His hand squeezed hers one last time before he placed it back on the steering wheel. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as he drove down the road. Her former home was lit up, and light streamed from nearly every window. She spotted the little girl she’d seen the day she arrived in town. A television flickered across the room, and the child sat entranced. Paradise remembered evenings like this one. Her mom and dad had often watched a kids’ movie with her, or they would play Go Fish or a board game.

Her vision blurred, and she didn’t realize she was crying until Blake parked along the road and slid across the bench seat to slip his arm around her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed for the life that had once been and would never come again.

***

Paradise would think he was a total slob. Blake glanced around the tiny space above the garage and tried to see it through hereyes. A couple of books on fly-fishing lay open on the sofa, and his fishing rod, tackle box, and waders occupied too much space in the corner behind the brown tweed sofa. A distinctly fishy odor permeated the air too.

He grabbed up his fishing gear. “I’ll stash this stuff somewhere else, and you can air out the room. Mom changed the sheets, but she didn’t get a chance to clear out my belongings. Give me fifteen minutes to grab it all.”

She didn’t seem perturbed at the state of the place. “I’ll help. I hate taking your apartment. Are you sure there isn’t another cottage available?”

“Everything else is occupied.”

“This is occupied too. Where are you going to stay?”

“I’ll be in the main house. Mom has it all planned out.” He didn’t mention he’d likely be bunking with one of his brothers. “I’m used to being in a barracks, so I can sleep anywhere. It won’t be much of an adjustment for me.”

“I appreciate it.”

Though she didn’t mention it, he knew she had no real choice. The Sanctuary didn’t have the funds to increase her salary, and she wouldn’t be able to pay rent with what they could pay. Now that they’d talked, he understood why she’d taken the shoestring wage they could afford.

She headed to the closet and began to pull out boxes. “I’ll start with these.”

He whipped around. “No, I’ll get those. Some of them are heavy.”And personal.

Before he could move her out of the way, one of the boxes tilted and slid off the top of the other one in her hands. The top opened, and the contents spilled onto the floorboards. Blake froze as everything he’d hoped to hide from her rolled into view.The set of Harry Potter novels she’d given him for Christmas that last year peeked out the top of the box along with the other items he’d kept all these years.

She dropped to her knees and tugged the books the rest of the way out of the box, then lifted out the other items. The snow globe she’d given him for Christmas the first year, notes she’d written him in class, tickets to the school play when he’d kissed her for the first time. All the memories he sometimes pulled out with regret lay exposed in a pathetic little pile. If she didn’t already think he was a total loser, she would now.

Her guarded expression dropped away. Her amber eyes held the old softness he hadn’t spotted in years. This wasn’t the time to air old feelings. But were those feelings gone, or had they just moved underground?

His face burned as he knelt and began to toss the items back into the box. “This stuff has been stored up here forever. I’ll take care of clearing out the closet if you want to pack up my books in the bookcase.”

Her fingers brushed his hand as she took the globe from him. “You still have this. My dad gave it to me when I was a kid. I’d forgotten I gave it to you.” She shook it and the white snow swirled down on the boy and girl skating by a red barn and a two-story farmhouse. “His parents gave it to him when he was ten. He always said it reminded him of growing up in Indiana. My grandparents lived on a farm like this.”

“I remember. You should take it back.”

“I wanted you to have it.”

“But your mementos burned up. It’s a piece of your dad.” He pressed it into her hand. “Please take it, Paradise.”

She hesitated before her fingers closed around it. “It might help me remember.” She turned back to the items in the box and pickedup the ticket stubs forHarry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Her eyes went misty.

---