Page 21 of Crossroads of Innocence
Wrigley ran to Macey and sniffed at her jacket as if he’d find a treat tucked inside.
“Does he need a leash?” she asked, glancing around for something she could use to tie onto his camo collar.
“Nah. Tucker trained him. He’ll stay close.”
Frowning, she laced up her sneakers and threaded her arms through her black leather jacket. “Tucker trains dogs?”
“Yep. He works at the retreat I told you about. Another old pal who went into law enforcement—K9 unit. He now runs the canine therapy for Brooke. Does a damn good job. He tried to help me with Macey once I had her full time, but she’s pretty set in her ways.”
She kept her questions to herself as she stepped onto the deck and descended the stairs. He hadn’t mentioned much about his mom, a woman she’d loved as much as her own mother, and she was dying to understand why Wade now had her dog and lived above the bar. Convenience might be a factor, but the old office space wasn’t meant for permanent living. A nagging feeling told her there was more to the story than Wade had shared, but it wasn’t her place to ask.
Once on the lawn in the backyard, she lifted her face toward the afternoon sun. The pressure squeezing her chest loosened. She needed this. Needed to be outside, soaking in the mountain views and feeling the rush of nature. The air might be cool, but the sunshine beamed down and heated her skin just enough to tolerate the wind.
“Beautiful,” Wade said.
His thick, gritty voice had her shifting her position and dropping her gaze to meet his. “Excuse me?”
The sudden pink of his cheeks had nothing to do with the bite of the breeze. He scratched at the whiskers on his chin. “The day. It’s a beautiful day. Chilly, but pretty.”
The slight stammering of his words lifted her lips. She could let his statement go and pretend like she didn’t understand he’d been talking about her. But she’d always loved watching him squirm. And something about being back in this town, back in these woods with him, made her act a little more impulsively—a little more like the girl she’d left behind. “You’re a horrible liar. Always have been.”
He grinned. “A pretty girl’s standing in front of me, I’ve got to say something.”
She tilted her head to the side and fought not to widen her smile. “All that boyish charm’s gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”
The amusement fled from his face and he changed direction, heading for the narrow path that wound around the pond. “Trust me. I stay as far away from trouble nowadays as I can.”
She rushed her pace to fall into step beside him. “And here I am, bringing it to your doorstep. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think about the danger, and I should have.”
Wrigley jogged ahead, his nose pressed to the ground.
He stopped and faced her. The ice on the pond beyond him shimmering. He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, as if the motion would help him think. Something he’d done since he was a kid. “I’m glad you came back, even if the reason sucks. A part of me thought I’d never see you again. No matter what happens from here on out, I’m happy to have a chance to at least leave things with you on a better note.”
She hated she’d hurt him, but a bite of resentment had her wrapping her arms over her middle—creating a physical shield around her battered heart. “I never wanted to say goodbye to you. Ever.”
“Then why did you?”
The question stalled her breath. A million reasons—a million instances—had pushed her to run away. But it was Wade’s refusal to run with her that made her never look back. Unable to stare into his sad eyes without spilling her guts, she continued walking along the water. She’d answer his question, but she wouldn’t tell him everything.
She couldn’t.
“I ran because I was dying here.” She wished the pain she carried inside could dissipate as easily as her admission that came out on in a spiraling puff of air.
He caught her by the crook of the arm and turned her toward him. “Dying? In Pine Valley? What does that mean?”
She ran her fingers along the base of her neck, the familiar feeling of panic cutting off her windpipe. Abuse came in many different shapes and sizes. It came in ugly words and accusations, in the withholding of love and acceptance. Child abuse was something she’d lived with for so long, the fear of her father ingrained in her from her earliest memories, that she hadn’t even recognized it. Hadn’t realized that even though she didn’t carry bruises, it didn’t mean that her father’s behavior hadn’t left scars.
Scars she feared no one would ever believe she carried.
The slamming of a car door echoed against trees. Wrigley halted, his ears pinned back and tail rigid.
Her eyes widened and she stilled. “Who’s that?”
Wade surveyed the area. “I don’t know, but we should take cover.”
He offered his hand.
She hesitated for only a second before she gladly accepted and followed him into the dense brush of the surrounding trees.
