Page 11 of If She Only Knew (The Cahills 1)

“I know this is crazy,” Nick said to Tough Guy as he thew a couple of sweaters into his duffel bag. He walked through his bedroom to the bathroom where he searched under the sink, found his shaving kit and stuffed in his electric razor and a stick of deodorant. From the bathroom door he pitched the kit into the open bag.

The mutt was lying on a braided rug at the foot of his bed, head on his paws, sad eyes watching Nick’s every move.

“I’ll be back,” Nick said, as if the dog could understand. “Soon.” He found two pairs of jeans that he added to the bundle. “Ole’s gonna take care of you and you’ll like that, believe me. He’s got a lady Doberman who is one helluva woman.”

Tough Guy wasn’t interested.

“You’ll be fine,” Nick told the dog. “Better’n me.” He zipped up the duffel and took a quick look around. This cabin, all of four pine-paneled rooms, had been more than his home; it had been his sanctuary, a place where he’d found peace after the rat race. Somewhere between adolescence and now, he’d managed to rid himself of the chip that had been so firmly attached to his shoulder, the burden of being a Cahill and living up to family expectations.

“It was all bullshit,” he explained to the dog as Tough Guy got to his three feet and hobbled after him to the living room where the cold ashes of last night’s fire lay in the stone grate and the smell of burnt wood lingered in the air. Nick scowled as he thought that he’d never really measured up to Cahill standards; his father had expected Nick to break free of Alex’s shadow, to best his older brother.

Samuel Cahill had wound up disappointed. It served the bastard right. The old man could rot in his grave for all Nick cared.

The phone jangled and Nick swore. He considered not bothering to answer. Instead, he dropped his duffel bag on the floor and in three swift steps picked up the receiver on the second ring, then growled, “Hello.”

“Nick?” a woman with a slightly agitated and whispery voice asked. “Nicholas Cahill?”

“Who’s this?”

“Cherise.”

His cousin. His heart sank. No matter what she wanted, it was bound to be bad news.

“Boy, you’re a difficult person to track down. I almost had to hire a private detective to find out where you were.” She laughed nervously.

“But you didn’t.”

“No . . . Directory assistance.”

Nick scowled, sat on the edge of his corduroy couch. He pictured Cherise as he’d last seen her, with blond hair, pale gold eyes, and not an ounce of body fat on her tiny body. She’d had a perpetual tan, overdone her makeup, and had puppydogged after him when they were kids. He’d liked her then, before both she and he had found their own separate brands of trouble and drifted apart. The good times were over; had been for twenty years. “So, Cherise, how’re ya?”

“I’m fine,” she said in a voice that didn’t instill confidence. “Actually, I’m wonderful these days. I’ve found the Lord.”

Great, he thought cynically. Just damned great. “Is that right?”

“My life . . . my life’s been turned around.”

“I guess that’s good.” Nick wasn’t religious, and didn’t really think much about it; but if Cherise wanted to be born again, that was all well and good. She’d always been one to follow the latest trend. The way he figured it, if Cherise were proclaiming her love for the Son of God, Christianity must be in vogue.

“Yes, it is. I thank Jesus every day.”

“And the kids?” He glanced out the window to the gray day.

“Oh, they’re . . . fine. Good. Teenagers.” She sighed theatrically. “The Lord certainly has his work cut out for him with those three, I’m afraid.”

Nick waited. Pleasantries were over. Surely there was a reason she’d hunted him down. He hadn’t talked to her in over fifteen years. There was a few tense seconds of silence and then she drew in a breath.

“I, um, I’m calling about Marla.”

His gut tightened but he wasn’t surprised. “I heard about the accident,” he admitted. “Alex came to see me.”

“Oh.”

That caught her off guard, cut her short for a second. But Cherise was a quick thinker; she always landed on her feet.

“Well, we can all thank Jesus that she’s alive.”

Amen.

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