So Dark The Night

“You better. And keep me posted on Emma St. James.”

“Will do.” Roy quickly hung up, his hand trembling so badly he dropped the receiver into its cradle, its loud sound snaking down his spine.

Emma felt the warmth of the sunshine as it flooded the room and slanted across her bed. Earlier she’d heard the nurse opening the curtain and had wondered why the woman even bothered, because it didn’t make any difference whether there was light in the room or not. But she hadn’t voiced her thought aloud.

As with the day before, darkness greeted her. To keep her panic at bay she kept her eyes closed, pretending the darkness was due to that rather than the fact she couldn’t see anymore. She didn’t like pity parties and had never allowed herself one. But then she had never been blind before, either. She’d never lost the one person who had understood her, accepted her for who she was.

Clasping the sides of her head, she shuddered. “Don’t go there, Emma. Not a good place.” Another shudder trembled through her body, leaving a coldness in its wake.

The door swishing open intruded into her thoughts, bringing her straight up in bed to turn her face toward the noise. “Who is it?” She couldn’t shake the idea she could be a target. Even though she had bravely told her father the day before that she could take care of herself, she had her doubts.

“Colin Fitzpatrick.”

The tension siphoned from her at the velvet smoothness of his voice as though he could mesmerize a person with its mere sound. “Nothing’s changed. I’m past saving.”

“No one’s past saving if she wants to be saved.”

“I don’t know if I agree with you, but come on in since you’re here.” The idea that she didn’t have to spend the next few minutes alone lifted her spirits. But she wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone, especially Reverend Colin Fitzpatrick. “What brings you by?”

“You.”

His answer made her spirits rise even more, and she didn’t understand why. She leaned toward the sound of his voice. “I’m getting out of here later this afternoon. I get to escape all the poking and prodding.”

“Where are you going when you escape?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea. Any suggestions?”

“Actually, I do.”

His words took her by surprise and that didn’t happen very often. “Where?” she asked, a breathless quality to her voice, her mouth and throat still so parched she felt she’d eaten a bowl of cotton for lunch.

“My aunt’s. She has extended an invitation for you to stay with her.”

“Why? She doesn’t know me.”

“I asked her to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

“Do you think I’m helpless?”

“No.”

“Do you think I’m in danger?”

“It’s a possibility and my aunt can certainly take care of you.”

“Is she with the police?”

“She’s retired from the army, but her last job was teaching people how to defend themselves.”

When he had said retired, a vision of a woman in her sixties or seventies, white haired, bent over, popped into Emma’s mind. Even if his aunt had taught self-defense and had been in the army, she was hardly someone who could take care of her. “How old is she?”

“Forty-six.”

“And she’s retired?”

“Only from the army. She writes children’s books now.”

Conflicting images flowed through her mind—none of them of someone who she thought could protect her. “If your aunt’s forty-six, how old are you? Twenty?”

“Thirty-six, so she’s more like a big sister than an aunt, and she won’t let me call her Aunt Grace. Just Grace.”

His answer sent relief through her and she wasn’t sure why. “I still don’t understand how a stranger would want to help me.”

“You’ll understand when you meet Grace. My daughters practically live over at her house. They think she’s cool.”

“Daughters? You’re married?” Of course, he would be. Why would she think otherwise and why had she bothered to ask?

“My wife died four years ago. I have fifteen-year-old twins who have tested this father’s patience on more than one occasion.”

Exasperation roughened his voice, masking his Southern drawl. Emma laughed. “That’s what teenage girls are put on this earth for.”

“To test fathers’ patience?”

“To be exasperating.” Memories of her own father, absent from her teenage years, flooded her mind and all laughter faded.

“Then they have fulfilled their calling. So what do you say? Want to spend some time in Crystal Springs recovering?”

Thinking about the blank pages of her mind chilled her to the marrow of her bones. Whom should she trust?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.