Читать книгу Erin's Way - Laura Browning - Страница 8

Sam woke up and lay still for a moment, instantly alert, darkness thick around him. The time he’d spent in the military had left a lasting effect. He assessed his surroundings, listening for what had awakened him. He heard it again. Crying. Who? Erin.

She never cried. Even as a kid. It was one of the things he’d always remembered about her. With Stoner in her face, she’d been dry-eyed and defiant, as tough and hardheaded as any of the Richardsons.

Sam bolted out of bed, snatched a pair of sweat pants over his boxers, which were already a concession to having a female in the house, and padded silently along the hallway. She lay on the couch, curled on her side toward the woodstove. He started to say something to her, then realized she still slept. He approached her cautiously. God, when had he ever approached Erin with anything but caution? He squatted next to her.

“Don’t hurt them,” she mumbled. “Not Matty!”

“Erin,” he coaxed. “Come on, baby, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

Suddenly he was pinned by her dark, blue-gray gaze. With awareness of where she was and who stared at her, her expression changed. She wiped away the emotion and her look became unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked, knowing any additional sympathy would put her on the attack.

“Yeah.” She laughed cynically. “It was a stupid dream. Sorry if I woke you up. Was I yelling?”

Sam half smiled. “Yeah.” No way would he tell her she had cried. He had never, ever seen Erin cry, not when she broke her arm, not when Stoner put her pony down because it jumped the fence and was hit by a car, and not even when he had dragged her out of Sam’s bed. Erin never cried. To hear she did so in her sleep? It ripped his guts right out. Even if she believed him, he couldn’t imagine how mortified she would be. “Uh. I was up anyway. You want a cup of tea?”

Erin snorted. “Only if you can lace it with some bourbon.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Sorry, I got enough of alcohol when my father was alive.” Sure he took a drink now and then, but he wasn’t about to tell her he had booze in the house.

She rolled away from him. Once again, he stared at her stiff back. Obviously their conversation was over as far as she was concerned. Sam forced himself to walk away. He shouldn’t think about her. He didn’t want or need a complication like Erin. The problem was that every time he started dating other women, he compared them to her. Somehow, they ended up too boring, too stupid, or too weak-spirited. And boy would that be embarrassing if anyone knew, the bachelor lawman and the wild child of Richardson Homestead. Too much history stretched between them. He thought of the birth control pills again. She had moved on, and so should he.

Sam heated water in the microwave, dumped a teabag in, and waited for it to steep. He remembered when Erin had crashed the party at the country club last fall. She had been stoned out of her head, maybe drunk as well, but underneath, the feisty defiance that had always called to him was still there. It had been enough to make him step between her and Stoner when her father would have slapped her.

“Sam?”

He turned so abruptly he nearly spilled his tea. Erin stood there leaning against the doorjamb. She had changed into some kind of baggy cotton pants and a long sleeved, high-necked shirt that hung nearly to her knees. Such modest attire for sleeping made for a contrast that was hard to reconcile with what she wore in public.

“What is it?” he asked, rubbing the ache in the back of his neck. He didn’t want to play any more games.

“I—tea would be okay.” The defensiveness was gone from her voice. It actually sounded like she was making an effort to be friendly, even if she didn’t quite meet his gaze. Sam wanted her to look at him with the same intensity; he was relieved she didn’t. It didn’t make sense, but then whatever it was between the two of them never had.

While he grabbed another mug, filled, and nuked it, she wandered restlessly around the room, her delicate fingers touching things here and there until finally she stood next to him. Next to, but not touching him. He’d encountered wild animals less wary than Erin.

She was still no bigger than a mosquito, he thought, smiling inwardly. The top of her head was no higher than his chest. He thought of Stoner…taller still than him, and Catherine…herself a tall, slender woman. Evan was also tall. Erin must have felt like a misfit from the very beginning in that family. Meeting Tabby wouldn’t have changed her mind. Her half sister was somewhere around five-ten.

“Why did you come back?” Sam asked. He hadn’t meant to. God only knew it was none of his business, and he didn’t want it to be his business. He needed to be smart, remain aloof, but sometime what he knew logically, his heart wouldn’t obey.

“Would you believe me if I said I discovered a desire for hearth and home?”

Sam chuckled. “No.”

She grinned at him, but the shadows still lingered on her elfin face. “I came back because I have the hots for you. Would you believe that?”

His heart pounded, and other parts too, at just the thought of it.

“No.” But he wanted to. Man, did he want to. “I hardly think we would be a perfect fit, Erin.”

She flashed a smile. “The druggy and the lawman. Probably not.” She prowled the room again, stopping and striking a dramatic pose and tone. “What if I said I ran away from a member of a notorious crime family, and I believe he might still try to find me and kill me?”

Sam stared at the way she had her hand clutched to her chest, and he laughed.

Erin tilted her head and grinned. “No one would believe that, would they? Silly of me. I’ll simply have to think of something more plausible.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

She shook her head. As she took the tea, he noticed the faint tremor in her hands and wondered if it was leftover from her nightmare, or a function of all the substance abuse. He pulled a chair out and sat, but Erin continued to prowl. If it wasn’t so much a part of who she was, it would have made him uneasy, but she had been constantly on the move as a child too, always searching, always looking for the next diversion.

“I’m sorry about your fence.” She paused, but almost immediately her gaze shifted restlessly around, looking anywhere but at him, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him. Once upon a time, she’d worshiped him, now her avoidance was as painful as a slap. “I—I saw a deer, a cow, or something in the road and swerved. Let me know what I can do to fix it.”

Sam studied her, sizing her up. He wanted her to stick around. Somewhere deep inside, he knew she was looking for an excuse as well. Gut feeling told him this might be the last chance they had to find out what, if anything, there was between them. As much as logic and reason told him to stay away, his heart had always carried another message. His heart won.

“I could use some help around the farm. My hired hand has pneumonia and calving season just started. I’d pay you, minus the cost of the fence of course.” Before he’d even finished speaking, his subconscious was screaming at him. What was he thinking?

Erin stared at him. “Of course. What exactly did you want me to do? Cook? Clean?”

Sam blinked. Have her in the house? That would be too close for comfort. “I need help with the livestock. You’d have to check fences, water troughs. Ride out during the day when I have to be at work. Help feed and muck out.”

Erin wrinkled her aristocratic, little nose. “You want me to shovel cow shit?” Her voice rose on a note of incredulity as she finished.

Sam grinned. “And horse manure too. How long do you plan to stay?”

Erin shrugged. “A few hours, a few weeks. I don’t know, Sam. I guess until I’ve worn out my welcome. Last time that didn’t take long. In fact, I think it was worn out before I even arrived.”

“Are you on vacation from that job on the ship?” She never had given him a straight answer about why she’d returned.

“You could say that.” She avoided his eyes, continued her prowling.

Sam clenched his teeth in frustration. She was as forthcoming with information as usual. “Isn’t this your busy time?”

Erin set her cup in the sink with a distinct click of ceramic against porcelain. “I’m tired. If you want help, I’ll help, but let’s leave examining my life out of it, okay? It’s not part of the deal.”

“Right.” Sam stood and came up behind her to put his cup in the sink next to hers. For a moment their bodies touched, and it was like the completion of an electrical circuit; sparks shot between them. Sam jerked away. “I’ll show you what to do over the next couple days. Then I’m back to work on Monday.”

She nodded warily, shifting away from him. So she felt it too, and it made her nervous.

* * * *

Erin caught the coveralls and baseball cap Sam tossed at her the next morning. “I’m going to ride out and check fences. While I’m doing that, you can muck out stalls.”

Erin wrinkled her nose at the heavy, insulated coveralls. She preferred softer materials, but she knew this would keep her warm.

“Try some of the boots near the back door. You might find a pair that fits.” Sam ducked out the door so fast Erin had to believe he was trying to get away from her. Her mouth twisted. Nothing new there.

After finding a pair of boots that would actually stay on her feet, Erin slogged across the barnyard. She paused inside the door and inhaled the familiar scents. She’d spent a lot of time in the barn at Richardson Homestead as a kid…until Daddy had put her pony down. Her gaze skittered around the storage area just inside the door. Erin grabbed a manure fork and the wheelbarrow and began shoveling the soiled bedding.

About mid-morning, she heard a vehicle pull into the farmyard. The nervous flutter in her stomach was beyond her control. The wheelbarrow was full, so Erin pulled the cap low over her eyes and pushed it outside, partly to empty it, partly to see who was there. With the cap on, chances were excellent no one would recognize her immediately. That might be the advantage she needed if… No, she wasn’t going there. She was safe here.

“Hey, kid!” a voice she hadn’t heard in years called. “You seen Sam? I brought his truck back. I need to pick my sister up and get him to drive us back to my parents’ house.”

Erin let the wheelbarrow drop to the ground and pushed her cap back. Evan’s gray eyes, so like Daddy’s, widened.

“Erin? What… What the hell are you doing?”

His tone, as much as his words, put her on the defensive. She stuck her chin out pugnaciously. “You’re the freaking brain, Evan. What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m shoveling horse shit.”

“Why?” Evan’s brows pulled together. “Did Sam force you to do this?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I wanted a job. Sam gave me one. It will pay him back for busting his fence.”

Evan arched one thick brow. “Wouldn’t it be easier to write a check?”

“He needed help. I’m helping.” Not even a full day home, and both Evan and her father were questioning her every move.

Evan followed her into the barn where she picked out the next stall. As she worked, he watched her curiously, as if she were some kind of strange experiment. Hell, maybe she was. He didn’t know her. Probably didn’t know her as well as he knew the new darling of the family, their half sister, Tabby.

Since they had reached their teens, Erin’s encounters with him and the rest of her family could only be described as brief and painful. Most of the time she had been in one scrape or another, or out of her head on booze or drugs.

“I’m supposed to bring you home. Mother and Daddy have opened the guesthouse for you.”

She had her back to him. Good thing too. Erin pressed her lips together to contain the angry words that bubbled up inside her. The guesthouse. Not her childhood home, not the room she’d had growing up. She was relegated to the guesthouse. Erin had stopped in mid-scoop with a forkful of shavings and manure. She finished tossing them onto the wheelbarrow.

“How thoughtful of them to put their daughter in the guesthouse. Tell me, Evan, is that where the perfect Tabby stayed while she lived with them?”

“That was different, Erin. Tabby almost died. She was recovering from a serious accident.”

Erin leaned the fork against the wall and turned to look at her brother. She tilted her cap back and simply stared at him. He looked imposing, successful. He looked like a younger version of their father. She wondered if his tongue was as sharp and suspected it could wound exactly like Stoner’s.

Erin wasn’t ready to face that.

“I’m not ready to go. I’m not done yet. Sam rode out to check the herd in the back pasture. I said I would finish this and I will.”

But Sam rode back in at that point, his cheeks flushed from the cold. As Evan turned, Erin quietly returned to work. She heard Sam dismount and lead his mare into the barn. His dark gaze narrowed as it shifted from her to Evan.

“You’ve done enough today, Erin,” Sam commented. “Grab your things and I’ll run you and Evan over to the Homestead.”

Erin wanted to tell him no. She wasn’t ready for this, but she wouldn’t beg.

Sam’s gaze gentled as he continued quietly and evenly. “You have to see them, Erin, sooner or later.”

Her chin rose. “You’re not my therapist.”

Sam ignored her. “I have to go to town anyway before the farm store closes, so I can get posts and boards to start making permanent repairs to my fence now that the tow truck’s pulled your rental out.” Sam stepped up and took the pitchfork from her. “I took the rest of your joint out of the ashtray. Get your stuff, Erin. Go home. I said you could work here…not live here.”

She hated the way he saw right to her vulnerabilities. He’d always been able to do that.

“Who’d want to live with you anyway?” she snapped at Sam, “a middle-aged bachelor with the beginnings of a paunch.” She pushed at him. “Get the hell out of my way, you goon.”

She stomped past him and Evan and stopped just outside the barn to lean against the wall. Man, she didn’t want to leave Sam’s place. Just the thought of facing the rest of her family made her nearly sick.

From inside the barn, she could hear Evan and Sam. No doubt they thought she was long gone. Erin knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but as she’d learned the hard way, sometimes a person could learn valuable information that way. Yeah, like Andre wanting to kill her.

“You know, Evan,” Sam said from inside the barn, “I’ve never cared for your father much, but right now I almost feel sorry for him.” Erin blinked at the stab of pain his words caused. After a pause, Sam asked, “Am I getting a paunch?”

“Hardly,” Evan said, with a snicker, then continued, “Erin’s always had great aim with her verbal arrows. Hitting at the heart of others’ insecurities is a great diversionary tactic. I always assumed she did it to keep people from looking too closely at all of her less than desirable activities, but now I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It just seems like there’s more to her coming home.”

There sure as hell was, but Erin didn’t want to share that. She should leave. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, but she just couldn’t seem to break away and go to the house.

“I am a bit concerned about her going back, Ev. The old Stoner would rip her to shreds. What’s the new and improved one likely to do?”

“Hell if I know. She’s been a thorn in everyone’s side for years. You’ve seen that. I remember my parents missed my first varsity basketball game because Erin needed to go to the emergency room after she jumped from the hayloft onto the trampoline she’d pulled underneath the loft door and bounced off onto her head. Then at the party Stoner threw after I graduated law school, she turned up high as a kite. You wonder what the new Stoner will do? I have no clue, bro.”

Erin crept toward the house. She shouldn’t have stayed to listen. As she changed clothes and gathered her things, Evan’s words kept echoing in her brain. If that was the way everyone thought about her, then she had made a mistake in coming home, a very bad mistake.

Sam and Evan were waiting for her. Without acknowledging either one of them, Erin climbed into Sam’s truck. She sat silently in the back seat with her purse and her duffel bag clutched close to her side and glanced longingly out the window at Sam’s receding barnyard. She’d had a decent time this morning feeding and brushing horses. Even mucking out stalls. It had reminded her of spending time around the barn at home when she was little. It was the one place she’d felt at home. Animals didn’t judge.

As much as it shamed her to admit it, she was scared to go back to Richardson Homestead. She was even more frightened to face her family. They had always intimidated her. Her brilliant, successful father and her mother, the perfect hostess, Evan with his brains and his athletic ability, and now there was Tabitha too. A new sister she’d barely even met who was a freaking artistic genius. Then there was her. Not much on her resume to brag about. Oh, wait, she did have a sadistic drug runner wanting to kill her.

“I’ll need you at my place at six-thirty tomorrow morning.” Sam caught her gaze in the rearview mirror as he spoke, and Erin quickly masked the insecurity and uncertainty she was sure must be showing on her face. “We’ll be riding, so I can show you what you’ll need to do during the week.” He paused until she reluctantly met his gaze again. “Don’t be late, Erin,” he added quietly.

Her chin jerked up. “I’ll be there.” She wanted to beg him to let her stay, but his expression was closed, and his eyes focused on the road once more.

They turned up the drive to the big brick house on the hill, and Erin swallowed nervously. As soon as the truck stopped, she jumped out with her oversize purse and her duffel bag clattering behind her. With a nod to Evan, Sam turned the truck around and was off. She stared after him until Evan moved over to her.

“Here, let me take your bag into the guesthouse for you.” He reached for it, but she jerked away.

“I’ve got it,” she snapped, then bit her lip. “Just—just show me where to put it,” she added more quietly.

Evan led the way into the guesthouse. Erin looked around with curiosity. It had been redecorated from what she remembered, but it was still essentially the same, a great room and kitchenette downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. She set her duffel bag on the couch and took off her jacket.

“Do I bow before the king now or later?” she asked sarcastically.

Evan tilted his head. “There’s no need to bow, but it might be nice if you came in to say hello to Mother and Dad. Jenny’s here too with our son, Peter.”

Erin took a shaky breath and looked around. It had seemed so simple when she was in the Virgin Islands. Come home. There would be shelter even if there was no comfort. But now she had to face her family. Maybe it would have been just as easy to take her chances in the islands. “Is there any booze in here? I could use a drink.”

“It’s eleven in the morning, Erin,” Evan said softly. “How badly do you need a drink?”

Her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a freaking alcoholic, Evan, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Alcohol, pot, drugs? It doesn’t appear to matter much to you which one, does it?”

Erin’s head jerked back at the distaste bleeding through his tone. Just because he was her brother, it didn’t give him the right to look down on her. She glared at him. “You have no idea. You were always so perfect. Nothing I did could ever be as perfect as you.” She brushed past him. “Let’s get this over with. Maybe then I can figure out how long it will be before I get kicked out again.”

Evan grabbed her arm. “They’ve never kicked you out.”

She spun on him, effectively breaking his hold and putting herself out of his reach. Now Evan’s eyes narrowed as he studied her defensive stance. Erin worked to control her breathing. That had been a mistake, a huge overreaction. She needed to be careful if she was going to keep her business to herself.

When he relaxed, so did she. She eyed him from his cashmere sweater to his neat khakis. “No, you’re right, Evan. They never kicked me out. They froze me out. It got so freaking cold I had to go clear to the Caribbean to thaw out.”

“Then why the hell did you come back?” he snapped.

“That’s my business!”

She turned and left, digging her hands into the tight pockets of her hip hugger jeans and hunching her shoulders in an attempt to make her breasts appear smaller. All she wanted was to feel safe, to feel like someone cared. Sam’s frowning face came to mind, but she forced it away. He’d made it plain years ago and again last night that he didn’t want her.

* * * *

Stoner had ushered everyone to his study to wait for Erin and Evan to appear. Catherine and Jenny sat on the couch, keeping an eye on Peter, who played on a blanket on the floor, giggling as he rolled around. Stoner watched them with half a glance while keeping an eye on the doorway at the same time.

Evan appeared first. For a heartbeat, pain stabbed Stoner’s heart, so sure was he that Evan would tell them Erin had bolted again. Then she stepped from behind her older brother, a petite woman who stood only chest high to him. Her hair was short and spiky, like it had been last fall, but Stoner was relieved to see it no longer had electric blue highlights on top, and now her face was almost completely devoid of makeup. In an odd way, it made her large, blue-gray eyes stand out even more against her porcelain pale skin than the dark, heavy eye makeup she’d worn when she’d shown up at Tabby’s party.

For a fraction of a second, he was reminded of a doe in that instant she senses danger, but has yet to break and run. The minute Stoner stood, though, the impression disappeared. Erin’s chin jutted belligerently, and her eyes narrowed.

“How are you this morning?” Stoner asked carefully as he crossed the room to her, uncertain of her reaction. “Did Sam take care of your head?”

“Yes.”

She stiffened when he bent to kiss her, and Stoner straightened awkwardly. Inside he sighed. Why the hell had she come here when she so obviously didn’t want to? He had never understood her, and it seemed he still didn’t. Even a couple of years ago, he would have said that aloud, but circumstances had mellowed him.

“Come in,” he invited instead. “Say hello to your mother and Jenny. You remember Jenny, don’t you?”

Erin nodded and swallowed as her eyes met her mother’s.

“Mama.”

Catherine held her arms open to her daughter, and Erin moved as gracefully as a cat to her mother’s side, briefly embraced her, then looked at Jenny warily.

Jenny smiled at her and laughed. “You have no idea how relieved I am to see someone in this family who does not tower over me.”

Erin grinned, and even though it was tinged with anxiety, it was the most relaxed she had looked since she walked into the room. Stoner took a deep breath. Maybe everything would be all right.

“It can be overpowering.” Erin’s glance slid to the baby, and now she smiled genuinely for the first time. “He’s cute. How old is he?”

“Five months,” Jenny said, “and already has teeth.”

At his mother’s voice, Peter stopped what he was doing and looked at them both with a big smile, showing off two top teeth.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Erin shook her head, as she eyed everyone else awkwardly. “Could—could I just play with him?”

Stoner watched as his daughter and daughter-in-law sat next to Peter and teased him with toys to make him laugh and wave his arms and legs in delight. He had never seen such a soft expression on Erin’s face. The baby calmed her down in some way, so that she didn’t prowl like a nervous cat, something she had done for what felt like forever.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Catherine asked since everyone else had either coffee or tea. Erin’s eyes darted to the brandy decanter and away.

“No.” Her voice was tight. Suddenly, she was on her feet again. She moved restlessly around the room. “I—I’m sorry about last night, D—daddy. I swerved to avoid hitting a deer. I told Sam I’ll work off what I owe him for the fence. He mentioned he needed help on the farm, so I’m working there.”

“You’re working as a farm hand?” Catherine asked softly. She tried to keep her tone noncommittal, but the implication slipped through that a Richardson did not do that. Stoner held his breath. Erin stopped in the middle of the room, and Stoner could almost see the tension vibrate through her. God! She was as taut as a bowstring. She smiled jerkily.

“I’ll have to be up and about early in the mornings. If—if that’s not convenient, I—I’m sure I can find a place to stay.”

“For God’s sake, Erin,” Stoner finally exploded. “You’re family, not some damn guest.”

Her gaze was cool as it rested on him. “Am I?” The bitterness in those two words was there for everyone to hear. It slammed into Stoner with all the force of a slap. Did she really feel that way?

Catherine rose and approached her daughter, but all of them could see the way Erin stiffened at the contact. “Of course you’re family, honey. And you’re welcome to stay in the guesthouse for as long as you wish.”

Silence stretched. Stoner pressed his lips together as Erin’s expression subtly altered. It was as if she withdrew from them, though she hadn’t moved at all. The shaft of pain that speared through him made him take a step back. He had never been able to reach her, and he didn’t understand why.

Erin blinked a couple of times as though she was at a loss for words. Maybe putting her in the guesthouse had been a mistake. Her expression gave away nothing as she finally took a deep breath and looked around the room.

The instant she spotted Tabby’s new portrait of him, she moved toward it. This time Stoner saw the flash of emotion in her eyes—amazement followed quickly by jealousy. He wondered at that. Certainly, the painting portrayed him in a way few people had seen him. Even Stoner had difficulty relating the image of the pleasantly relaxed man intent on the table on which he was working, his hands setting minute inlay into its surface, with the cold man he’d often felt himself to be.

“This must be the painting Tabby did.” She pasted a smile on her face. “She’s very talented.”

Stoner stood behind her but didn’t touch her. He wanted to. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but the keep-off signals his daughter was throwing out were almost tangible.

“She and Joe will join us for dinner,” he murmured. “We’d like you to be there too, Erin.”

She continued to stare at the painting for the longest time, never turning around as she asked, “What time?”

“Six.”

She nodded, edging away from him, as if she didn’t know how to be around them or what they expected. Stoner stifled a sigh. Because she had been gone for so long, they were all but strangers to her. Before he could think of something to say to ease her mind, she spoke.

“If—if you don’t mind, I’ll go rest. I’m tired.”

“I’ll walk you over there.” He started to take her elbow, but she edged farther away, so Stoner dropped his hand.

“No. No, Daddy… That’s okay.” Erin fled.

Stoner looked at Jenny after Erin left. “Well?” he inquired softly, hands jammed in his pockets to prevent anyone from seeing how tense he was. “What do you think?”

Jenny shook her head. “She doesn’t appear to be on anything right now, Stoner. Of course, knowing for certain would require testing. She simply acted like…” Jenny paused, then rushed on, “Well, she acted like a stranger walking into an unfamiliar setting might.”

“But she’s our daughter,” Catherine protested. “Why should she act like a stranger?”

Evan put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Mother, other than that disastrous visit last fall, I haven’t seen Erin since she was eighteen. She is virtually a stranger. I’m not sure that we’re dealing as much with a substance abuse issue as we are that she’s running from something…or someone.”

“What makes you say that?” Stoner questioned.

“While she got her things out of Sam’s house this morning, he told me he dumped pot, ecstasy, and some Quaaludes out of her purse last night. She doesn’t appear to have any one drug of choice, which is more like an addict; she seems to do whatever will get her high. It’s an escape, not something she physically has to have.”

Stoner’s unease ramped up again. “Did Sam check her suitcase or just her purse?”

Evan grimaced. “He only mentioned her purse. You want me to call him to find out?”

Oh how Stoner wished he could say no, but it wasn’t possible. He nodded reluctantly. Evan stepped out of the room to use his cell phone. Stoner moved to the window and stared out over the winter-brown fields, grateful that Catherine knew him well enough to leave him to his thoughts, uneasy though they might be.

Evan returned in a few minutes. “Sam didn’t check her suitcase.”

The instant Stoner met Evan’s gaze, they hurried from the room toward the guesthouse. Stoner prayed this would not be a repeat of her teenage years.

Damn it,” Evan said. “She’s locked the door, Dad.”

Stoner dug into his pocket. “Hang on. I’ve got a spare key here. Jesus! She hasn’t even been here a day, and it’s already started.” He unlocked the door and opened it quietly. His eyes spotted the pills almost immediately. Evan examined them.

“Ecstasy.”

“What the hell is that?” Stoner demanded.

“It acts like both an amphetamine and a hallucinogen.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know these things,” Stoner grimaced.

Evan arched one thick brow, looking like a younger version of Stoner. “Prosecuting attorney, remember?”

Stoner raced up the stairs, heart pounding, opened first one bedroom door, then the second, smaller room. She was curled in one of the two twin beds in there, but when the hinge squeaked, she leaped from the bed and backed into the corner before her eyes cleared and she saw it was him.

“Daddy! What are you doing?” Her chest heaved, but a trace of panic lurked in her eyes.

Panic that she’d been caught? Stoner grabbed her and shook her. “What did you take, Erin? Damn it! How much?”

Her eyes were wide and shocked as she glanced from his face to Evan, who now stood behind Stoner.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I didn’t take anything.”

“You’re lying,” Stoner snapped. Concern made him sound harsh and cold, but he couldn’t help it. She was scaring the shit out of him. “We saw the pills scattered on the table downstairs.”

“But… I didn’t take them,” she protested again. “Please. Daddy, you have to believe me.”

Stoner shut his eyes, feeling as though his heart was being ripped apart again as he admitted, “I can’t believe you. You’ve never given me any reason to believe you.” He turned to look at Evan. “I want Jenny to look at her.”

“Dad…” Evan began uncertainly, his gaze shifting to the hurt evident on Erin’s face.

“I want Jenny to look at her,” Stoner insisted. He remembered a night when she was in high school, when he had given her the benefit of the doubt, and she had nearly died from an overdose. “I’ll stay here. Get Jenny and flush that crap lying on the table.”

Erin stood like a statue in the corner of the room, her eyes huge in her pale face. Stoner’s heart ached. When he reached toward her again, she flinched, throwing her hands out to ward him off. “Don’t touch me.”

Her nostrils flared and her eyes glittered before she turned her face away from him, pressing her palms against the wall behind her. Stoner raked his trembling fingers through his hair. He had forgotten how many nights he had lain awake, worried sick about her. Now, she no sooner came back than it started all over again.

Jenny came into the room, took one look at Stoner and Erin’s stiff postures, and ordered him out of the room. When he started to protest, she glared at him. “I am doing this only because you’re her father, but she’s an adult, Stoner. You will not stay in here while I examine her, not even while I talk to her.”

* * * *

From the corner of her eye, Erin saw the door shut behind Stoner and Evan.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” Jenny asked.

Erin sucked a breath into a throat so tight it hurt. She shook her head and whispered, “I shouldn’t have come back. I keep saying that. Maybe I’ll eventually learn my lesson and leave once and for all.” She cast her hand around the room. “The guesthouse is where they’ve put me. Not their home. I’m a guest, not one of them.”

Erin blinked a couple of times as she absorbed the hurt and let it pass on through. All she had ever wanted from them was their love, their understanding, but how could they understand? Some of the fault lay squarely at her door. She could acknowledge that now, as an adult. She’d kept the real issues hidden, and done a damn fine job of it.

Jenny sighed, drawing her out of her introspection. Her sister-in-law sat on the edge of one of the twin beds. “It took me a long time to understand your father, Erin. A long time to forgive him. He is a man of very intense, deeply felt emotions.”

Erin laughed bitterly. “As deep as a chest freezer.”

Jenny shook her head. “I can’t help you two with those issues, but I can deal with some of yours. Did you take any of the MDMA?”

“No. I thought about it, pretty seriously.” Something about Jenny gave Erin complete confidence that Jenny would not doubt her. “My boss, Rick, never had a problem with us being a little loose, but I don’t want to keep doing that.”

“When’s the last time you used anything?”

“I smoked part of a joint last night right after I landed in Sam’s pasture with my rental car.”

“Nothing since then? No alcohol, cold medicine, anything?”

“Nothing.” Erin met her gaze without flinching. Jenny didn’t need to know the mental battle Erin had fought to leave the pills untouched.

“May I examine you?”

Erin nodded and submitted to having her pulse, respiration, pupil response, and reflexes tested. When Jenny asked to see the contents of her purse, Erin dumped them out along with her duffel bag. Jenny flicked open the birth control pills and looked at Erin.

“This is fine for pregnancy prevention, but you should use condoms to protect against disease.”

Erin snorted. “It’s not an issue. I take them for severe cramps.”

“But you make your partners use condoms?” Jenny’s concern was evident.

Erin raised her brows and said again, more slowly, “It’s not an issue. It’s never been an issue. You’re a doctor. Do I need to be clearer than that?”

“But…?” Jenny shook her head. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

Erin laughed bitterly. “What? I’m sure my family led you to believe I’d spread my legs for anyone and everyone, right? Just because…” Erin paused, grinding her teeth in frustration. “You know, never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m almost twenty-seven. They won’t change what they think, and I can’t make them. Just…just tell my dad the truth, please. I’m not on anything. I’m exhausted. Last night was the first night in three days I’ve had any sleep… And I didn’t sleep well.”

“Why the MDMA downstairs then?” Jenny probed, her tawny eyes intent.

“I thought about it,” Erin whispered. “But then I remembered Sam going through my stuff. I didn’t want to disappoint him. What a joke, huh? I’ve always been a disappointment to all of them. I’m not an addict. I need a break sometimes from my own head.” She turned away. “Leave me alone, Jenny. Make Daddy leave me alone. I want to sleep right now.”

“All right.”

With a nod, Jenny stood and opened the door. When it had shut behind her, Erin slid down the wall and curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. Her lip trembled, but she refused to shed a tear. Why she had expected things to be different this time, she had no idea. It was another way of setting herself up for disappointment, and there were more than enough of those already.

She had come back because she feared for her life, and in some corner of her mind, she supposed she still associated home and safety with her parents. Or maybe she wished it were so. Erin rubbed her eyes. She was rubbing away the scratchiness from lack of sleep. Yeah.