The only problem left for him to solve is how to get out of going to Amber’s memorial tonight. Today is the anniversary of her death and though Arden would normally be the first one to arrive, it’s somehow been cheapened by the sheriff’s insistence that the visitation to her grave be public. Arden doesn’t even want to go now. And he knows Amber would understand.

His thoughts are interrupted by his cell phone ringing in his gym bag on the bench. He doesn’t recognize the number displayed on the screen. “Hello?”

“Arden, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.”

Carly. Her voice invades his senses, sending a shiver of sweet familiarity through him. But … she sounds rattled. Fear snakes through his veins. Is she hurt? Arden is aware of what his father used to threaten Carly to stay away from him; Cletus told him everything. For her to be breaking that oath with the sheriff and calling Arden right now, she’s either got some incredible woman balls, or something is very wrong. And Arden is guessing she wouldn’t be risking her family like this, woman balls or not. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“It’s Uncle Cletus. I had to call an ambulance for him. He wasn’t breathing. They’re taking him to Sacred Heart on Highway Ninety-Eight. I’m following the ambulance now.”

He wasn’t breathing. Oh God. “I’ll be right there.”

*   *   *

Arden barges through the automatic double doors to the emergency room almost before they give him room enough to do so. The waiting room is packed, but he finds Carly standing in the corner, out of everyone’s way.

He grabs her hands as soon as she’s within reach. They are cold and slightly shaking, but he revels in the feel of her touch. “Any word?” he asks. Sheer willpower keeps him from pulling her to him.

She shakes her head. “He’s been back there awhile. I think they pushed him ahead of all these people.”

Arden glances around the waiting room. A kid in a sling, a lady with a swollen eye, a man with what looks like the flu, a screaming baby. All bad off, but breathing. “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Arden says, his voice speaking volumes to the opposite, he can tell. He can also tell that Carly’s not buying it. “He’s a tough old coot.” Tough and stubborn. But sometimes tenacity loses its battle with death. He’s seen it happen before.

“I don’t know what could have happened,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. Her hair is pulled back into a thick braid, and wisps of it frame her face. Her eyes brim with tears. “He was fine last night.”

Carly’s tears slide down her cheeks now, small rivulets of worry that disintegrate his willpower down to mere memories of good intentions. Arden stops fighting it, the need for her. He grabs her wrist and pulls her to him. She’s startled at first, and attempts to resist, drawing herself back. It’s something he’ll never forget, this subtle but pointed rejection in the emergency room of Sacred Heart Hospital. He meets her eyes then, pleading. “I need you,” he whispers. It’s not what he meant to say. He meant to say that he’s here for her, that she doesn’t have to worry alone. “I’ve needed you for so long now.”

Indecision washes over her. That, and anguish. But he can tell the moment she relinquishes her hold on the resolve that made her pull away. This is the beauty of Carly—the ability to let go when it counts. She comes to him then, rests her head against his chest. The feel of her in his arms again almost brings him to his knees. He hates his father even more for keeping this from him. “How are you holding up? Are you … are you okay?”

She lifts her face to his. Her lips are so inviting. “I’m worried about him.”

He leans down, sighing into her hair. “I am too.”

“I … I was hoping Cletus told you why I have to stay away from you. I told him, so that maybe he would pass it on. My family…” She chokes on the word.

He pulls away then, unable to stop his finger from lightly caressing the back of her cheeks. Catching a tear in the crook of it, he lifts it to his own lips and kisses the saltiness there. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I do, though. For my sanity. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. And I want you to know that I understand, you know, that you have to move on.”

“‘Move on’?” What?

“I saw you talking to the new girl. Jessica, I think.”

“You saw me talking to someone and you assumed I’ve moved on? Are you insane? So should I be worried that I saw you talking to Chad Brisbane?” Because now he’s stressed. Cletus is in the hospital and Carly is moving on? Surely life isn’t that sucky. He curses under his breath. “Did Cletus tell you why I have to keep my eyes off you in the halls?”

She sighs. “Yes. And you’re doing a great job of that, by the way.”

“I’m going through the motions, Carly. But it means nothing to me. Jessica, seriously? Who the hell is that? Tell me I still have you, Carly. Tell me you haven’t given up on us. Because I haven’t. I’m yours. All of me. All the time. Every second of every day.” He wants to shake an acknowledgment out of her. He wants to hear her say that she’s still his, that she’s as bad off as he is. He wants to kiss the perpetual logic from her face.

“But you’ve been acting as if I don’t exist. I watch you. You look at other girls.”




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