He was making it up. Cain could tell. “No, Owen. She told me that night. She told me that she’d never been kissed the way I kissed her, and you know that because you were there. Isn’t that right?”
No response was as good as a confession.
Cain dropped his head in his free hand. “You were inside.”
“I didn’t dare say anything at the time, Cain. I would’ve blown it for you.”
“How come we didn’t see you?”
“I was in the bathroom.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Cain had enough regrets about that incident without this. “You think I cared more about scoring than her privacy? Or the fact that you were far too young to be exposed to that kind of intimacy?”
“I didn’t know what to do,” he said. “I was glad you’d finally deigned to notice me, that you’d invited me to go with you. The last thing I wanted was to ruin your fun.”
“So why mention it now? You haven’t said a word for twelve years, Owen. Why did you have to let us know at all?”
When his stepbrother paused again, Cain suddenly thought of one very viable reason. “Wait a second… Dad thinks I killed Jason over Sheridan. He’s telling you this, and you’re remembering what you saw in that camper, and you’re beginning to believe it.”
“I don’t believe it,” he protested.
If that was true, he wouldn’t have brought it up. Without Jason, what’d happened between Cain and Sheridan would have no more bearing on their lives today than Cain’s experience with any other girl.
“Why’d you talk to Sheridan about it?” he pressed. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I wanted to know how she felt about you, that’s all. How involved you two were, if you had something going back then that no one knew about. Besides what I saw, I mean,” he added awkwardly.
“That was a one-time encounter,” Cain said. The most humiliating moment of my life. “I wasn’t the least bit jealous that she was with Jason.”
“You’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Early this morning, Maureen Johansen told Ned that you were at Rocky Point the night Jason was shot.”
Cain stood so abruptly, his dogs scattered. “A lot of us spent our weekends at Rocky Point. That’s part of what made Jason’s murder so damn shocking.”
“She thinks you saw Sheridan with Jason and it upset you. She said you were acting strange when you realized they were together. She said you even wanted to leave early.”
It was true. For all his supposed indifference toward her, it’d bothered Cain to know she was with his stepbrother. But a goody-two-shoes cheerleader wasn’t his type. Once he’d been with her, he knew she was as innocent as she appeared to be, and he wasn’t interested anymore. Maybe he was self-destructing, but there was no need to take her with him. There were too many other girls to mess around with, willing, available girls who didn’t have a reputation to protect.
Cain had hoped Sheridan would go on with her life as if the camper incident had never happened. He’d assumed that as long as she kept her mouth shut no one would know, because he certainly wasn’t telling. But only weeks later, she and his stepbrother were shot and the mistake he’d made with Sheridan went beyond taking her virginity. Jason wouldn’t have been there without her. Rocky Point was for rebels. It wasn’t Jason’s scene, or Sheridan’s either, which was how Cain knew she’d been making a statement directed at him.
“And Maureen got all that from what? I didn’t even speak to her that night.”
“It’s the ballistics tests on that rifle—and the attack on Sheridan. It has everyone stirred up. And Ned and Amy aren’t helping.”
“If Ned thinks I’m the one who hurt Sheridan, why’d he let me take her home?”
“He said it was her choice.”
So the suspicion lingered. Despite the mysterious man who’d pushed and shoved his way out of the hospital. What, did Ned think Cain had paid someone to run through the hospital wearing a wig? “This is crazy,” he muttered.
“Cain?” Sheridan’s voice broke his concentration. It was reedy, thin, but filled with emergency. “Cain?”
Something was wrong. “I gotta go.” Hitting the Off button without listening for Owen’s response, he charged into the house, tossing the phone on the entry table as he ran.
“I’m here,” he called and pushed the bedroom door open to find her lying on the floor. “What’s wrong? What are you doing out of bed?”
“I have to…the toilet. I’m…sick.”
Oh, boy. She was having a reaction to the meds.
Scooping her into his arms, he barely reached the bathroom before she started to vomit. “Go out,” she said and weakly waved him away as she heaved.
But he couldn’t leave her. She hardly had the strength to hold herself up. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said and supported her weight until she’d finished vomiting. By then, she lay pale and limp in his arms.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, smoothing her hair off her sweat-damp face. “You’re going to be okay.”
A tear slid down her cheek, but she let her head fall onto his chest.
“Let’s get you back in bed.”
When he lifted her, she made a feeble attempt to resist. “No…not like this. I need…a bath.”
But she wasn’t strong enough to take one, and she wouldn’t appreciate having him perform such a service.
After a moment of indecision, he set her on the bed while he collected the shampoo and soap, toothbrush and toothpaste. Then he carried her out of the house, across the clearing and down behind the clinic to the swimming hole created by a small, clear stream. It wasn’t exactly a bath, but he knew the water would clean her and cool her at the same time.
Wading in, clothes and all, he let the water lap around them both.
9
The water soaked Sheridan’s hospital gown, making it cling to her, but she didn’t care. She needed the change of scenery, the chance to escape her bed.
With Cain’s arms holding her at the knees and shoulders, she leaned back and let the current comb through her hair, loosening the dirt, cooling her hot scalp. Below her was nothing but water, above her an endless black sky shimmering with stars that looked like crushed diamonds. Cain was the only solid object in her world. Without him, she’d sink or drift away.