He didn’t feel responsible, he felt sad—sad that she’d loved him so much with absolutely no encouragement, sad that he couldn’t return her feelings, even though he’d sometimes thought he should try. Sad that someone could end her life as if it was nothing, and afraid the same thing would happen to Sheridan if he didn’t do something to stop it.
He considered calling her, but her cell phone was still out of operation. And he didn’t have Skye’s number.
Reclaiming his keys from the top of the refrigerator, he decided to drive to town. He doubted Sheridan’s friend would be very happy to see him. Skye seemed particularly distrustful of him. But he didn’t care. He’d never be able to relax if he didn’t achieve some type of assurance that Sheridan was safe.
He’d just reached the front door when the phone rang again. Expecting more drunken accusations from Tiger, he wasn’t in any hurry to answer. But after two more rings, he walked over to check caller ID.
It wasn’t Tiger. The screen read K. Stevens.
Why would his former English teacher be calling him? He wasn’t any more eager to speak with her than he was with Tiger or Ned. Even less, in fact. But she hadn’t called him since she’d been back. He figured this must be important—in a bad way.
Sitting on the arm of the closest chair, he answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Cain?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Karen.”
“I know.”
“I—I’m sorry to bother you. Especially so late.”
He didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t harbor any hard feelings toward her, but as far as he was concerned, they couldn’t even be friends. There was too much history between them.
“No problem,” he said, but he was waiting for whatever she’d called to impart.
“Your stepfather asked me to marry him today.”
Last he’d heard, they’d had a blow-up in the Roadhouse. Karen had told John not to contact her again, and Cain had been hoping that was the end of their relationship.
But of course it wasn’t. This was the bad news he’d been expecting for a long time.
Remaining silent, Cain tried to imagine what their marriage would mean to her, to him, to his stepfather and stepbrothers. At the very least, it would complicate relationships that were already complicated enough. What if Marshall dragged him to Thanksgiving dinner come November? He pictured himself sitting across from Karen, seeing the guilt in her eyes, a constant reminder of the terrible secret they were keeping from John. And that was the better of two unattractive possibilities. It was more likely that Karen would eventually break down and tell John. That was what most wives would do, wasn’t it? And then John would finally have irrefutable proof that Cain was the bastard he’d always accused him of being. He’d use it to poison Owen against him. And he’d go to Marshall.
Cain couldn’t help wincing at the thought. “Did you answer him?” he asked, dreading her response.
“Yes.” There was a pause. “I agreed.”
Cain closed his eyes. Just what he needed right now. Why the hell didn’t he simply walk away from the Wyatts? Why did he let them matter?
Because he couldn’t walk away. Not as long as Marshall was alive. And he owed Owen some sort of loyalty, too. He and Owen had never had any significant trouble between them.
“When’s the wedding?” he asked, sick at heart.
“December.”
He kneaded his temples. “Are you in love with him?” He silently pleaded with her to hedge or say anything that might indicate she wasn’t genuinely committed. Maybe she was lonely and needed the companionship. Maybe she thought he was the best she’d be able to get. Anything short of what it would take to make a marriage like this work… Then he could oppose it, feel vindicated in disparaging the idea. But her sincerity disarmed him.
“Yes. I have been for a while, although it was a gradual thing for me, much more gradual than it was for him.”
Damn it! “So why are you calling me?”
He could tell that his brusque response made it difficult for her to go on.
“For several reasons,” she said at length. “First—” her voice dropped to an agonized whisper “—I owe you an apology.”
“Don’t.” He could sense her shame—because he shared it. He didn’t want to hear that she was sorry; he just wanted to forget. He’d been trying to distance himself from his past for a long time. Why allow it to catch up with him now?
“Please, let me talk about this. It’s been bottled up inside me for twelve years.”
Did he have to?
When he said nothing, she haltingly continued. “What happened was my fault, Cain, not yours. I—I was your teacher, for God’s sake. I should’ve been protecting you, guiding you, not lusting after you.”
He opened his mouth to interrupt but forced himself not to speak. Let her finish, let her get it off her chest. Maybe it would help one of them.
“It’s just that…well, you’ve got to be aware that you’re a very charismatic person. And you seemed so old for your age, so streetwise. Despite the age difference between us…and all the things that should’ve stopped me, I had this…this silly crush on you.” She laughed in a self-deprecating way. “I guess I can understand how Amy felt. You were all I could think about and I—”
Unable to listen to anymore, he finally interrupted. “Karen.”
She didn’t answer immediately. She’d broken down in tears. The sound of her weeping was even worse than the apology.
“I knew what I was doing,” he said. Maybe he was the one who owed her an apology. He’d never felt any attraction to her. He’d done what he had so he could take what his stepfather wanted instead of his mother. He’d used Karen to strike out at John. He couldn’t place all the blame on her doorstep.
“Then we both made a mistake,” she muttered.
“Apparently.”
She sniffed. “People make mistakes sometimes, don’t they?”
Was he ever familiar with that concept! He’d made more than his share. And considering the fact that everyone in town seemed ready to suspect him of murder, he was still paying for the past. “So…are you going to tell John?” That had to be where this conversation was going. He could tell that their actions weighed heavily on Karen’s conscience and guessed she wanted to unburden herself. So her answer surprised him.