Text Me Part 22

Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. "You would have died too."

"Maybe I should have."

Carter bolted up, his hands clenching Abby's tight enough to cause a painful gasp. "No. It was an accident, Jennifer. It wasn't your fault. You tried your best."

Jennifer's eyes met Carter's. "When I planted the bluebonnets, I said, Carley, if they die, I'm going with you. If they don't live, then maybe I shouldn't either."

Carter cursed. "That's crazy."

Jennifer's head wagged back and forth. "Maybe so, but look." She held out both hands and did a three-sixty turn to admire the sea of blue flowers. "The first year, there was only about a ten foot patch of them. Every year, there are more and more. I figure that's her way of telling me I have to keep going. I have to do all the things we used to talk about because-"

Abby's voice was soft as she finished the sentence. "Because she can't?"

Jennifer closed her eyes and nodded.

Carter stood and pulled Jennifer into a hug that probably sucked the breath out of both of them. "It was an accident, Jennifer. It was just a bad accident, but these flowers are an amazing tribute. Thanks. You can't blame yourself. You know it wasn't your fault."

Abby now understood why the local pharmacist had such a thing for Carter. It had nothing to do with a crush, but a driving need for forgiveness. Only he never thought of forgiving her, did he? No, of course not. He never blamed her because he was too busy blaming himself. "You're right, Carter."

Her words broke their comforting embrace and tore them apart. "Huh?"

"You're right. It was an accident. No one's fault. Not hers and not yours either."

"I never thought it-"

"Sure you did. You thought if she trusted you enough to tell you, you could have prevented it. That was just another way of trying to accept the guilt-trying to find an explanation for something that's unexplainable. It happened. That's all."

He walked back to her and slipped his arms around her, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I wish it were that easy."

"I blamed myself too." Dr. Bernard's knees gave as he approached from above. In the distance, Becky waved from the hill above. "I should have taken the time to put Deanna in swimming lessons. I should have signed her up for soccer and softball-all that stuff. All I did was work every waking hour ... all the time. If I'd been a decent dad, I'd have done those things and Deanna would have been able to save herself. They both would be alive."

In her gut, Abby knew his burden had been the hardest to bear. Mainly because there was truth to his words. Guilt was the worst of internal adversaries. It ate a person up from the inside out. While Abby barely knew the man, he had probably lived with a ma.s.sive amount of guilt. It must have been unbearable at times.

While her eyes rained down cheeks that most likely were blotched as well as wet, she had to stop the ma.s.sive amount of finger pointing, all of which were pointed inward by each of them.

"Stop. All of you." Her voice cracked on the last word. She sucked in air, rattling on wet lungs. "It was my fault. If I'd known them then, I would have saved all of them. I mean, I was a d.a.m.ned lifeguard for four years. I was trained in CPR-I knew what to do." She whirled on Carter, hoping her tactic worked and didn't p.i.s.s him off. "Why the h.e.l.l didn't you meet me when you were in high school? I mean, I only lived what-three hours from here. What was your problem?"

Three mouths dropped open and six eyes stared as if she'd lost her mind. Uh-oh, maybe that had been a bad plan. Seconds ticked past.

Carter's mouth hitched at the corner and he blinked. Then he smiled.

Jennifer let out a giggle then clamped her hand over her mouth and darted a look to her side.

Dr. Bernard was the only one who didn't appear to see the humor, but he stayed silent.

"You were a lifeguard?" Carter asked. "Seriously?"

"Yep. d.a.m.n straight."

He huffed. "I wish I'd seen that. Well then-you're right. I guess we'll blame you. This pity party is officially over. We have a scapegoat."

Abby let the weight of fear roll off her shoulders. It had been a gamble to try such a bold move, but what else was she going to do? Sit around and listen while they all tried to take the blame for something that couldn't be changed, even if they tried? What point was there in that? Thankfully, Carter hadn't gone off the deep end and lost his temper. He hadn't yelled at her for making light of a very not-light situation.

No, instead he stepped right into her and wrapped those big warm hands around her waist. He dropped his head to her shoulder and kissed lightly against the line of her collarbone. Right there in front of all of them. "Thanks, Abs. What else can we blame you for now?"

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

When Carter followed Abby into the kitchen a short time later, he registered the significance of what had transpired. Admittedly, she'd made light of his past but still, the weight on all of them was the heaviest blanket he'd been under. Making sense of something that had no sense had never worked.

"You feel like a gla.s.s of iced tea?" His chest squeezed when her eyes softened. How had she known what to say to get them over that moment of self-loathing? If he were honest, it was one of many that haunted him over the years. He imagined it was worse for Jennifer and the doc.

She nodded, obviously uncomfortable with what she'd discovered. He dug a pitcher from his mother's cabinets and filled it with ice cubes. The pot for brewing tea bags was in its familiar spot and he filled it then started the brew. "People used to tell me I was lucky I hadn't been there that day. It p.i.s.sed me off."

There had been nothing lucky about arriving by bus at your home to a slew of police cars and an ambulance. His father had greeted him at the gate in silence. The heaviness in his expression had never been forgotten. At the funeral, Carter overheard his dad tell a friend, "No one ever expects to bury their children when they come into the world. It should have been the other way around. This isn't natural."

It wasn't natural. Neither were all the years that followed where they each chose a different way to deal.

"They meant well." She ran a hand up his arm and squeezed the knot at the base of his neck.

He hadn't given a s.h.i.+t what they meant at the time. There was nothing lucky about losing a sister in such a stupid way. He shrugged.

Carter turned toward the window and stared at the barn that acted as a barrier between the house and all the pain in that field. He loathed what lay beyond. The very existence of the building s.h.i.+elded them from seeing it every day.

He closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how long they stood there-her hand on his back with the dim light from outside peeking through.

The sizzle of water bubbling over the pot broke the silence and he whisked it from the stove. Pulling the steeping bags out, he dumped the tea over the ice and added water. He was thankful for a task that kept his hands and mind moving.

"Good intentions don't change much, do they, Abby?"

Abby's jaw tensed as he handed her the tea. She took a sip.

As much as he appreciated the way she'd broken the mood earlier, the full weight of Abby's betrayal still felt like a fist around his heart. She hadn't trusted him with the truth either. Why should he have expected her to? "Don't you have to get home?"

She pulled another long sip from the gla.s.s then tipped it over the sink and dumped the contents. The plastic gla.s.s clinked against the counter where she left it before striding to the door.

He flinched when the door banged behind her. Her car starting and crunching on the gravel was the final straw. The floodgate opened on years of disappointment.

He cried.

Not the loud, moaning sobs his mom had done-or the handkerchief hidden sniffles of his dad. He stood at the sink listening to the whir of her car disappear into the wind, and the tears slid down his cheeks. Just a couple. Nothing earth shattering. That wasn't happening. h.e.l.l if it hadn't hurt worse to give up on her than it had to let go of Carley.

Abby hunched over the steering wheel like an eighty-year-old woman headed to church. An hour later, her neck started to ache and she readjusted in the seat. She'd darted about five glances at the rearview mirror, hoping Carter might follow. He hadn't. Why should he?

Even if he had, there wasn't any mechanism to explain her deceit. Funny, it seemed plausible at the time. Before she knew him. Before she cared-and she did. The knot in her chest tightened. Why? She had no need for a relations.h.i.+p at the moment. Her business was drowning her. There was no time to devote to anyone else. He understood that better than anyone.

Then it hit her. She thunked a palm to her forehead. That was the reason. It mattered that he believed in her, simply because he believed in her. Her entire family doubted her ability to sustain a business and chided her to be sensible. He did the opposite. He had applauded her entrepreneurial spirit-admired and encouraged her.

Her phone blinked on the seat and she glanced at the screen. A chat message. Great.

Traveling To Survive: You there? I could really use someone to talk to right now.

A cold rock of guilt settled deep in her stomach. Not doing this anymore. He had to know the truth. All of it.

Still, she couldn't abandon him. Not after what just happened. Abby whipped the car into a parking lot, put it in park, and lifted the phone.

She Hearts Dogs: I'm here, friend. What do you need?

Traveling To Survive: I just spent half a day with the most horrible person. One of those people that you can't decide whether you want to strangle or ...

What did the dots mean? She cringed and typed.

She Hearts Dogs: Sorry you had to deal with that.

Traveling To Survive: Where were you? Weren't we supposed to meet the other night? I waited for a while. Then this horrible woman I knew showed up with some friends and I, well, I wasn't going to deal with that too.

Abby clicked in a response with tears sliding down her cheeks.

There's a really funny reason why I couldn't be there and I'll have to tell you. When we meet next time.

She stared at the words, then backed them out and started over.

She Hearts Dogs: I'm sorry about that. I did show up and I looked around but didn't see anyone in an Astros hat. I talked for a while with someone and then left.

Traveling To Survive: You were there? Really? Oh c.r.a.p! I took the hat off but only for a few minutes.

She stared at the blinking cursor, knowing he had a million things flying through his head at the moment. Right about now he was cursing her for showing up and ruining his good time. Again. What would he say if he knew that truth also?

She Hearts Dogs: Whew, so should we try again?

Maybe all the support he'd given was just to get in her pants, but d.a.m.n if she hadn't needed that desperately. A huge slice of support pie served up by a gorgeous man who made her toes curl. That was exactly what she wanted, though she'd never realized it.

What had he wanted? Underneath everything else, what had he hoped for from her? She had thought maybe just a fling. Nope. Something that she'd been unable to give.

Honesty.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Roger's presence at Carter's house two weeks later should have seemed peculiar. They hardly ever visited each other, though they met for beer or lunch during the week. Sometimes they played golf. Yet, before Carter opened the door, he knew the man by the banging. Roger always rapped four times, loud and hard, with the last one delayed a tick.

"What?" Carter scruffed a hand over his face in an effort to brush the sleep away. He hadn't bothered to dress or shower, nor had he planned to. It was Sat.u.r.day morning. He peered at the widescreen, which had been blaring all night while he lounged on the couch.

Roger stepped past and drew in a breath. "s.h.i.+t. I thought I was a pig. Want to tell me what's going on with you?" He picked up a half-eaten piece of pizza from the open box on the floor and sniffed it, then lifted a brow before tossing it back.

"Nothing. I'm just taking advantage of my time off. Haven't had any in a long time." Carter scratched his naked chest over the top of gray sweats he'd cut into shorts long ago, when he wore a hole in the knee. "You need something? Is there a problem at work?"

Roger tripped over a pillow cast to the floor the night before and teetered toward the philodendron. Carter lunged at his arm and steadied the man. The plant was none the worse, still as green as ever. Still trailing along the floor and curling into his life.

"It looks good. One of Abby's?"

"Yeah, you want it?"

"I suck at plants, but that's why I came. Have you seen their new blog for the store?" Roger leaned to whisk the pillow and toss it back home on the couch. "Got any beer?"

"At this time of morning?"

Roger had a rule about drinking before noon. Or maybe it was one o'clock?

Roger hitched a brow and gave the you-have-to-be-s.h.i.+tting-me look before tapping his watch twice. "It's not morning where I come from." He strode to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, then paused to pull a trash bag from a cabinet before returning. After popping the top, he tossed the bottle cap into the bag. He slugged a drink then set down the beer. "Go get your laptop and take a look. They've been advertising like crazy on their blog. All sorts of crazy s.h.i.+t. You need to see it."

"No thanks. I'm a little capped out right now on rambling technology conversations. Blogging. Texting. Tweeting. All that s.h.i.+t. People can say and do whatever they feel like and hide behind a mask of anonymity, or worse, false ident.i.ties. What are you doing?"

Roger scooped the pizza box, a half dozen plastic cups and paper plates, and some wadded paper towels into the trash bag. "I'm cleaning up, man. Someone better before the landlord comes in to fumigate the place. It's gross. You're gross."

"That matters to you why?"

"If you don't get your s.h.i.+t together, and fast, we're going to lose this job. You've been sulking around for days, and we have a deadline coming. If you don't get your head straight, we're toast."

"Don't you mean I'm toast?"

The plastic bag rumpled as he wadded it and thrust it into the bin near his sink. "Yeah, and since I'm tied to you like a sail because I jumped on your bandwagon when you sold it, I'm toast too. What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you? You've never lasted more than a few months with any other girl. Why'd you expect it to be different this time?"

Well, s.h.i.+t. If he put it like that, Roger was right. Too right. Carter never lasted because he never wanted to. Never trusted anyone. Which had been pointed out so many times, he'd lost count. Yet, he'd tried with Amanda, and then Abby.

"She lied to me."

"Waaa-waaa. Get over it. You lied too."

Carter jolted his eyes at the silhouette against his window and squinted when the drapes ripped open to reveal the blinding sun. "I did not."

"Sure you did. The day you met her."