Sam’s legs trembled under her weight like a seedling in a storm as she entered the house. She ran a hand across her head, and it came away with cobwebs. The odor of dust and dampness clung to her clothes.
Landon shut the door. “Why don’t you grab a shower? I’ll fix something to eat; you must be starving.”
She walked to the phone instead. “I have to call Melanie. Caden will be worried.”
“I’ll call. Where’s the number?”
Did he seem eager to talk to Melanie? Sam wondered if they’d seen each other since the double date. But she was too tired to argue with him. She was weary, so weary of doing it all alone. “By the phone, on a scrap of blue paper.”
Minutes later she stood under a stream of tepid water, letting the dirt and memories wash away simultaneously. She had avoided small spaces all her life, avoided the possibility of being trapped in the dark. The nightmare was a living thing, not forgotten, only pushed down deep. Today it had surged to the surface, and she wondered if she’d be able to bury it again.
She stayed under the flow of water until she stopped shaking. When she got out, she wrapped up in her robe, the only clean clothing she had.
“You look better,” Landon said when she entered the living room. A sandwich and bowl of soup sat on the freshly painted coffee table beside a glass of water. The kitchen, still covered in drop cloths, was off-limits.
The realization that she’d lost a whole afternoon’s work sank in, and she sighed. She didn’t want to think about the house and the work still to be done. She just wanted to rest and eat and forget.
Sam sat across from Landon in the recliner and picked up the water, drinking half the glass in one gulp. Next, she started on the soup, lifting the spoon to her lips. “Thanks for this.”
He watched her eat, silence filling the room. She knew she should feel awkward after making herself so vulnerable, but she didn’t. Outside, the sound of the rain pounding the roof was interrupted only by the rumble of thunder.
“Caden’s on her way home,” he said. “Melanie was concerned when she couldn’t reach you. Apparently she came over, but of course, no one answered. I apologized and explained what happened.”
“Thanks,” she said again. The soup soothed her raw throat. She’d hollered for Miss Biddle off and on all afternoon whenever the noise of the storm died down. Time passed slowly without any way of keeping track, and she was surprised it was still daylight when Landon came. She remembered the feel of his arms around her and relaxed a little. She’d never been so glad to see anyone.
Sam realized she hadn’t thanked Landon for rescuing her. The bowl of soup finished, she set it down but left the sandwich on the plate. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come.”
The corners of his lips turned up a fraction of an inch. “I’m just sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
“I was in a hurry. I went out to get the paint pan and roller, and I kicked the rock out of place. The wind blew the door shut.” Sam could feel the panic of the moment, and her heart stuttered.
“You never told me what Emmett did.” His eyes fastened on hers.
Lamplight from the end table illuminated one side of his face. His jaw tightened, and a shadow tumbled across his cheek.
She wet her lips. “There was nothing you could have done.”
“I could’ve told my parents. He wasn’t fit to raise you.”
She shrugged. Truth was, she had been ashamed. Emmett told her she deserved the things he did, and after a while, she believed him.
“What else did he do?” Landon’s lips tightened, but his eyes . . . his eyes were like the gentlest of touches.
She knew what he was thinking. “Not that.” The thought of Emmett’s hands on her were enough to turn her stomach. Thank God he never touched her that way.
“He was a cruel man.”
Sam picked up her sandwich and held it, her mouth dry. “Never did see what Mom saw in him.”
“I wish he were still alive.”
Sam looked at him. Light glimmered on the surface of his eyes. Was he crying for her?
“If he were, I’d kill him.” His fist squeezed the armrest.
Something seeped into her. A kind of comfort she didn’t remember feeling before. It seeped into the deep place where she hurt, but it would take a million gallons to fill the void. Even then, she had a leak. There wasn’t enough comfort in the world to fill her up.
Landon leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I would have protected you.”
“You were only a child, same as me.” She clutched the forgotten sandwich. Landon would have done everything he could if he’d known. He was like a brother then, the big brother she never had. Even now, he’d move heaven and earth to protect her. She knew it as sure as she knew the tide would come in later.
The front door flew open, startling her. Caden entered, ducking in out of the rain. She turned and lifted her hand, then shut the door. The sound of the car’s engine had been lost in the storm.
“Hi,” Sam said. “Did you have fun?”
She whirled around. Her daughter’s eyes were red-rimmed.
“What’s wrong?” She glanced at Landon, thinking Melanie might have mentioned something on the phone, but he shook his head.
“Amber’s neighbor came over, and they left me out.” She blinked rapidly. “I wanted to come home a long time ago.”
Sam set the sandwich down. “I’m sorry, honey—”
“Miss Walker tried to bring me home, but you weren’t here.” She flung the accusation like a stone. “I had to go back there for the whole afternoon.”
Caden seemed to notice Landon for the first time, but before she said anything, she looked back at Sam. Her gaze flittered over Sam’s robe.
Sam clutched the collar.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Landon said.
Caden’s lips clamped together, and Sam knew her daughter was remembering their conversation from the night before. Fear bubbled up inside Sam like the contents of a hot cauldron. How stupid she’d been to tell her daughter about Bailey. She should have known Caden wasn’t mature enough to keep this kind of secret.
“It’s never her fault.” Caden rushed to her room and slammed the door.
Sam slumped in relief.