Letters from Peaceful Lane (New Americana 3)

Struggling for self-control, she stood looking down at him. His sunken eyes were closed above the plastic oxygen mask. His skin was grayish and mottled with bruises. A white bandage wrapped his head. He looked worn-out, vulnerable, and wounded. The urge to bend down, gather him close, and rock him in her arms was so overwhelming that it brought a freshet of tears. How could she not have noticed the exhaustion, the strain in him? How could she have been so wrapped up in her glamorous new life as Mrs. Burke Caldwell that she’d allowed this to happen?

Her eyes traced the outline of his body beneath the thin cotton blanket—the taut belly and lean hips, the muscular legs, lying slightly apart with the feet making a little tent beneath the covers. Denial surged through her brain like a drug. Permanent damage? What nonsense! Tomorrow morning Burke would be fine. He’d wake up, bound out of bed, and life would go on as if this nightmare had never happened. There was nothing wrong with him that a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure!

It was the urine bag that finally undid her—the sight of it dangling like a flat yellow moon from under the sheet near the foot of the bed. Allison stared at the fluid that dripped out of the catheter tube, flowing from the body of a man so helpless he couldn’t even get up to relieve himself. Her knees went weak.

Sagging against the bed, she groped for his hand, found it and held on tight. His eyelids fluttered but failed to open.

“It’s all right, my love,” Allison murmured. “I’m here. We’re going to get through this together.”

His dry lips moved ever so slightly. “Kate . . .” he murmured. “Don’t leave me, Kate . . .”

Overwhelmed, she sank into a bedside chair and pressed her face against the sheet.

* * *

She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she heard his voice.

“Allison.”

Her eyes shot open. Gray light filtered through the half-closed blinds. Burke had pulled off the oxygen mask and was watching her with alert blue eyes. Emotion welled in her throat. He was awake. He knew her.

“How . . . are you doing?” she asked idiotically.

“I’ve seen better days.” He gave her a twisted smile. “How about you?”

She leaned over him, raised his hand, and kissed it. His fingers were cold against her lips. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know, Burke—about the company problems, the strain you were under. How could you have let me make such a fool of myself?”

His only reply was a brief tightening of his hand around hers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She gulped back a sob. “Why did I have to learn the truth from Garrett? I would have understood. I would have stood by you.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We need to talk, Allison.”

Still gripping his hand, she sank back onto the clammy metal chair. “What you need right now is rest. Anything you have to say to me can wait till you’re feeling stronger.”

“This can’t wait.” With effort, he twisted his neck to turn his face toward her. “Just keep still and hear me out.”

His voice had dropped to a whisper. Allison leaned closer, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach. She kept her grip on his hand, refusing to let go.

“Everything you said to me at the house was true.” His voice rasped in his throat. “When I asked you to marry me, I made you a lot of promises—promises I meant to keep. I wanted to lay the world at your feet, girl. I wanted to spend every minute of the time God gave us just making you happy. If I’d known what a rough ride this was going to be, I’d have walked away and kept right on walking.”

“Hush!” Allison laid a finger against his chapped lips. “Don’t you dare talk like that. I behaved like a fool. I said stupid things, ugly things I didn’t mean. But that’s all in the past. Right now, all I want to do is help you get—”

“I said hear me out,” he snapped. “Damn it, Allison, this is hard enough to say without you interrupting!”

She stared at him, shocked by his vehemence.

“I thought there was a chance to save the business. But now that this has happened, it’s all going down,” he said. “The American Heartland, the money, me, the whole damn-blasted house of cards! A year from now, if I’m still alive, I’ll be lucky to have a roof over my head. This isn’t what you signed on for, girl. It’s not what I promised you.”

“Burke, it doesn’t mat—”

“Listen to me! There’s nothing you can do here but sit around and wring your hands. As soon as it’s light outside, I want you to drive back home. When you get there, call a lawyer, the best one you can find. Tell him you want to file for divorce.”

* * *

Garrett stepped into Allison’s path, halting her as she fled blindly across the waiting room.

“Are you all right?” His hands clasped her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Lord, what’s wrong? Is Burke—?”