He put a hand on her arm. “I would bet they broke into your place, too. They don’t want to admit it because there was a personal attack involved this time, and they know that’s a more serious charge.”
He wanted to believe it was true. And maybe it was. It was hard to imagine that there was more than one burglary ring operating in Honoria. And as far as he knew, there was no reason anyone would have targeted Emily specifically. She’d had nothing of real value taken, nothing that had been worth the risk of being caught in her home or charged with attacking her.
“Kevin O’Brien.” Emily shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. I know he’s been in a lot of trouble, but I had no idea he would resort to something like this. It isn’t even as if he needed money. His father is a very successful businessman. He owns O’Brien Lumber, you know.”
“It wasn’t for the money. It was for the meanness,” Wade said grimly. “Kevin O’Brien is a prime example of a kid who’s had too much given to him and too few limits set. He set up a burglary ring because he thought it was fun.”
“Fun,” Emily repeated, and he could see the memories of pain and fear reflected in her eyes. “He thought it was fun to terrorize his hometown? His neighbors?”
“He turned eighteen last month. He’s being charged as an adult. We’ll see how much ‘fun’ he finds in the justice system.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll ever find my mother’s bracelet.”
The wistfulness in her voice made him want to promise her anything. But he was more realistic than that. “We’ll try. But I’m afraid I can’t guarantee anything.”
“No, of course not. But thank you for trying.”
Wade motioned toward the door she still held in a white-knuckled grip. “Are you going to invite me in?” he asked, abandoning both patience and etiquette.
He watched her throat move as she swallowed. Why was she suddenly so nervous of him? And should he take that to be a good sign or a bad one? “Yes, of course,” she said after a moment, stepping aside. “Come in. I have some fresh coffee in the pot. Would you like a cup?”
He closed the door behind him, started to accept her offer, then fell silent when he noticed the condition of her living room.
The floor was covered with large cardboard boxes. They were all open, and he could see that many of them were at least partially filled with things that had once decorated her bookshelves and tables. “What have you been doing?”
She smoothed her hands down the sides of her long skirt. “I thought I’d better get started on my packing and sorting.”
His first impulse was to dump the contents of every damn box in the middle of the floor and then personally return every item to the place it belonged. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to speak casually. “What’s the big hurry? The lease on my house isn’t up until the end of the year, another six weeks.”
“Six weeks passes quickly,” she answered with a slight shrug, not quite meeting his eyes. “Especially when I have a whole lifetime worth of stuff to go through. I’m going to have a big yard sale here at the beginning of December, I think. Whatever I decide to keep will be put in storage.”
Wade’s hands fisted in his pockets. “You’re going to sell your things?”
She moistened her lips before she replied. “Well, obviously I won’t need all these things when I have no place to store them. I’ll probably settle into an apartment somewhere eventually, and I won’t have room for a houseful of furniture and knickknacks.”
“So you’re still planning to run away.” He spoke in a flat voice that showed little of the emotion he was trying to hold inside. “You’re just going to take off and ‘find yourself’ somewhere. No commitments to anyone. No ties.”
Her chin lifted in response to the implied criticism. “Yes, that’s right,” she said with a touch of defiance. “For once in my life, I’m going to be responsible for no one but myself. And if that sounds selfish...well, so be it. That’s something else I’ve never had the freedom to be.”
“Bull.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You have had every freedom to be selfish. Everything you’ve done since you were old enough to be out on your own has been by your own choice. You didn’t have to stay and take care of your father. Your mother and brother didn’t. You chose to accept that responsibility. You weren’t forced at gunpoint to join every community-service organization in town, and to be active in them. That was something you did because you wanted to, because you liked the feeling you got from making a difference in your community. You haven’t been a prisoner in this house, Emily, nor in this town.”
“I never said I was a prisoner,” she answered defensively.
“You’ve chosen to be involved because you’re happier being involved. You enjoy doing things for people you care about. And your community means a lot to you. You’re not going to be happy drifting around the country, alone and unattached.”
“And just what makes you such an expert on what I’m like?” she demanded. “On what makes me happy?”
“I know you,” he answered simply—and then risked everything. “I love you.”
He heard her breath catch, saw her eyes widen. And he wondered why his words would cause her to react in sheer panic.
She shook her head and literally took a step back from him. “No, you don’t.”
He followed her, taking two steps forward. “Don’t tell me what I feel.”