Down the Hidden Path (15 page)

Charlee blinked, thick lashes hooding her blue eyes. “I don’t hate you, Gray.”

Inside, Gray’s stomach was sour. “You’d have every right. It’s my fault your dad never met his grandson.”

Charlee reeled back and drew a deep lungful of air. Both her hands came up in a stop gesture, blocking Gray, blocking the pain she’d just inflicted. Confusion stole her features for a few long seconds until she shook her head as if trying to settle the comment, make it something
not quite
as bad as it was. “Are you nuts? You’re asking me to forgive you and move forward, and in the next breath you’re reminding me what you’ve cost my family?”

Gray raised her hands in the same manner, but on her it meant surrender. “There’s no sense trying to sugarcoat it.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t do that.” Charlee shook her head again as if she had no possible hope of understanding Gray. Or her motivation.

“Look, Charlee, I didn’t say anything you haven’t thought about, probably a hundred times since you all found out about David. I just want you to know, you have every right to feel that way. And I’m asking you, no, I’m
begging
you to lay down your right for his sake.”

Charlee turned to face her again, but there seemed no more fire in her eyes, just sadness. The sink was filling with soapy water even though there was a commercial-grade dishwasher in the corner. Charlee shut the water off. “I’ll try. For David’s sake. And Jeremiah’s.”

“Thank you.” It was more than she could have hoped. And far more than she deserved.

Gray sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. Something woke her. She smelled the residue of a long-gone fire in the fireplace downstairs and Miah’s blasted cologne. It was everywhere in this room, putrefying the sheets, absorbing into her clothes. She’d have to wash them for a week to get the stench out. At least it was only her T-shirt and underwear. She’d left her sweatpants on the foot of the bed. She’d started to get in with them on because the room had been chilly. But she kept thinking of Miah in that cold, half-gutted room down the hall and it seemed wrong to be in his bed and be cozy while he was probably shivering. So instead of wearing the sweats, she’d slid under the blanket, her legs bare and her feet instantly turning into ice blocks. In no time, the warmth of the down comforter had taken her sacrifice to a whole new level as she let her exposed skin move beneath the satiny cotton cloth. This was Miah’s bed. Had he changed the sheets? Probably not; with that, she’d snuggled in deeper, then proceeded to scold herself for doing so.

Being there was worse than she’d imagined. She’d even dreamed he lay beside her, brushing his hand over her head, whispering in her ear. When she’d turned to nuzzle deeper into him, he was gone. She closed her eyes and tried to remove every fragment of Miah. Impossible. Utterly impossible.

When a noise in the room across the hall grabbed her attention, she leapt up, out of the bed, grabbing her sweats on the way.

She slung the door open to find Jeremiah standing just outside David’s door. She hid as best she could behind the door, peeking around it. “Nightmare,” she said. “He’s been having them since the accident.”

Jeremiah raced into the room while Gray fought with her sweats. She pulled them on and flew into David’s room, where Miah was gently trying to wake him. When Miah saw her, he moved out of the way.

She sat on the edge of the bed. “David?” Her hands cupped his shoulders and her heart ached. His face was twisted into a frown, his smooth brow furrowed and sweat matted strands of hair on his forehead.

“No,” he said, voice rough with sleep and the obvious tension of the dream. “No. Don’t get in the car. Please. Don’t.” His hands reached out as if he could grab the ghosts haunting him.

Gray’s heart broke because she knew this dream, knew what was happening inside the head of the twelve-year-old boy who was trying to deal with the loss of his parents. Her voice waxed stern this time. “David. Wake up, honey.”

But he was still reaching for the unseen, and Gray thrust her hands into his while he mumbled, “Don’t go. Don’t.” And then he woke. Scared eyes darting around the room, landing on Gray. All of the fear and all of the pain of the whole world was summed up in that one troubled look, and Gray had seen it over and over again.

“I had them this time.” His voice was small, broken.

“I know, sweetie.” His flesh was clammy and his face pale in the slash of light coming from the hall. Gray wanted to scream. To stand up and just scream at the injustice of this whole thing.

“I had them.” And in one great quake of his shoulders, the dam of tears burst forth. Gray dragged him up into her arms and rocked him as he cried.

She was only vaguely aware of Miah slipping out of the room.

Gray noticed the lights on downstairs in the kitchen and followed the fresh scent of hot cocoa. It had taken close to an hour to get David calmed enough to go back to sleep. She brushed the hair from her face as she entered the room. A single overhead light illuminated the space. “He’s been having them for days.”

Miah tapped the spatula against the pan, but she figured it was more out of frustration than necessity. “I’m glad you were here.”

“About that—” This was her opportunity to explain why David needed to be with her. For now, at least. Her heart quickened.

His eyes were fire when they landed on her. “He’s not leaving.”

Same stupid, pigheaded McKinley. “Then next time, you’re up to bat.”

His gaze dropped to the swirling brown liquid. “I’m no stranger to nightmares.” Miah shrugged one of his wide shoulders. They were bare, his shirt off. A scar marred one pectoral muscle, and the remains of a summer tan created a barely visible line that cut his ample biceps into two equally large sections. Had he been shirtless earlier? She supposed, but hadn’t noticed. Now, it seemed the only thing in her vision and that irritated her.

“How did you know? You’re clear down the hall.” She chose that as a topic for discussion rather than his reluctance to cover his half nakedness.

“Heating vent runs from his room to mine. Besides, I wasn’t asleep.”

“Really?” And what was he doing awake in the middle of the night?

“An hour ago you were sawing logs like a lumberjack.” His golden eyes caught the light as he glanced up at her. Mischief and mystery danced there.

Her heart did a little flop and she steadied a hand there to equalize it. “And you’d know this from experience due to all the lumberjacks you’ve slept with?”

He chuckled, took a mug in one hand and poured cocoa into it with expertise that only came from years of practice. Right out of the pan and didn’t spill a drop.

“I see you haven’t lost your touch,” Gray conceded.

“I see you’ve kept you sense of humor intact, just well hidden under all that stuffiness.”

“Hey!” She pointed at him, puffed her chest a little, and then quickly realized what an error that motion was as Miah’s gaze dropped to the front of her T-shirt. Gray caved her shoulders and took the offered mug from his hands. To keep from allowing him to see the heat crawling across her face, she cradled the mug and turned to the window.

Miah stepped beside her and the scent that had invaded her night, her dreams, was right there, permeating the air between them. “I need you to stay on a few extra days. He needs you here.”

Her heart lifted as if she’d won the lottery and become the queen all in one fell swoop. Outside, snow still fell silently; small flakes had clustered and were larger now, beautiful as they fluttered to the ground and collected at the lake’s edge. Already the evergreens were thickening with an icing of snow. She didn’t trust her voice to talk about David or her elation about staying on for a bit longer, so she turned to a safer subject. “It wasn’t supposed to accumulate.”

Miah moved a little closer. “No. Two inches, no more, according to the weatherman and the news.”

She glanced over, confused at the wryness of his tone. “Right.”

He took a drink and made a face.

“What? You don’t like your own cocoa?” But she had a suspicion he’d made it for her, the scent having threaded its way to the stairwell after she’d gotten David settled. She was useless to resist.

“Guess not. I’m in the mood for root beer.” He stirred the chocolate concoction while staring into his cup. “Gray, what kind of kid watches the news every night?”

She stared at him, dead-on, though with Miah towering over her, it wasn’t a nose-to-nose moment. “A kid like David.”

“You know him so well, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Gray gripped the mug tighter. “I want you to get to know him, too, Miah. Just . . . just do it the right way.”

His mug hit the counter and sloshed. “The right way? What’s right about any of this, Gray? We’ve got a twelve-year-old upstairs trying to rescue his dead parents.”

She didn’t answer. How could she? Miah’s eyes were filled with the same confusion and pain she saw on a daily basis in David’s golden gaze. When she only shook her head, he said, “How’s that right?”

The words bit, scalded, even, as she drew them in and tried to absorb them. On a long exhale, she said, “It’s not. I’m doing the best I can here.”

And then his hand, warm from the mug moments ago, landed on her shoulder. “I know you are,” he whispered, and Gray could smell the cocoa on his breath. “But I’m not the enemy.”

She squared her shoulders and pulled away. “Anyone who tries to
take him from me is the enemy, Jeremiah.” Though she hated to admit it,
even Bill and Angela had become the enemy. How could they have chosen Miah as David’s guardian instead of her? She’d gone over and over it in her head. To them, money was important. Having the finances to give David everything he could ever want, but what about love? She’d loved him since the day he was born. How could they just snatch him away? Then again, Wilson had explained more than once that the Olsons really believed they were doing the right thing. David would want for nothing, and she’d maintain
the same relationship with him she’d always had. But they couldn’t have
known that she’d wanted more. That seeing her son grow each and every day was wonderful, but also left a hole in her heart.
They’d betrayed her. There was no one she could trust. “I don’t want any
more cocoa.” She placed the cup in the sink and walked out of the kitchen.

Miah stayed in the kitchen for a time, just listening to the silence of a house asleep. Gray had long since gone back to bed when Caleb entered and started digging things out to make a sandwich. He didn’t bother to speak to Miah. “You’re hungry? It’s the middle of the night.”

“My appetite is at its peak these days.”

Miah patted his shoulder as he walked past to get a can of pop out of the fridge. He opened the door and searched. “Are we out of root beer?”

“Yep.” The sound of a pop-top sliced the air and Miah’s mouth watered. Behind him, he heard Caleb guzzling the drink. “Oh, sorry. I took the last one.”

Miah shut the refrigerator door. “You got something to say, little brother, just say it.”

Caleb smirked, his blue eyes shooting sparks. “At least you gave her your room.”