Whispering Springs. Amanda Stevens
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you remember slipping down to the springs the last time we were here? It was a hot night, but the water was cool and so crystal clear, you could see moonlight glinting off the silt and limestone bottom. We floated on our backs for the longest time, just gazing up at the stars.”
“I remember everything.” The taste of her, the scent of her, their forbidden promises.
She dropped her gaze to the floor as if she were thinking the same thing. “Anyway, Blair always had to work so hard for Tony’s attention. He seemed to put everything and everyone before her, as if she were an afterthought. I remember once she tried to plan a trip to South Padre for spring break. She made all the arrangements, and then Tony told her at the last minute that he wanted to go skiing with his buddies. She never let on how upset she was. She just smiled and shrugged off her disappointment. Then the night before he was scheduled to leave, she was mugged on her way home from the library. The assailant knocked her to the ground, put a knife to her throat and threatened to kill her if she screamed. He grabbed her purse and ran off. By the time any of us heard about the incident, Tony had canceled his trip to be with her. The two of them ended up going to Cancun alone.”
“I remember when she was mugged,” Dylan said. “But I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”
“She was very upset, and she seemed skittish for a long time after the attack. But here’s the thing. I was with her at the library that night and I remember distinctly her red leather handbag. It was very expensive and she’d coveted it for a long time before her mother finally broke down and bought it for her. A few months after the incident, Blair offered to loan me a dress for a formal event. I saw that same handbag in her closet.”
“Maybe her mother bought a replacement.”
“That’s possible.”
“Or maybe the police found her bag and returned it.”
“Also possible.”
“But you don’t think so. Did you ask her about it?”
“No.” Ava made a helpless gesture with her hand. “Maybe I didn’t really want to know. But I had the same feeling that day in her apartment that I had earlier in her suite. Something was off. Maybe I was wrong then and maybe I’m wrong now. But, Dylan...”
“Yes?”
“Be careful, okay? My instincts are pretty good these days.”
“You think I’m being played?”
“Just...be careful.”
“I will.”
She nodded, absently running a hand up and down her arm as if suddenly chilled. “I should get back downstairs. The others are probably waiting.” But she made no move to the door.
“Something else on your mind?”
She looked as if she wanted to flee, but instead she held her ground. Her head came up, and Dylan watched in fascination as her expression shifted.
“Why did you lie to me earlier when we spoke on the terrace? Working for a private security firm is hardly being at loose ends.” Her tone was more curious than reproachful.
“It wasn’t my place to tell you the real reason I’m here, but I didn’t lie. There are times when I do still feel at loose ends.”
“You don’t like your job?”
“It has nothing to do with the job.” He hesitated, uncertain how much he wanted to reveal about his current frame of mind. “It’s hard to explain, but when you come back from combat deployment, there’s a feeling of disassociation. Maybe displacement is a better word. Like you don’t really belong here anymore. Like you don’t belong anywhere. It doesn’t go away overnight.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You asked and I’m trying to explain, but I’m not complaining. I’m lucky I made it back at all. But it takes a while to feel normal again. No one tells you how to get your old life back.”
No one tells you that even little things like sleeping in a real bed and eating meals at regular hours require an adjustment. You become so accustomed to operating on hyperalert that boredom can easily set in even in the middle of a task. You find yourself restless and anxious at the most inopportune times. And then when you think you’ve finally reintegrated, the nightmares return and you wake up thinking about the friends you lost and the ones who are still over there, the ones who won’t ever come home. You hear about a suicide and then another and before you know it, you’re back in a very dark place.
“Dylan?”
He pulled himself away from the edge. “Yeah?”
Her voice softened. “Why do I get the feeling you’re still not telling me the whole story?”
“I wouldn’t want to bore you.”
“As if you ever could.”
He felt sucker punched by her smile. “Give it time.”
Her expression sobered. “I’m glad you’re home. I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks.”
She looked around as if searching for a graceful exit. “I really should get going.”
He caught her arm as she started for the door. The action surprised him as much as it seemed to surprise her. She lifted her head, searching his face, but she didn’t try to pull away.
“Really. Thank you.”
Her eyes deepened as she gazed up at him. “For what?”
“For caring, I guess.”
“This may come as a surprise, but I never really stopped.”
* * *
AVA FLED TO HER ROOM, flinging herself on the bed for a moment before rising to splash cold water on her face. She ruined her makeup and had to reapply, but it gave her something to focus on besides Dylan Burkhart. Besides her pounding heart.
What had she been thinking, going to his room alone, putting herself through a second confrontation when it would be so much easier for her peace of mind if she simply avoided him? Whispering Springs was a big place. She could get through the next few days without another one-on-one. The last thing she needed was to succumb to old memories, and even worse, to become ensnared in another of Blair’s intrigues. Ava had her own problems. Let Dylan handle the Reddings. This trip was supposed to be all about rest and relaxation. A reset, so to speak, so that she could go back to Houston and get on with her work.
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