Unlike Sadie.
Suddenly feeling as if someone had dropped a bag of bricks on her chest, Sadie hurried outside. For long moments she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the need for the cool, fresh air. Ever so slowly, her lungs loosened, letting the air inside, until she no longer felt that her body had seized up. Without thought she drew her phone from her pocket. A quick swipe and she was calling her own mother, almost desperate for the reassurance that she still had some semblance of a family to go home to.
Only no one answered.
There could be a lot of reasons for that. Her mother was in the other room, or tending to Amber. Still, tears welled beneath Sadie’s eyelids. She missed her mother so much. And her sister, who was often too weak to talk for more than a few minutes on the phone.
Careful steps took her to the window. She looked in at the party, which was still in full swing. Raising the camera, Sadie took a few shots of the people inside, framed by the decorative greenery on the window casing. She hoped to capture the essence of revelry, especially the family who had so generously offered this opportunity.
But she was on the outside looking in.
And just as Sadie started to feel sorry for herself, Zach turned to face her. His gaze unerringly found her, holding her immobilized with a simple look. A look that laid his soul open, telling her he could be trusted. That a man so beloved by those around him didn’t have any dark secrets to hide.
No. The secrets were all hers.
Nine
The minute he’d seen her through the window, he’d known he had to go to her.
Zach wanted to hold her, touch her as he had too few times. But now that he was here, he found himself hesitating. Her beauty in the half darkness, illuminated by the twinkling lights surrounding the window, took his breath away.
She didn’t look at him, remaining in profile. “Your family is beautiful,” she said.
So are you.
But the yearning in her voice kept him quiet. Somehow he knew, though he could easily seduce her, that this wasn’t the time.
“You’ve built a good life here,” she went on. “Are you happy?”
“For the most part,” he conceded. Though even surrounded by family and friends he was often lonely, aching. His nature made him a protector, yet he yearned for someone to share the burden with him. “Are you?” he asked, curious.
Sadie had talked very little about her life away from him. Oh, they’d discussed books, music, photography and many other things. But looking back, he realized how little of herself she’d actually given him. As if she were afraid to do so.
“Not often.”
In the dim glow he could see her eyes widen; she was surprised by her own response. Why? It was certainly honest. Was she surprised because she’d told him the truth?
And that would be the crux of his wariness when it came to Sadie’s return. The more he was with her, the more he was convinced she was holding back, keeping things from him. That wasn’t what he wanted. That was why he hadn’t gone back to the bed-and-breakfast with her again, even though he wanted more than just one night with her.
So he asked, “What about your family?”
Her hesitation sparked impatience deep inside. “You do have a family, don’t you, Sadie?” He took a step closer. “Or are you alone in the world?”
The thought brought sadness for her, tempered by the knowledge that he could have kept her from being alone...if she had let him.
“Tell me, Sadie.” Something. Anything.
Then she turned to face him, and his impatience melted away. Tears stood in her eyes like small puddles left from a wintry rain. “I miss my mom,” she whispered.
Those gorgeous green eyes slid closed, cutting him off from the aching vulnerability. When they opened again, her gaze was still glassy, but more controlled.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Dallas.” A small smile graced her lips. “I’m not a complete vagabond.”
She went quiet once more, a long silence that made him wonder if she would speak again. Just when he gave up hope, she said, “Your mom reminds me of her—hardworking, concerned over her children, never giving up hope.” Her deep breath cracked his heart. “I wish I could take care of my mom the way you take care of yours.”