Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.3 - Riding Through Fire

Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.3 - Riding Through Fire by Kate Sherwood

Book: Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.3 - Riding Through Fire by Kate Sherwood Read Free Book Online
Authors: Kate Sherwood
Riding Through Fire | Kate Sherwood
    school for the occasion, maybe he won't be there (although Jeff knows damn well that he will be, nudging knees and leaning over Jeff's shoulder and strutting around half-naked by the pool, his golden skin glowing in the sun). Jeff will make it through one more night of temptation, and then he'll just avoid the damn problem. Alex works in the city, and Karen spends a lot of time there too. There's no reason Jeff can't maintain his friendship with them over dinners in restaurants, or barbecues in Jeff's back yard, or any damn thing that doesn't involve their son and his laughing hazel eyes.
    Jeff turns the wheel and eases the car onto the driveway. The house is set well back from the road, with some meadows and a little forested area to drive through before the residence is even visible, and he takes the time to collect himself. He's a grown damn man, not some hormonal teenager.
    He can tell something's wrong as soon as he pulls up to the house. There are too many cars, including a police cruiser, and there's a small cluster of people loitering out on the porch, looking anxious and awkward. Whatever it is, it's big, and Jeff feels his stomach drop, and then tighten. He doesn't so much park as he just stops driving and turns the ignition off, and then he jerks out of the car, striding towards the house as his eyes fall on Alex's assistant. She's crying, but she sees him coming and steps towards him.
"Sam?" he manages. "What is it?" They both know what he means. Who is it? There's no answer that isn't a tragedy.
    Sam takes a deep breath and grabs Jeff's arms at the elbows. He raises his hands and returns the grip; he's not sure if he's supporting her or if he's going to start shaking her if she doesn't talk soon. Her voice is ragged when she speaks. "Alex and Karen. They…they were driving back from the city. There was…." But she's crying too hard to finish. Jeff doesn't think he needs to hear any more, but he guesses he needs to be sure.
He looks over to the others on the porch, and his eyes meet those of

Riding Through Fire | Kate Sherwood
the police officer. "They're both…." Jeff can't quite say the word.
    The cop nods carefully. "I'm sorry. They were airlifted to the city, but there were no vital signs at the scene, and the hospital was unable to resuscitate them."
    There are more questions that need to be asked, details that need to be agonized over, but Jeff hasn't got time for that. "Evan? And Tat?" Jesus, Tatiana. Nine years old.
Sam nods towards the door. "They're inside. They needed some time alone, but… I think they'd want to see you."
    Jeff isn't sure about that, but he'll give the kids the option, in case they need him. He feels numb, like he's still not quite accepting what's happened, and maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe he'll be able to stay calm, and give the kids what they need, if he can keep from thinking about his own loss, the death of his two best friends, the tragic waste of such vibrant lives.
    He knocks gently on the front door and then pushes it open. All of the earlier anticipation he'd felt is gone, and he feels only a cold sense of dread. His pain will be nothing compared to theirs.
    There's no sign of anyone, and Jeff isn't sure if he should intrude, isn't sure if he'll be wanted. But he doesn't like the thought of the kids being alone, and he's pretty sure Alex and Karen would have wanted him to at least offer to help. He thinks for a second, then heads for the kitchen. It's a huge room, the work area at one end, a big rustic table at the other, with a wood-burning fireplace on the wall. It's the heart of the home, the site of so many happy memories, and Jeff can imagine the kids seeking comfort there.
    He taps his fingers against the door to the kitchen and goes through it, and he sees Evan sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, his arms wrapped around Tat, rocking them both back and forth. Evan looks up, his face tear-stained and young, so

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