“It would take a special woman to be a part of our lives.”
“Do you have regrets?” she asked Quinn, knowing that he must have. Wondering how deeply they affected him.
“We all live with regrets, Cora. I’m sure even you have regrets concerning at least one of the choices you made in the past. But we learn to live with our actions. And minimize our regrets. Otherwise, they consume us.”
Cora considered Quinn’s words and couldn’t argue with anything he’d said. “No wonder Mack considers you such a close friend. He would agree with everything you said.”
Quinn smiled, then reached out his hand to help Cora rise.
“Has the doctor finished?” she asked.
“Yes. He’s having tea and a sandwich Mrs. Ramesdale made for him.”
“I need to go, then.”
“I’ll be up in a while. I want to check with the others first and tell them Mack will be fine.”
Cora nodded, then went back through the house and up the stairs. When she reached Mack’s room, she hesitated before entering. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if everything had changed. As if Mack wasn’t the only one who’d been beaten and left for dead.
Cora reapplied the salve the doctor had left to the worst of Mack’s cuts, then placed another cool cloth on his forehead. He was calm now, but Cora knew that could change at any moment. It was as if he fought to regain consciousness, but his mind told him that if and when he woke, the pain would be unbearable.
When she was sure he was as comfortable as he could be, she sat back in her chair.
She battled against a weight that had settled inside her chest when they’d brought Mack’s bruised and beaten body home. A weight that hadn’t been there before. It was as if a window had been opened that allowed her to see the whole picture of what a life with Mack would entail. Not just the exciting parts of helping him with a case he was working on. Or the time at the end of the day when they shared quiet moments alone.
The picture she saw now revealed the parts she’d refused to consider before. The parts she hadn’t known existed.
Her gaze rested on Mack’s face, and she reached for his hand. She almost pulled back when his fingers tightened around hers. But she didn’t. She held his hand and knelt beside the bed so that when he opened his eyes he would see her first and know he was safe.
He shifted in his bed, a little at first, then more. He was waking. His head moved from side to side, and he moaned. Then he held still, as if his mind realized it had endured this intense pain before and knew the best action was to lie still.
Very slowly one eye opened. The one that was swollen shut was unable to move.
“Lie still, Mack,” Cora said, standing at his bedside so that he could see her without having to move his head. “You’re safe now.”
“Do I look as bad as I feel?”
His voice sounded hoarse and raspy, his words were slurred more than just a little, but the one corner of his lips lifted as if he were trying to smile.
“To quote Quinn, you look like hell.”
“That’s how I feel.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Mack sank back against the pillows. “How are you?”
“Me? I wasn’t the one beaten nearly to death.”
The longer Cora spoke, the more choked her voice became. The closer to the surface tears rose. The angrier she became—at Mack, although she wasn’t sure why her anger was focused on him. Yet it was. For some reason she felt as if he’d ruined everything. He’d shattered her dreams and destroyed her heart.
Cora rinsed a cloth in cool, clean water and placed it on his forehead. Mack’s eyes were closed, and she thought he’d fallen asleep again, but he hadn’t. His next words proved it.
“Why do I think you hurt as much as I do?”
Chapter Seven
M ack sat on the edge of the bed until he was steady enough to stand on his feet, then slowly rose. Cora would no doubt be angry with him for getting out of bed without anyone in the room to help him, but
“Do you have regrets?” she asked Quinn, knowing that he must have. Wondering how deeply they affected him.
“We all live with regrets, Cora. I’m sure even you have regrets concerning at least one of the choices you made in the past. But we learn to live with our actions. And minimize our regrets. Otherwise, they consume us.”
Cora considered Quinn’s words and couldn’t argue with anything he’d said. “No wonder Mack considers you such a close friend. He would agree with everything you said.”
Quinn smiled, then reached out his hand to help Cora rise.
“Has the doctor finished?” she asked.
“Yes. He’s having tea and a sandwich Mrs. Ramesdale made for him.”
“I need to go, then.”
“I’ll be up in a while. I want to check with the others first and tell them Mack will be fine.”
Cora nodded, then went back through the house and up the stairs. When she reached Mack’s room, she hesitated before entering. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if everything had changed. As if Mack wasn’t the only one who’d been beaten and left for dead.
Cora reapplied the salve the doctor had left to the worst of Mack’s cuts, then placed another cool cloth on his forehead. He was calm now, but Cora knew that could change at any moment. It was as if he fought to regain consciousness, but his mind told him that if and when he woke, the pain would be unbearable.
When she was sure he was as comfortable as he could be, she sat back in her chair.
She battled against a weight that had settled inside her chest when they’d brought Mack’s bruised and beaten body home. A weight that hadn’t been there before. It was as if a window had been opened that allowed her to see the whole picture of what a life with Mack would entail. Not just the exciting parts of helping him with a case he was working on. Or the time at the end of the day when they shared quiet moments alone.
The picture she saw now revealed the parts she’d refused to consider before. The parts she hadn’t known existed.
Her gaze rested on Mack’s face, and she reached for his hand. She almost pulled back when his fingers tightened around hers. But she didn’t. She held his hand and knelt beside the bed so that when he opened his eyes he would see her first and know he was safe.
He shifted in his bed, a little at first, then more. He was waking. His head moved from side to side, and he moaned. Then he held still, as if his mind realized it had endured this intense pain before and knew the best action was to lie still.
Very slowly one eye opened. The one that was swollen shut was unable to move.
“Lie still, Mack,” Cora said, standing at his bedside so that he could see her without having to move his head. “You’re safe now.”
“Do I look as bad as I feel?”
His voice sounded hoarse and raspy, his words were slurred more than just a little, but the one corner of his lips lifted as if he were trying to smile.
“To quote Quinn, you look like hell.”
“That’s how I feel.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Mack sank back against the pillows. “How are you?”
“Me? I wasn’t the one beaten nearly to death.”
The longer Cora spoke, the more choked her voice became. The closer to the surface tears rose. The angrier she became—at Mack, although she wasn’t sure why her anger was focused on him. Yet it was. For some reason she felt as if he’d ruined everything. He’d shattered her dreams and destroyed her heart.
Cora rinsed a cloth in cool, clean water and placed it on his forehead. Mack’s eyes were closed, and she thought he’d fallen asleep again, but he hadn’t. His next words proved it.
“Why do I think you hurt as much as I do?”
Chapter Seven
M ack sat on the edge of the bed until he was steady enough to stand on his feet, then slowly rose. Cora would no doubt be angry with him for getting out of bed without anyone in the room to help him, but
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