remain.
“And interrupt her safety spiel? I’ll manage without.” She tossed two tablets into her mouth and barely managed to swallow them down, their bitterness forging a hot trail down the back of her throat as the jet picked up speed and began its ascent. Outside, the world sped by, shape bleeding into shape, color into color until it was nothing but a smudged painting without outline or frame.
When Morgan returned to Lakeview, she’d throw a bowl, letthe clay slip between her palms and slicken her fingers. She could picture it in her mind, large and round with a smooth, wide lip. She’d glaze it with the same smudged colors that passed outside the plane’s window. Blues and greens and gray. Splashes of white. When it was complete, she’d set in on the large table to the left of the gallery door. Maybe she’d sell it. Maybe not, but it would be there. Beautiful, real and solid in a way the world outside was not.
It was something to look forward to when she returned.
If she returned.
“Looks like we’re on our way,” Jackson said, his words carrying over the sound of the jet’s engine and Morgan’s echoing thoughts.
“Looks like it.”
“You don’t seem all that happy to be going home.”
“Spokane isn’t home.”
“Then where is?”
“I’m not sure I’ve figured that out yet,” she said without thinking.
“No?”
“Or maybe I should say that I’ve had so many of them in my life, I haven’t decided which one I should claim as mine.”
“Now I’m curious.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never met someone who couldn’t identify a particular place as home,” he said, studying her with an intensity that made her feel as if they were alone, two people with all the time in the world to get to know one another.
But Morgan didn’t want to get to know Jackson, and she certainly didn’t want him to get to know her. She needed to keep her distance and guard her heart, or she might find herself in a place she didn’t want to be.
“There are millions of people just like me, Jackson. Noteveryone grows up with loving, stable parents, you know. Not everyone comes home to fresh-baked cookies and help with her homework.”
“Sounds like you didn’t have much of a childhood.”
“Let’s just say I grew up quickly, and change the subject. I don’t enjoy talking about the past.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, because if we’re going to figure out where Cody hid that disk, we’re going to have to talk about it a lot.”
“For all I know, Cody never had a disk.”
“You think he’d lie?”
“If he thought he could protect himself by doing so, sure,” she offered, happy to turn the conversation away from herself.
“Even if it meant throwing you to the wolves?”
“If you insist on investigating Cody, you’re going to find out pretty quickly what it took me nearly six years to discover. Cody’s biggest concern was himself. If he were in enough danger, he’d throw his mother to the wolves.”
“Then I guess the question we need to ask is—what was it he was trying to protect himself from?”
“Or who?”
“That, too. Did he have enemies?”
“Probably as many as he had friends. Cody collected people, used them and then discarded them.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“Yeah. He was. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a splitting headache, and I’m going to rest my eyes for a while,” she said, quickly closing her eyes and shutting out Jackson’s rugged face and blazing blue-gold gaze.
He was right, of course. Morgan was going to have to dig into the past, think about Cody and try to figure out where he’d hidden the disk. She’d known that since she’d walked out ofthe hospital the previous night. What she didn’t have to do was discuss things with a stranger.
A stranger who seemed as familiar as an old friend.
If she let herself, Morgan could imagine sharing more than facts with Jackson. She could imagine telling him about the years she’d spent
“And interrupt her safety spiel? I’ll manage without.” She tossed two tablets into her mouth and barely managed to swallow them down, their bitterness forging a hot trail down the back of her throat as the jet picked up speed and began its ascent. Outside, the world sped by, shape bleeding into shape, color into color until it was nothing but a smudged painting without outline or frame.
When Morgan returned to Lakeview, she’d throw a bowl, letthe clay slip between her palms and slicken her fingers. She could picture it in her mind, large and round with a smooth, wide lip. She’d glaze it with the same smudged colors that passed outside the plane’s window. Blues and greens and gray. Splashes of white. When it was complete, she’d set in on the large table to the left of the gallery door. Maybe she’d sell it. Maybe not, but it would be there. Beautiful, real and solid in a way the world outside was not.
It was something to look forward to when she returned.
If she returned.
“Looks like we’re on our way,” Jackson said, his words carrying over the sound of the jet’s engine and Morgan’s echoing thoughts.
“Looks like it.”
“You don’t seem all that happy to be going home.”
“Spokane isn’t home.”
“Then where is?”
“I’m not sure I’ve figured that out yet,” she said without thinking.
“No?”
“Or maybe I should say that I’ve had so many of them in my life, I haven’t decided which one I should claim as mine.”
“Now I’m curious.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never met someone who couldn’t identify a particular place as home,” he said, studying her with an intensity that made her feel as if they were alone, two people with all the time in the world to get to know one another.
But Morgan didn’t want to get to know Jackson, and she certainly didn’t want him to get to know her. She needed to keep her distance and guard her heart, or she might find herself in a place she didn’t want to be.
“There are millions of people just like me, Jackson. Noteveryone grows up with loving, stable parents, you know. Not everyone comes home to fresh-baked cookies and help with her homework.”
“Sounds like you didn’t have much of a childhood.”
“Let’s just say I grew up quickly, and change the subject. I don’t enjoy talking about the past.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, because if we’re going to figure out where Cody hid that disk, we’re going to have to talk about it a lot.”
“For all I know, Cody never had a disk.”
“You think he’d lie?”
“If he thought he could protect himself by doing so, sure,” she offered, happy to turn the conversation away from herself.
“Even if it meant throwing you to the wolves?”
“If you insist on investigating Cody, you’re going to find out pretty quickly what it took me nearly six years to discover. Cody’s biggest concern was himself. If he were in enough danger, he’d throw his mother to the wolves.”
“Then I guess the question we need to ask is—what was it he was trying to protect himself from?”
“Or who?”
“That, too. Did he have enemies?”
“Probably as many as he had friends. Cody collected people, used them and then discarded them.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“Yeah. He was. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a splitting headache, and I’m going to rest my eyes for a while,” she said, quickly closing her eyes and shutting out Jackson’s rugged face and blazing blue-gold gaze.
He was right, of course. Morgan was going to have to dig into the past, think about Cody and try to figure out where he’d hidden the disk. She’d known that since she’d walked out ofthe hospital the previous night. What she didn’t have to do was discuss things with a stranger.
A stranger who seemed as familiar as an old friend.
If she let herself, Morgan could imagine sharing more than facts with Jackson. She could imagine telling him about the years she’d spent
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