Sand Angel Page 0,41

to show her how much he loved her.

A cry in the night startled Zoë awake. She jerked into a sitting position. Outside the trailer she could hear the last of the diehards stirring. The music was silent, but laughter still rang. The alarm clock on the dresser announced three o’clock in neon red. She was tired and sore. The effects of the pain pill she took earlier clouded the edges of awareness. As she slid back upon her side, another mournful cry stopped her cold. Her pulse jumped as quickly as her imagination. Someone was in her trailer?

No. It wasn’t possible. She had locked her doors before turning in for the night.

“Zoë.” Her name was just a whimper, but she’d know that voice anywhere. Drew. The damn man had somehow broken into her home.

With enough anger to light a fuse, she tore off the sheet covering her and swung her legs over the side of the bed, every sore muscle announcing its presence. Her feet beat out her fury as she stormed down the several steps leading to the living room, stopping dead in her tracks when Drew groaned as if he were in pain.

Her first thought was that he had hurt himself riding. Concerned, she didn’t wait a second to flip the switch and bathe the room in light. Drew was curled up on her couch fast asleep, but it wasn’t a peaceful slumber. His forehead was moist with perspiration. He tossed and turned, nearly falling off as he muttered, “Travis dead. Where’s Norm? Gone?” Tears leaked from his closed eyes. He threw his arms around his head as if protecting himself, while he drew into a tighter ball.

Zoë pressed a palm to her mouth. What had he gone through in Iraq? She had stayed away from listening to the news, knowing that any information about the war would bring memories of Drew to the surface. It had been selfish, but it had been the only coping mechanism she had.

“Oh God,” he moaned as if the tortured cry was ripped from his soul. “I’ve been shot. Zoë!” This time he screamed her name.

“Shot,” Zoë whispered in disbelief as she dropped to her knees before him. She could have lost him, was her immediate thought. He jerked, the motion almost tossing him off the couch as she caught him, braced him from falling. “Drew,” she choked out.

“I need you,” he sobbed, each word filled with so much anguish they were a vise around her heart, squeezing, slowly ripping her apart. The agony on his face nearly broke her heart. “God, I need you so much,” he said breathlessly.

Had he needed her? Uninvited tears blossomed and fell down her cheeks. She batted at them, trying to chase away the guilt that rose. She hadn’t read any of his letters—couldn’t. When the first one had arrived she’d instructed her mother to return it unopened. Each time her mother had tried to talk to her about Drew, Zoë refused to listen. Instead, she ran away. Keeping distance between her and her family was distance between her memories of Drew.

He groaned low and deep, and the mournful sound made Zoë reach for his hands. They were cold to the touch. She held them tightly, hoping the heat of her body would warm him. “Drew. Honey, wake up.” She leaned in and kissed his brow.

“Zoë?” His eyelids rose, then snapped shut when they met the light.

“Yes.” She sniffled, fighting back the need to take him in her arms. “It’s me.”

“Sonofabitch,” he growled. “I’m sorry.” His weary tone was filled with regret. He squinted, looking up at her through misty eyes.

“Sorry?” Her response was a mixture of tears and laughter. “What for?”

“I woke you up.” He released her hands and rubbed his palms over his face. He looked as exhausted as she felt.

“You cried out in your sleep.” She quickly got to her feet, wiping her eyes, hoping he didn’t notice her tears. Nervously, she pulled at the hem of the silky blue teddy she wore. She should have grabbed a robe. A single strap slid off her shoulder and she nudged it back up.

“I—” He sighed, briefly closing his eyes again as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.” Slowly, he moved into a sitting position.

Zoë sat down at the far end of the couch, leaving distance between them, afraid if he touched her she would fall apart. “You were shot?” He jerked his puzzled gaze to meet hers. She forced a smile. “You