The skin around Tara’s eyes was swollen, and the blotchy red areas stood out against her fair complexion. She’d been crying, obviously hard, probably for a while. Two days, maybe?
Summer stood quietly, waiting for her to speak first. Tara’s eyes darted away, then back, and a heavy sigh settled in her chest.
“Louis came home from Honduras the day before yesterday,” she said finally. “A month early.”
While the news sounded like it should bring Tara joy, that obviously wasn’t the case. Summer took her hand to lend moral support, then braced herself for what would come next.
“He brought...” Tara stopped and took a deep breath. “He brought his wife back with him.”
His wife. The words seemed to hold their shape in the void between them.
“His wife?” Had Louis been married all this time? “His wife for how long?” Anger stirred Summer’s already-churning stomach.
“They met shortly after he got there, and a month ago they decided they were in love.” Tara drew a ragged breath, but there were no tears. Probably none left, if her face was any evidence.
“He wanted to tell me in person. Not over the phone or in an email. When he told Mom and Dad, they thought it would be best if I came home right away instead of hearing it from someone who might call me here.”
“Oh, Tara, I’m so sorry.” Summer hugged her, and Tara’s answering embrace was strong. Her friend was holding herself together well, but that didn’t stop the anger from vibrating through Summer. “The no-good bastard.”
Tara pushed away, shaking her head. “No. Louis isn’t a bastard. He’s a great guy, and I want him to be happy.”
How could she be so calm? Summer wanted to shred his hide with her fingernails, and she’d never even met him. “But he hurt you,” she said, like she needed to draw her friend’s attention to that fact?
Tara’s snort held a bitter edge. “Yes, he did. But not as much as he would’ve hurt me if he’d married the wrong woman.”
Summer’s head swirled with vicarious resentment. “All those years of saving yourself?”
A half smile raised one corner of Tara’s mouth. “I’ve got a lot of years to make up for. And I need to think about something else now and get on with the rest of my life.” She gave a dismissive wave. Her eyes darted around, searching for something to attract her focus. They settled on the shovel. “I saw the article. Is Howie laying it on so thick now you need to shovel it out?”
Summer held up the shovel, but thought better of telling Tara just yet about all that had transpired during the night. “One of the kits is dead. I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to go meet the kids.”
Tara nodded. “I’ll put one of Ginny’s ice packs on my face for a few minutes. Maybe it’ll help with the redness. Then I’ll meet y’all at breakfast?”
“My stuff’s still in your room, so stay in my cabin tonight.” Summer didn’t give her a chance to disagree. “Another night away from the girls might be good for you. ...” In case you decide to cry your eyes out again. She kept that to herself as she trotted away, shovel in hand.
Arriving back at the Byassee place ahead of the group, she leaned the shovel against the house, noticing her hand trembled under the movement. The heavy stress of the past couple of days was beginning to show.
She breathed in, trying to recapture the peace and tranquility she’d always felt here, but the panicked beating of her heart was anything but tranquil as it drummed a frightening message into her brain. The disturbance bored deeper into her psyche, deeper than a dead kit or a corrupted mammoth dig, deeper than the possibility of her parents’ lost retirement...deeper even than the breakup with Rick.
The serenity of her favorite place had been violated, the angels chased away by some evil that still lurked. She could feel it despite the heat of the morning—an icy edge to the breeze warned her to leave and not come back.
She ran back to the main trail to meet the group, channeling the instincts of the vixen.
She couldn’t give a good reason why, but for the rest of the camp session, the Byassee homestead was off-limits.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DANIEL’S SMILE SAID IT ALL as he rose from the water a couple of seconds ahead of Carlos. Not only was he a fast learner, he was also