. . .” He hiccupped on a sob. “I was gonna talk to Tess about it, but she wasn’t here, and I saw Wren, and I was really, really careful. But then she started to cry really hard, and I tripped and almost fell. And I knew I’d done a really bad thing and even if my mom dies, I knew I had to bring Wren back.”
Ian spoke as calmly as he could manage. “Tell me the truth. I promise I won’t get mad. Did you drop Wren? Did she fall?”
“No! That’s why I had to stop. My arms were hurting, and she was screaming and wiggling, and I was afraid I was gonna drop her. I was gonna bring her back. I promise!”
“Stay here.”
Ian went back inside. Tess had Wren wrapped in a blanket. He was still bare-chested and freezing his ass off. The black-and-red flannel shirt he’d given her weeks ago hung on a hook by the door. As he pulled it on, he gave Freddy a brief outline of what had happened. “The Eldridges don’t have a phone, and I need to get Eli home. You can talk to him tomorrow if you need to.”
“You’d better do something about that hand first,” Freddy said.
“Later.” He grabbed Tess’s car keys.
Freddy followed him outside and hovered over the frightened eight-year-old. “If you were my kid, you wouldn’t sit down for a month.”
Exactly what Ian was afraid of.
* * *
Paul came running from the field as he spotted Ian’s headlights. “Eli!” He pulled open the car door and reached in to grab his son. “Eli! Where have you been? What the hell did you do?” He glanced over at Ian. “Is the baby all right?”
Ian nodded. “Yes. We need to talk.”
“Damn straight we’re going to talk.” He jerked his son from the car and toward the front door. Ian followed.
Rebecca stood with one hand curled over the back of the couch to support herself. “Eli!”
Eli ran to her, crying and apologizing, his words muffling as he buried his face against her.
Paul stood watching them. His clothes were worn, his hands dirty. The deep, sun-etched lines in his face made him look older than he was. Ian touched his shoulder. “Outside. We have some things to discuss.”
Paul didn’t protest. He was a man comfortable with hard work, not emotional displays, something Ian understood all too well.
The dogs sniffed at Ian’s feet as they went into the yard. Paul pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. “I’ll make this up to you,” he said stiffly.
“There’s only one thing I want.”
“What is it?”
Ian gazed toward the ramshackle barn. “I grew up with an old man who beat the shit out of me. I want your word that won’t happen to Eli.”
Paul’s jaw tightened. “He’s going to be punished, that’s for damn sure.”
“Think long and hard about what that punishment is going to be.” Ian set his uninjured hand against one of the barn’s rough posts. “I’ll give it to you straight. What Eli did is on you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tess told you a week ago that your wife needs help. Hell, anybody could see that. But you haven’t done a damn thing about it, have you?”
“We take care of ourselves,” Paul said stubbornly.
Ian met his glare dead-on. “How’s that working out for you?”
Paul looked away. “She’ll get over it.”
“When? Eli believes his mother’s dying, and from the look of things, I can’t blame him. What he did was scary as hell, but it was the only way he could think of to help his mother. How does that feel, Eldridge? A kid trying to do what you won’t do.”
“You think I don’t love my kid? That I don’t love my wife? That’s why we’re here. So I can keep them safe from all the shit out there!”
“But what’s keeping them safe from you?” Ian said quietly.
Paul stared at him.
“You’re pigheaded and stubborn. Your wife needs counseling, medication—hell, I don’t know. All I know is that telling her to get over it isn’t working, and because of that, you put my family in jeopardy. You did it. Not your kid.”
Ian half-expected Paul to take a swing at him, but he didn’t. Instead, he ground out his cigarette and stalked back to his house.
* * *
Tess looked up at him as he came in. She was curled in the chair by the cabin window, her face pale and Wren asleep in her arms. She gave him a wobbly smile, a smile that