Free Sleep No More by Susan Crandall Page B

the stairs where Uncle Father couldn't see her. It was bad to listen. But it could be Abby.
    Uncle Father answered with his grouchy voice. "What do you want?"
    Maggie listened harder. Uncle Father was never rude.
    He said, "I told you I'm taking care of her." He was quiet for a minute. "That would be entirely the wrong way to handle it." He was quiet again. "She doesn't know... Yes, I'm painfully aware of what's at stake." He hung up.
    Maggie wondered,
What don't I know? And why won't he tell me?
    Then it struck her like a hammer. Her ears started ringing and she couldn't breathe. He
is
dying.
    She swallowed down the cry that tried to come out.
    She tiptoed up to her room and closed the door. Then she lay down on her bed and cried into her pillow.
    Drawing on a reserve she hadn't been aware she possessed, Abby kept herself from falling to pieces in front of her father while she told him about her accident. Even as she began to recount the aftermath, she was weighing whether or not to admit her fear of sleep-driving. She didn't want him to worry--not to mention she didn't
ever
again want him to look at her the way he had after she'd burned down the house. And yet, she didn't want to outright lie to him either. Luckily he made it easy by not asking why she'd been out on Suicide Road in the middle of the night in the first place.
    That non-reaction was the only hint that he wasn't entirely himself. He'd acted perfectly normal otherwise. So normal and connected that she thought perhaps she'd been overreacting with her assumption something was wrong with him. She'd been exhausted, distraught, and in pain when she'd called him from the emergency room. Perhaps she hadn't been clear that she wanted him to come
to
the hospital.
    "You're sure you're all right?" he asked once again.
    Truth was, her equilibrium was shaky at best and she was so drained she could barely hold a coherent thought.
    Since he wasn't letting it go, she worked up more than the single word "fine" she'd used the past two times he'd asked. "Just a killer headache and some sore muscles." She cringed at her choice of adjective--killer. Was she?
    He seemed to read her thoughts. "It was an
accident,
Abby. The police didn't say anything that made you think they suspect you were criminally negligent, did they?"
    She shook her head.
    "Then let's not view this as anything more than what it was, an unfortunate accident. Motorcycles are so dangerous. If that fella had been in a car with a seatbelt on, he probably would have walked away like you did."
    But he didn't. And I can't remember.
    "Accidents happen, baby." He held her close and rubbed her back. "There wasn't anything you could have done to avoid it."
    "You don't know that--"
    He took her shoulders and held her away from him. He looked into her eyes. "I know
you
. If you could have avoided an accident, you would have. Remember when you drove Mom's car into the ditch to avoid hitting a squirrel?"
    She nodded. Her mom's car had sustained twelve hundred dollars' worth of damage; the squirrel only an adrenaline rush. Her dad had said that squirrel was the forest equivalent of the six-million-dollar man.
    But this hadn't been a squirrel. This had been a man. And she
hadn't
avoided killing him. She shivered.
    He wrapped her in a warm gentle hug. "You go ahead and take your shower. Then you should get some sleep."
    "Um, I really have some things I
have
to do today. Can I borrow the Explorer?"
    He looked at her from beneath beetled brows. "Sleep. You need to sleep."
    I may never go to sleep again.
    "I'll take a nap as soon as I have things at the shop under control." She paused. "I
promise
."
    "Why don't you let me take care of the shop for you today? I can make your deliveries."
    She needed him home where he'd be safe. And she needed to talk to the sheriff's department. If she told him where she was headed, he'd insist on going with her. She wanted to keep his stress to a minimum until she had an opinion from Jason about her