Free The One Worth Waiting For by Alicia Scott Page A

penetrated even the roar of the flames. Working with a team of faceless men to fight the fire, men not in camouflage or even fire-fighter uniforms, but men in denim and cotton, all covered in soot and sweat, all still fighting the fire while the snipers tried to pick them off one by one. And walking back to the camp with those shadowy men, his new team.
    Then, coming to the rocks, the ax in his hand, the birds circling overhead, he saw the bodies.
    “No,” he muttered, low and frustrated and fierce, pounding his fist abruptly on the table. Hot pain lanced down his side, but he didn’t even mind the piercing slivers. He just wanted to remember. For God’s sake, he had to remember.
    His fist rose again, and for one savage moment, he really wanted to slam it through the wall. But at the last instant, he saw Suzanne’s face and knew he couldn’t do that to her house. He raked his fingers through his hair instead, and his whole body shook with the effort at control.
    “Garret?” Suzanne whispered. She remained poised at the end of the table, her face pale as she watched his face contort and his muscles practically scream his fury. For a long minute, she didn’t dare move, afraid the slightest startlement would send him over the brink. Then, as she watched, he slowly reined himself in inch by inch with a tremendous effort. He sat like a stone, and his face looked grim. “It’ll come back, Garret,” she murmured, her hand reaching out a little on the table, only to flounder halfway and fall limp. “Give yourself a little time.”
    “I don’t want time,” he said lowly. “I want answers.”
    She shrugged helplessly, not sure what to tell him. “You have to get your strength back anyway,” she returned. “You can at least work on that now.”
    It seemed to help, for his obsidian gaze drifted up to find her face. Slowly, he nodded. “I can do that.”
    She offered him a small, hesitant smile. “It’ll work out.”
    “Always an optimist, Suzanne. You know, you really ought to make me leave.”
    She stiffened a little, her eyes automatically wary. “What do you mean?”
    “I don’t know what’s happened, Suzanne. Until I do, I can’t very well protect myself, let alone you. You deserve better.”
    “Cagney said you would be safe here.”
    “With all due respect, Cagney’s a small-town sheriff. What does he know?”
    Suzanne frowned and her lips thinned. “Just because you always thought you had to leave doesn’t mean there aren’t some pretty neat things and people right here in Maddensfield. You’ve been away a long time, Garret. With all due respect, what do you know?”
    Abruptly, Garret grinned, and just like it did fifteen years ago, the grin made her heart leap in her chest. All at once, he was the old, wild Garret. And for no good reason at all, she felt reassured.
    “Point well taken, schoolteacher,” he drawled. “Point well taken.”
     
     

 
    Chapter 4
     
    S uzanne crawled behind the wheel of her old Ford and breathed a sigl of relief. She was back to her routine. Everything would be all right now.
    She’d risen with the dawn, her mind promptly full of all the things she had to get done today. People to check up on, the car wash to set up, groceries to buy and other various errands to run. She’d breezed through her morning walk aware of only the sun shining through the trees and the hint of blackberries in the air. Shower, change, and then she was on the back porch with her chamomile tea to admire her roses.
    Nothing stirred behind the door down the hall, and that’s the way she wanted it. After finishing the tea, she’d grabbe her purse and, at 8:30 a.m., finally rejoined her hectic life. She had to check up on eighty-year-old Mrs. Alston and probably restock her pantry and write a letter or two for her. At eleven, Suzanne was due down at the church to organize for the car wash. She’d oversee that until four, then most likely take the kids out for pizza and congratulate them on