Free The One Worth Waiting For by Alicia Scott Page B

their fund-raising efforts. Of course, she should stop by the bank, buy more bandages at the pharmacy and pick up some groceries.
    With all those things to do, she’d be very busy all day. Busy and hectic and happy. Definitely too busy to think about some wounded man in the downstairs guest bedroom of her house. Or the way he looked in just a sheet. And certainly the way he looked suddenly clean shaven and freshly garbed at her dinner table.
    This was much better, she assured herself as she pulled into Mrs. Alston’s driveway. She’d been shut up in her house for the past five days, and that had made it hard for her to keep things in perspective. But now Garret was well enough to fend for himself, and as Cagney pointed out, she needed to return to her routine or people would be suspicious.
    So now she was back to business and life would return to normal. She’d be her old efficient, practical and busy self.
    It seemed to work. Mrs. Alston, sweet but fretful after a week with no company, required sincere attention. Then the kids, with all their exuberance, had forgotten to bring sponges, which Suzanne volunteered to fetch. Accustomed to the summertime car wash by now, plenty of locals stopped by with their pickup trucks and large sedans. She had her hands full trying to exercise quality control and manage the cash. By four, everyone was rosy checked, wet and happy. That left pizza and errands.
    With all this activity, the day seemed to just fly by. It wasn’t long before she was walking out of the grocery store, two bags in hand, and noticing the growing dusk. As she got into her car this time, her shoulders were tighter, her stomach tense.
    The last of her errands was done. And now she could return home, where Garret had been sitting and waiting all day. Her shoulders set even tighter.
    The dusk was thick when she finally turned into her own driveway, but no lights shone from her bay-windowed house. Instead, the three stories yawned gaping black windows, silent and still.
    She killed the engine and sat there for a moment.
    Maybe he’d already left.
    He now had clothes, and a few minor toiletries that Cagney had produced. Except for general weakness and his lack of memory, he wasn’t doing too badly. She imagined it took more than general weakness to stop Garret.
    She clambered out of the car and retrieved the groceries.
    It didn’t matter, she reminded herself as she climbed the steps of the front porch and began juggling the bags in search of her keys. She wasn’t some sixteen-year-old kid looking for fairy tales anymore. She didn’t lie in bed at night dreaming that this night he would finally come and sweep her away from all the despair.
    She’d outgrown all that simply by waking up each morning and finding herself in the same lumpy bed. Night after night, morning after morning, until Garret had been no longer gone for weeks or months, but years. She’d buried her mother and said goodbye to her sister. She’d saved her ancestral home and built herself a new life.
    She didn’t believe in rainy promises anymore, and she certainly didn’t believe in white knights. She knew how to take care of herself. Actually, she knew how to take care of everyone.
    Which, right now, seemed to include Garret. Or maybe it had included Garret.
    She finally managed to get her key in the lock, and with another quick adjustment of the grocery bags, she opened the door.
     
    The dark brought back memories, as well. He was gliding along, smooth and easy beneath the heavy, silted depths of the water. They weren’t down that deep, but the river was so thick it choked out the light. He moved with strong, rhythmic kicks, gliding through the water as soundlessly and gracefully as the SEAL name implied. His swim mate, Austin, guided them both with a flat compass that cut through the algae, while Garret kept his eyes focused on the depth gauge and counted kicks. Two people moving as one, they slid through the water effortlessly, the algae