Free Willow Spring by Toni Blake Page B

him at board games, and it stuck with you for some reason. You called me that over and over until everybody else did, too.”
    She smiled, liking that idea—that in her short time with this family she’d given them one small thing that had lasted besides heartache and pain—but then she went back into the memory to say, “She told me you were imaginary friends. Imaginary,” she repeated—and then she burst into fresh tears of anger she couldn’t push down. “But you weren’t imaginary at all. You were real, and you were here all the time, and she took me from you.”
    And then Mike was hugging her, and she was letting him, even turning her face inward against his shoulder, suddenly ready to let him protect her again—just a bit, even if he did like to hover.
    By the end of the evening, Anna was exhausted. And the truth was, she didn’t quite know how to feel. Warmly welcomed—or, again, overwhelmed. She’d been told there were lots more Romo relatives who would want to see her soon, and someone suggested having a big party to welcome her home to Destiny. Which sounded very nice . . . but also intimidating. Who wanted that kind of attention? It’d be different if she’d done something great—won an award, written a book, saved a child—but who wanted to be the center of attention for being abducted twenty-five years ago? “I’m . . . not sure I’d be up for that,” she admitted.
    Despite the fact that Mike and Rachel had plenty of bedrooms—they lived in the same family house where Anna had lived, too, when she was little—their parents had decided to stay in a motel in Crestview, the next town over and the closest place with accommodations, probably because they didn’t want to crowd Anna too much, which she appreciated. But that meant very long goodnight hugs at the door and a few more emotions and tears. And before they even left, Anna excused herself to go to the bathroom. She didn’t really need to go—she just needed a quiet moment to wrap her head around all that had taken place tonight.
    As she glanced in the mirror, though, she felt still more tears gathering behind her eyes. And she crushed them shut, but—damn it—it was too late. Grabbing for a tissue, she blotted away the wetness, tried to pull herself back together.
    She was leaning against a wall in the hallway a minute later, just out of view, still dabbing gingerly at the corners of her eyes, when she looked up to find Logan.
    “Hey, you okay?” he asked.
    She let out a sigh, bummed to be caught looking weepy again, yet gave him a nod. “Yeah. I guess. Just . . . kind of overwhelmed, I suppose. Needed a minute.”
    And she could tell he had indeed noticed the tissue in her hand and knew it meant she’d been crying. “I can imagine,” he replied, his voice soothing. “I just wanted to check on you when I saw you head in this direction, but I’ll leave you to yourself.”
    Though when he turned to go, she reached out, latched onto his wrist. Despite everything else going on, she’d stayed aware of him all night, and of the strange comfort his presence continued to bring her. So now it just seemed natural to say, “Thank you for being here. I realize I barely know you, but it helps.”
    “Glad to,” he told her, his blue eyes sparkling on her. Then he tilted his head. “Hey, any chance you remember me from when you were little?”
    She tried to think back, but the memories were so few, and so very hazy. Though it made her kind of sad to shake her head and say, “No. I’m afraid I don’t. Wish I did.”
    He shrugged. “I just wondered because you used to follow me around. You liked me a lot back then,” he added on a laugh.
    She didn’t hesitate to say, “I like you a lot now, too.” And then she followed one more instinct—to reach up and give him a hug.
    His body was sturdy and warm against hers, and . . . mmm, it felt far different than the hugs she got from Lucky or Mike. Just as she’d known it