of every move he made.
“I’d rather not talk about the past right now,” was all she could say.
“I guess I deserve that.”
She didn’t want to reveal the depth of her despair. That would leave her open to being hurt by Dane all over again, and she wouldn’t allow that to happen—once was enough. She shoved back her chair and rose. “I’d better get Tara fed, then we need to leave if we’re going to get any shopping done before the soccer game.”
“I’m eager to see Blake play. I just wish he was eager for me to see him play.”
“Give him time. He’ll come around.”
“I hope you’re right. It’s been a while since I’ve been a father.”
The wistful tone in Dane’s voice bothered her more than she cared to acknowledge. “It’s like riding a bike. If you fall, you can pick yourself up and try again.” Zoey prepared Tara’s breakfast, then started to sit and feed her.
Dane waved her away, taking the spoon and dipping it into the cereal. “I’ll do this.”
She glanced about her, needing something to do. She couldn’t just stand there and stare at Dane feeding their youngest daughter. Watching him with Tara brought emotions to the surface she wasn’t ready to deal with. How many times had she wished for this very thing? She had prayed for Dane to be a part of the children’s lives—her life—again, but how long would this last? Their discussion of what he was going to do underscored all the reasons she should guard her heart from further pain. He had broken it once before, and she had finally patched it together. She couldn’t go through that anguish again. Zoey began cleaning up what few dishes remained, then placed a call to her mother to make sure it was all right for Mandy to join Tara.
When Dane was finished, he wiped Tara’s face and hands, then lifted her from the high chair. “We’re all ready.”
Zoey scooped up Tara’s dishes and placed them in the sink to take care of later. “Then let’s go.” I need to be around people, she thought and headed for the front of the house. At the bottom of the stairs she called, “Blake. Mandy, it’s time to go.”
Mandy bounded down the stairs with one of her dolls clutched in her hand. “Nana’s making some clothes for Mrs. Giggles. They should be ready today.” She raced out onto the porch, leaving the front door wide open.
At a much more sedate pace Blake came down the steps, dressed in his soccer uniform, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped, as though he were going to do something he hated to do. But Zoey knew he loved to play soccer, which made his demeanor even more worrisome. She wished she could erase his troubles and make everything all right. But life wasn’t that simple, and her son was going to hurt because of that. Again she felt a helplessness—any control she had over her future gone.
When Blake reached the bottom, Zoey laid her hand on his shoulder, intending to draw him into an embrace, to let him know she would be with him every step of the way. He wrenched away and hurried toward the car.
“I’m sorry, Zoey. I know this can’t be easy for you, either.”
She looked at Dane, saw his usual neutral expression in place and struggled to keep her anger in line. What would it take for him to open up to her? Was it even possible for him to share himself totally with another person? How was this marriage going to survive when they really didn’t know each other anymore? How was she going to forgive Dane when he kept a part of himself shut off from her still? Not trusting her enough to share his innermost thoughts? Nothing had really changed in their marriage since he’d been gone. She remembered the desperation and sadness she’d felt right before his last assignment. It came to the foreground, demanding attention.
“It’s hard watching someone you care about hurting,” she finally said and followed her children to the car.
Zoey dropped Mandy and Tara off first at her mother’s house, then Blake at Nate’s. The silence in the car after the girls left was nerve-racking. Zoey flipped on the radio to fill it, but nothing lessened the tension churning in her stomach.
When she pulled into a parking space at the super center, she quickly exited the car and hurried toward the store. Suddenly she needed some distance, which thankfully Dane gave her for a few minutes. His nearness caused so many conflicting emotions to surface that it was hard to grasp onto any one feeling for long.
She waited for him with her shopping cart inside the door. Slowly he made his way toward her, his gaze intense as it bore into her. She had no idea what was going on in his mind. And to think about what he must have endured the past few years made her heart throb painfully. What she’d said to him before leaving the house was as much about him as Blake.
She gave him a tentative smile to try and ease the strain in their strange situation. She felt the corners of her mouth quiver from the effort, but she managed to maintain the smile. “I need to pick up some odds and ends. If you want to meet me back here, we can check out together.”
For a good minute he didn’t say anything. He scanned the rows and rows of items and for a fleeting few seconds a bewildered look entered his eyes. “I’d forgotten how big these stores are. I’ll come with you. I just need a few personal items.”
“We’ll pick up the coffeepot first.”
“You won’t get a complaint from me.”
“I noticed you didn’t eat much breakfast. That was usually such an important meal for you. Is there anything I can get you for breakfast?” she asked, needing to fill any silence between them with idle chatter. The silence allowed her to think, which had been the main reason she had tossed and turned the past night—that and the fact Dane was only a few rooms away. Those few rooms might as well be a continent.
Again Dane didn’t respond right away. Zoey slanted a look at him and noticed the tightening about his mouth. She didn’t know what to say to him—what was a good topic for conversation.
“I’m sorry, Dane, if—”
He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Uncomfortable, Zoey wheeled the cart toward the small appliance area.
“My love for coffee hasn’t diminished. I just haven’t gotten the chance to indulge like I used to. In fact, I haven’t indulged in much lately. I must say, what the jungle had to offer is quite different from what this store has to offer. Makes you appreciate the small things we take for granted.”
Even though he sounded cavalier, her throat ached with suppressed feelings. His closed expression prohibited further discussion. He’d always insisted he kept quiet about his work to protect her. He’d never understood she’d needed to share the bad as well as the good with him.
She compelled herself to smile. “Then after we shop here, I know a store that sells the best coffee in this part of Kentucky. We’ll have to hurry, though. We don’t have much time before the game.”
“Why, Zoey, it’s so good to see you. I heard the news. Is this your young man?” Susan Daniels, her mother’s best friend, asked, planting herself in their path, her sharp, assessing gaze on them.
Zoey knew they wouldn’t be going anywhere until they had satisfied the older woman’s curiosity. “Susan, this is my husband, Dane Witherspoon.”
He nodded, a finely honed tension emanating from him. “Pleased to meet you.”
“My, what a ruckus you’ve caused in this little town, young man. Coming back from the dead. You must tell us what happened sometime.”
Dane stiffened. “There’s not much to tell.”
Waves of tension rolled off Dane. Zoey stepped between him and Susan. “I wish we had more time to talk, but Blake has a soccer game in less than an hour and we still have a lot of shopping to do. We’ll have to chat another time.” She maneuvered her cart around the older woman and continued toward