A uniformed deputy leaned against the railing, his focus on her. Inch by inch, she scanned the area ahead. Praying for anonymity.įeeling eyes on her, she raised her head. She put one foot in front of the other on the slick concrete. She slipped around his feet and avoided making eye contact with anyone. Now he needed water to stay hydrated and silence his cough. Coming to the match was a perfect example. The chemo treatments left him more helpless than he’d admit, and he continued to make decisions that weren’t always in his best interest. The same independence she’d fought since she’d come back to Portland weeks ago to care for him. His feisty attitude returned, along with his fierce sense of independence. I am not one of the preschoolers in your class, you know.
If I go fill this, will you be okay by yourself? He quickly gulped it down, then cleared his throat hard. She swirled the container, grateful to find a small amount of liquid still in the bottom. She grabbed his water only to discover she’d kicked the cup over. He gasped for air, his chest heaving with the effort. He suddenly clutched his neck and coughed, cleared his throat and coughed harder. He watched her for another second before turning back to the match. Nothing that’s worth taking you away from your game. What is going on in that mind that has you wound as tight as a spring? He eyed her for a long, uncomfortable moment. She jumped, immediately regretting her startled response when concern wiped away his joy. She just couldn’t.ĭid you see that save, Liebchen? he asked excitedly, using his pet name that meant sweetheart. Who’d believed in her when she’d been accused of killing Toby. Who’d stood by her when her father had gone to prison for murder. The man who’d helped her survive the loss of her mother. She loved everything about him, including his insistence that she use the informal German name for grandfather. Including risking recognition and someone calling her out in public so he could attend the soccer match. She didn’t know if he’d beat stage three cancer or how many more joyful days he’d have. Krista’s heart creased with concern for him. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, the pure joy of the sport widening his smile that was often marred from battling cancer. Her grandfather’s shout mingled with the crowd’s cheers for the Portland Timbers. Rain flooded from dusky skies, the seats glistening, the players soaked as they slogged over a field shadowed with whispery swatches of fog. Risked a quick glance around Providence Park’s open-air stadium. To shout out the horrific title she’d been branded with after her husband, Toby, was murdered four years ago. She hunched forward, hiding her face and holding her breath, waiting for someone in the crowd to recognize her.
0 kommentar(er)
