Page 72 of Fatal Deception
He might have laughed, but his brain didn’t feel like it was firing on all cylinders yet. “I…” He wanted—needed—to see Audra. They’d wheeled him into surgery before he’d had a chance to talk to her, they’d both been so busy giving statements and ensuring the loose ends of Karly Young had been tied up.
Now he wanted… God, he just wanted to see her. But his mother was here. She’d come all the way from Denver and… “Mom, it’s just a broken arm.”
She made a considering noise. “We were overdue for a visit. For seeing your life here. I know you’ve come home, but why shouldn’t we come here for a bit? Good for your father to get away from his precious lawn for a week or so.”
See your life here. No, he’d kept them away from it. Hell, he’d tried to keep himself away from life, but he’d built one all thesame. No matter what he’d tried to do. It hadn’t started with Audra, but it all seemed to center on her now and… His parents werehere. So…
“I’d like you to meet someone.”
“It wouldn’t happen to be a pretty woman named Audra who introduced herself to me as the reason you got hurt?”
He sighed heavily. Martyr until the end. “That’d be her. It wasn’t her fault.”
“You don’t think I know that? Sometimes it’s easier for people to take the blame and feel in control of everything that’s hurting their heart, than it is to accept bad things just happen.”
Maybe he’d realized that a bit on his own, but his mother articulating it clarified all that martyr in her. And maybe even a little in himself.
“She’s helping your dad hunt down some decent coffee,” Mom continued, her gaze shrewd. “She’s a sweet girl. First impression? I liked her.”
“Good.” Maybe it was the drugs. The exhaustion. Maybe it was just seeing his mother here in Wyoming. But the truth came tumbling out. “Because I think I’m in love with her.”
Mom didn’t react outwardly, but he saw her gaze study him, like she could see through him and determined it was true. “My suggestion would be not to use the wordthinkwhen you tell her. Your father made that mistake. I nearly ended things then and there.”
He laughed in spite of himself. “Noted.”
But he saw, or felt, his mother’s…concern. Trepidation maybe. Because he’d run away from one problem, and maybe she was worried he was just repeating old mistakes. So he felt like he had to tell her, had to explain…
“It’s not just her, you know. It’s this place. It’s a community. I have friends. No matter how hard I tried, everything, everyone…became more than just a job. More than just an escape from Denver. I left to…hide, I guess. Numb myself. But…”
She reached out, brushed his hair off his forehead, just like she’d done when he’d been a kid home sick from school. “But it sounds like you found your home instead.”
“Yeah, I think I did.”
“That’s all I ever wanted for you,” she said, and though her expression was calm, her eyes filled a little. But she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t—that wasn’t his mother’s way.
She cleared her throat. They both turned to look as the door to the room opened. Dad stepped in first, but he was followed by Audra. She had shadows under her eyes. She needed rest and home and…
She was here, and that was exactly where he wanted her to be.
“We’re going to stay a few days,” Mom said briskly. “Until you’re out of the hospital at least. No arguing. We’re going to go check into the hotel now. We’ll be back in the morning.” She reached out, took Audra’s hand. “It was good to meet you, Audra. I’m sure we’ll see more of you before we leave.”
Audra smiled in return. “I hope so.”
For a second, Copeland watched his parents and Audra and wondered if this was all a very elaborate dream. But then Audra sat in the chair next to his bed. She reached out, touched his face, and that touch was real.
He felt himself relax into the pillows beneath his head. Real. All this was real, and once he was out of here, it’d be time to figure out just what that meant.
“Your parents are very nice,” she said, a bit primly, but he knew she was trying to keep herself from apologizing about his arm.
“Yeah, they are.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Weird. Groggy. But okay. Guess I’ve got desk duty for a bit.”
She glanced at his cast, pain and no doubt a bit of self-flagellation there in her gaze, but she didn’t speak it. That was progress, he thought.
“I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry,” she said, very clearly struggling with that. “But only because your mother told me not to.”