Page 40 of Shadowed Witness (The Secrets of Kincaid #2)

Once he caught his breath, he pulled out the protein bar and savored a few bites as he headed for his new home.

The abandoned barn he’d found to stay in didn’t look like much, but it was a roof over his head and provided some protection from the wind.

Too bad there were no vending machines like when he was camping at Kincaid Lake.

Soon, he’d have to find someplace else to stay. Winter was coming, and he wouldn’t survive without better shelter. Maybe he’d migrate south for the winter—once he figured out how to settle things with Bernie.

BACK HOME, Allye made a fresh pot of chamomile tea, then settled into her office with the takeout she’d picked up as a consolation prize on her way back from the pharmacy.

Hopefully, she could lose herself in work and not spend any more time wallowing in disappointment—either over Eric or over losing Dion again.

She needed to work on Jayden’s senior pictures anyway.

With everything going on, she hadn’t made it back to the light edits she’d begun on Monday, and she’d really like to finish and get them off to his mom.

There would be more work to do once the family chose which poses they wanted, but at least she would have one step complete.

While the program loaded, she reached for her remote and turned the small office TV to a classic movies station. She smiled as she recognized the film. It was one of her favorites, but she’d seen it enough times it shouldn’t distract her from her work.

Chopsticks in hand, she sent up another prayer on Dion’s behalf, then she popped the lid off her pad thai and got started.

An hour later, she clicked send on the email to Mrs. Alexander and pushed back from the computer.

She’d been further along in the process than she thought.

Removing one thing from her plate was a relief.

But staring at the screen for an hour had amplified the pain in her head, despite the tinted glasses she’d remembered to put on halfway through.

Still, she’d done it, and she decided to take that for the win it was.

She powered off the computer and TV and headed for the kitchen with her leftovers. After stowing the container in the fridge, she slipped into a chair and folded her arms on the table, then lowered her head to rest on them.

It was too early to go to sleep, even though that’s all she really wanted to do at this point.

Maybe she should head to bed anyway. There wouldn’t be much time to recuperate over the next few days.

Starting fresh tomorrow—hopefully, minus a migraine—would be preferable to navigating the entire three-day festival in misery.

Before she could convince herself to make the trek down the hallway, knocking sounded at the front door.

Seriously, what was it with people today?

“Allye, I know you’re home.” Eric’s voice filtered through the window she’d left open. Knock, knock, knock. “You said we could talk later.”

She stifled a sigh. Ignoring him wasn’t accomplishing anything. She pushed to her feet and walked to the door. She snapped the dead bolt back, did an about-face, then plopped into her recliner, leaning her head back against the headrest. Eric could let himself in.

After a moment, the door slowly swung open. “Can I come in?”

She’d prefer he didn’t. “Yes.”

He crossed the room to her couch and perched on the edge. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Why the tinted glasses, then?”

“Because I like them.” An awkward silence filled the space between them. That hadn’t been entirely true, and her conscience wouldn’t allow the falsehood. She closed her eyes. “I’m trying to ward off another migraine.”

“I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice. “We couldn’t find Dion.”

Her heart panged, but she only nodded.

“Thank you for calling me though. It’s a relief to at least know he’s still okay.” He paused, but when she offered no response, he asked, “Any new incidents or messages?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” He went quiet again. She waited him out, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. But apparently he wasn’t finished yet. He cleared his throat. “Allye, I’m really sorry. I was a total jerk this morning.”

“Yes. You were.”

Despite her curt response, he continued. “I was wrong to assume the worst about you, and I had no business telling Bryce about your illness. I just want to say I’m sorry.”

Tears sprang to her eyes at the sincere humility in his words. No excuses. No projecting the blame elsewhere. She squeezed her lids more tightly shut.

The couch squeaked as he stood. “I’d better let you get some rest.” His not-so-confident footsteps trailed across the floor. “Let me know if you need anything.”

The door squeaked open.

“Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“I forgive you.” She didn’t dare look at him if she wanted any chance of holding back her tears, but she heard his breath of relief.

“Thank you.” The door shut softly, and a moment later, his engine roared to life.

She’d have to spend some time thinking about whether a relationship with him would be wise—assuming he even wanted one.

Forgiving him didn’t mean his words didn’t still hurt or that she could easily trust him again.

She had enough on her plate without subjecting herself to the emotional upheaval of a relationship characterized by simmering rage and angry outbursts.

Then again, she’d never known him to lose his temper. Most of the time, he was almost exasperatingly calm. Maybe that’s why this morning’s incident had shocked her so much.

She sent up a prayer for wisdom. Her muddled brain wasn’t in any state to make further decisions tonight. But one thing was certain.

A man who owned his mistakes and took steps to make things right was the real deal.