“Red.”
“Good choice. So you’ve decided to wear the Lily Jewel gown?”
“No. Can’t wear it.” Taylor frowned at the smudge in her little toenail and debated redoing the nail, and then figured it was fine. No one would be looking that closely at her feet. “It’s too... everything... for me. And I’d be terrified I’d tear it or spill something on it.”
“She’s giving it to you.”
“Well, I’m giving it back. She should have someone rich and famous wear that dress. Not a boring librarian like me.”
“You’re far from boring, and you know it.”
Taylor screwed the cap on the nail polish, and stretched, relaxed, and happy. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m excited about tomorrow night.”
“Finally. I’ve been worried about you. You have Marietta’s hottest bachelor taking you to the Ball. You should be counting your blessings, girl.”
“I know.” Taylor glanced down at her glossy red toes and fingertips and then up at Kara, and smiled, unable to hide her excitement. “I am.”
Friday afternoon Taylor had planned to leave work an hour early to go get her hair done. She’d wanted a blow out so her hair would be sleek and shiny and she could wear it down, but just before she left the library she spotted a tall lanky body on the wooden bench in the library foyer.
His coat was open. His dark blonde hair mussed.
Doug.
She couldn’t believe it.
It was bad. Terrible. He’d broken one of the rules of his probation, leaving Hogue Ranch without permission.
Taylor hadn’t even been able to speak. She just looked at him sitting on the bench, his head bent, his thin body angled forward, hands braced against his knees.
She sat down next to him. “Doug,” she whispered, unable to think of anything to say, stunned, disappointed. Speechless.
He didn’t say a word. He just reached out and took her hand. Held it tightly.
His hand was icy cold and his fingers wrapped around hers, holding her hand snugly, desperately. She felt his pain. Felt his anger and pain and desperation.
He was in trouble. Not just trouble with Hogue, or the law, but trouble emotionally, psychologically.
She nearly started. His shoulders heaved. He made a rough sound deep in his chest.
He was crying. Or trying not to cry.
Either way, it broke her heart.
She wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezed him, feeling the crisp frost on his coat. He was chilled through.
“What happened?” she whispered.
He wouldn’t look at her. He turned his head so she couldn’t see his face. “Can’t live like this. Can’t continue like this.”
For a second she couldn’t breathe. “The depression’s back?”
“It never goes.”
“Then we don’t have you on the right medicine.”
“I’ve been telling everyone that, but no one listens.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s too late. They’ll arrest me now for leaving the ranch.”
“But if you needed help, medical help—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He ran his hand beneath his eyes. “Doesn’t change me. Doesn’t change my future. Can’t live like this, Taylor. I’d be better off dead.”
“Well, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t imagine life without you.” She squeezed his shoulders again, pressing as close as she could, needing to send love into him, through him, healing love, and hope. She needed hope, too. She loved her brother more than anything. Her parents might have abandoned him, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Ever. “We just need the right doctor and the right medicine and we just have to take it one step at a time.”
“I’m so sorry, Taylor. I’m so sorry for everything.”
“It’s not your fault. Your brain is wired differently, but it’s still a beautiful brain, and you are a beautiful man and we’re going to get this sorted out. I promise.”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “You think?”
She inhaled as she saw his black eye and swollen nose. “What happened?”
His head dropped again. “Nothing.”
Something had happened. His face was black and blue. Taylor squeezed her hand into a fist. “Who did it?”
“Had a fight, that’s all.”
“With who?”
“Doesn’t matter. I left Hogue. I broke my contract. I’ll be going to jail.”
“Maybe. And maybe not,” Taylor said, remembering what McKenna had said about hiring a good attorney. Maybe it was time to ask for favors from her friends here. McKenna knew the right people. Maybe it was time to reach out and ask for help. Brock Sheenan might be a good person to approach. The worst thing he could do was say no. “We’ll go to Kara’s,” she added. “Make some calls, come up with a plan. Alright?”