Linger(32)
“And now?” He peered at her over his glasses, his stare probing. “How are you now?”
“Better,” she said quietly.
He smiled. “That’s great. You and I have a lot to talk about, Emily Donovan.”
“Frank,” Taggert growled. “You promised.”
Frank raised an eyebrow as he turned in Taggert’s direction. “I promised I wouldn’t badger her. I just
want to talk. No harm in that.”
“I won’t sing,” she said flatly. “I haven’t sung in a year. I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to.”
The memory of the haunting melody she’d sung from her heart at Sean’s grave shifted painfully through
her. That was private. For Sean. She wouldn’t do it in public again.
Frank’s expression softened. “Come out on the porch and talk to me, Emily? I can’t stay long. My return
flight is in a few hours. I have to be back in Nashville.”
She nodded reluctantly. She owed him this much. It was too bad he’d come all this way for nothing, but it
finally solved the issue of her facing him again. Better to have it over with so she could dispense with the
demise of her career.
***
Taggert stepped onto the porch as Emily stood watching Frank tear down the long dirt driveway toward
the main gate.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She turned, and he could see the haunted grief in her eyes again. Eyes that for the space of one night had
been clear and beautiful. He sighed. He and Greer had a long road to travel with Emily.
Her long blond hair lifted in the back, carried on the light breeze blowing over the porch. It was like
liquid sunshine. He’d always loved her hair. In the past it had always been indicative of her carefree
personality. When she smiled, she glowed, the silvery strands adding to her warmth. It served as a
reminder of all he and Greer wanted to get back. But could they ever truly go back?
“Yes,” she said simply. “He won’t return.”
Taggert held out his arms, and she went willingly, burying her face against his chest.
“I don’t mind if you never want to sing to crowds again. Or go into the recording studio. But baby, you
love to sing. It’s part of who you are.”
She stiffened and curled her fists, gathering his shirt tight in her grip.
“It’s part of who I was,” she said dully.
He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, wishing he knew what to say, what he could do to make it all
better. It wasn’t that he had to hear her sing again, though he wanted it more than anything. Singing was
just Emily. It had always been Emily. There was never a time she wasn’t humming a tune, plucking her
old guitar or scribbling lyrics down on every scrap of paper she could find.
It hurt her not to sing. He knew it as much as he knew anything else. She’d never fully heal until she
could put what happened to Sean behind her and embrace her gift again. Even if it was just for her and
she never made a public appearance again.
His fist curled in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to make the bastard who’d done this to his
family pay. Bleed. The irony was that he was out there. Free. While Taggert’s family suffered.
“Come inside. It’s time to eat, and you know Buck gets cranky when we keep him waiting.”
She glanced up, her lips twisting into a rueful smile. “Not going to lecture me on getting on with my life
and not letting that bastard win?”
“Is that what Frank told you?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s right. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t change anything, Tagg. Do you
understand that?”
The pleading in her voice tore at his heart.
He tugged her into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. For a long moment he just stood there,
staring out over his land. His and Greer’s land. Sean’s land.
“I understand, Emmy, I do,” he finally said. “I know this can’t be rushed. It’s hard for me. I’m a guy.
Guys want to fix things. I can’t fix this, and it’s killing me.”
He felt her smile against his chest.
“Don’t give up on me?”
He pulled away and nudged her chin up with his knuckle. “Never, baby. Do you get that? Greer and I
aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”
Her eyes were wide and luminous, shining with a silken veil of tears. But her smile lit up his entire heart.
“I love you, Tagg. Do you have any idea how good it feels to be able to tell you that and for you to accept
it?”
His throat swelled, threatening to shut down his ability to speak. He wasn’t sure what the hell he’d say to