Linger(5)

“She may not want us now,” Greer said carefully. “Time changes things. She married Sean. She’s a

different woman now.”

Taggert turned fiercely to Greer, slowing down as he did. “You look at that girl back there and you tell

me she’s a different woman. She’s hurting like hell. She’s grieving. She’s tried to stop living, but she’s

still the same sweet, giving girl we’ve known all our lives. She loved us, Greer. We shit on that love, but

she loved us, and I don’t believe for a minute she gave that love lightly. We can get her back. I didn’t say

it would be easy, and it shouldn’t be after we turned her away, but I won’t give up.”

“I hear you, man. She needs time, and she’ll have all the time in the world at the ranch where we can take

care of her and end this path to self destruction she’s on.”

Grief and regret, so much regret, swirled in Taggert’s stomach. Sean shouldn’t have died protecting

Emily. His older brothers let him down—let him and Emily both down. Taggert would have to live with

that for the rest of his life. But he wouldn’t surrender Emily the same way. She was alive, damn it, and

she was going to start acting like it.





Chapter Three


Emily woke in Taggert’s arms as he strode from the SUV toward the front porch of the two-story frame

house. She’d always loved this house. Whitewashed, it could have existed a hundred years before, a farm

house on a fledgling cattle spread. And it did, she reminded herself ruefully. This land had been in the

Donovan family for over a century, built when the west was still new, when people with big dreams came

to settle the raw, untamed land.

The sun was sliding over the mountains, and the chill of the spring air elicited a trail of goose bumps over

her arms.

Tagg looked down at her as he mounted the steps, and his eyes softened. “We’re home, Emmy.”

He set her down, almost as if he knew how important it was that she walk inside on her own. Greer

opened the door, and Emily stepped into the living room.

The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was hard to put a name on the smell of home. It was older,

musty but not unpleasant, just the reality of an aged house. There was a hint of tobacco, the scent of

leather and a faint whisper of daffodils.

Nothing had changed. The furniture was the same down to Taggert’s favorite threadbare armchair with

ottoman. The old television had been replaced and a flatscreen was mounted on the wall catty-corner to

the stone fireplace.

Through the adjacent door, she knew she’d find the kitchen the same as she’d left it, its large open floor

plan inviting and homey, the wraparound bar that hugged the entire kitchen a place for people to gather,

talk and eat at the end of a long day.

She could almost hear the laughter echoing through the hallways.

“Emily, my dear! It’s so good to see you.”

She blinked in shock to see Doc Summerston stand from his perch on the couch. She’d been so busy

remembering that she hadn’t even noticed him in the room. What on earth was he doing here?

“Hello, Doc,” she said a little nervously.

Greer wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a light squeeze. “We asked Doc to come out

and look you over.”

She inhaled in surprise and glanced sharply up at him and then over to Taggert who looked none too

apologetic.

“Is that all right with you, Emily?” Doc asked in a gentle voice.

Her shoulders went down in defeat. It didn’t really matter. The sooner she got it over with, the sooner she

could go to bed.

“Where am I sleeping?” she murmured.

“In your room,” Taggert said.

She nodded and started for the stairs, Doc following behind her. Was there a diagnosis for dead-and-

don’t-know-it? She almost laughed. Doc would think her terribly fatalistic.

“Well, we got her here, now what the hell are we going to do?” Greer demanded after Emily and Doc

disappeared up the stairs.

“That’s a loaded question,” Taggert said with a sigh. “We take it one day at a time.”

“It scares me to see her this way. It’s like she’s given up.”

Taggert scowled. “I think she gave up a long time ago.”

The two men paced the living room, and fifteen minutes later, Doc came down the stairs, a grim look on

his face.

“Well?” Taggert asked impatiently.

Doc sighed. “It hurts my heart to see her like this. I watched that girl grow up, so happy and sunny. No

one could look at her without smiling.”

“Is she okay? I mean physically?” Greer interjected.

“Well, yes and no. The problem is, she just doesn’t care. She’s weary to her bones. I doubt she’s slept for