He went down the hall to the other bedroom, and then she heard him slip out the back door. She lay there wondering if the men would mind if she joined him in case he wanted someone to talk to. Boone and Kendall seemed surprised that he talked as much as he did with her. She liked that he trusted her and felt he could open up to her.
Careful to not disturb them, she climbed from the bed and pulled on one of Kendall’s work shirts. Grinning, she cuffed up the sleeves that hung way past her wrists. The shirt reached to her knees. She buttoned it up and tiptoed to the back door and looked out the window.
He was on the porch glider, and his big frame seemed tense as he sat with elbows on knees and his head down. He’d had time to think and process since they’d settled down to sleep, and she’d wondered if he was coming to grips with letting Michelle go. She felt like a voyeur, getting such a clear glimpse of his struggle.
She opened the back door quietly and approached the glider. He looked up at her and patted the glider beside him. She perched on the edge and faced him.
“Having trouble sleeping?” she asked softly.
“Yeah. I can’t get my mind to shut off. Just thinking.” The rough, vulnerable timbre of his voice cried out to her heart.
“Thinking about Michelle?”
“Sort of. How about you?” Getting over Michelle’s loss was going to be like peeling an onion. It had to be done one layer at a time.
“Morgan’s challenging words to me, to dare to live, keep me moving forward, but I still feel the grief. Sometimes…I don’t think I’ll ever get over losing Morgan. Not really. He was very good to me.” Her voice broke, and her quivering lips made it hard to continue speaking. She paused, trying to get a grip on her emotions as she looked at her hands twisting in her lap.
She’d never felt this way when she’d dated, before Kendall had come to get her. This felt like she was letting Morgan go and it hurt.
In a deep, husky voice, Richard said, “I missed her so much at times, Maya. I thought it would kill me.”
All Maya could do was nod because she knew the feeling. They reached out to each other at the same moment and were united in their grief. He lifted her into his lap and she pressed her forehead to his bowed neck.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered, “I don’t expect you to forget her, Richard. I don’t want you to. I couldn’t forget Morgan. But I love you, too.” Those words, spoken aloud, released the dam she’d been struggling to keep intact, and she broke down in his arms. In that brief moment it felt like Morgan released her.
Richard’s arms tightened around her, and his big body vibrated with tension as he struggled with his own feelings. Maya felt wiped out by the spectrum of emotions she had experienced in the last few days. She cried for Richard, Michelle, Morgan, and herself.
Richard cupped her face in his palms and stared deeply into her eyes. Her pain was reflected in his pale eyes. “It hit me hard. Sometimes it’s like that. I’ll go for weeks and be fine then something will trigger it. I feel…” He pressed his forehead gently against hers and closed his eyelids. The muscles in his arms were tense as he held her. “I feel like I’m letting her go.”
“Yes. It hurts,” she whispered as he held her tightly.
They grieved together in the quiet, interrupted only by the occasional bird call and other night sounds. When the storm of emotion finally receded, Maya realized Richard was rocking them both on the glider. The smooth back and forth fluidity of the motion soothed her as he held her close.
“I’m glad we’re moving on, Maya. I love you.”
* * * *
Sunday morning, Maya and Richard sat looking at the screen on her laptop computer. She’d just pulled up her online e-mail account for the first time in five days and chuckled in surprise when she saw the number of e-mails in her inbox.
“Wow, someone’s been trying to get in touch with you. Do you normally have that many?”
“Not even close.”
She frowned when she saw they were almost all from Frank Reeves.
Richard shifted beside her and growled when he saw the same thing. “Is he usually this high maintenance? Are those business e-mails? He was your husband’s partner, right?”
“Yes, but this is my private address. He’s not even supposed to have it. And he shouldn’t need me for any business dealings. I sold our share to another broker.” She clicked on the first message. Irritation welled up in her at his overly-assumptive tone.
…when you’re ready to come back from this escapade you’re on with that redneck, I might be willing…