The only possible response was to reach over and bring her against him, to cover her mouth with his and show her that she wasn’t assuming at all. Or maybe she was, but that was all right, because he’d been assuming the exact same thing.
As for the rest, well…he figured they’d work it out as they went along.
20
The sunlight felt far too bright, far too merciless, for such a solemn occasion. Caitlin couldn’t help wondering how much hotter that same sun was down in Tucson, where Alex had gone home. But no, she shouldn’t be thinking about Alex right now. This was the time for the McAllisters to say goodbye to Roslyn. Never mind that Caitlin wanted Alex with her so badly, wanted to hang on to him and feel his reassuring arm around her waist as she made her last farewell to the lighthearted girl who had been both her cousin and her friend. He’d had to make his own goodbyes to his grandmother just the day before, and his family needed him with them to share their grief. Both he and Caitlin had realized their families wouldn’t understand the bond that had grown between them so quickly, would have thought them selfish to insist on being together when their clans needed them more. And so they’d reluctantly agreed to stay apart until things settled down, although every day away from him was its own kind of agony, its own measure of grief.
The McAllisters had gathered in the quiet corner of the Cottonwood cemetery where all the members of their clan were laid to rest, and stood quietly as the white coffin with its coverlet of pale pink roses and soft white lilies was lowered to the ground. Well, most of them were quiet. Cousin Lysette, Roslyn’s mother, was sobbing, handkerchief pressed to her mouth, and Roslyn’s sister Jenny was sniffling, her big blue-gray eyes — the eyes she’d shared with Roslyn — filled with tears. Standing next to her was her brother Adam, his arm around Mason’s waist as she looked on, her expression stricken. Caitlin somehow knew that Mason was thinking about how that could have been her own sister Danica being lowered to the hard reddish earth, and how she was selfishly glad that Danica had somehow been spared.
Caitlin didn’t really think that Mason was being selfish. At least one person had survived Matías’ hellish plans, so why shouldn’t be Mason be glad about that while at the same time grieving the young sister-in-law she’d lost?
Adam’s face was tight, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Caitlin could see his jaw working, but he obviously didn’t intend to let go of the tight rein he had on his emotions. He and Roslyn had always been close, closer than they were with their older sister Jenny, who was three years older, while Roslyn and Adam were barely a year apart.
Angela stepped forward and spoke quietly, talking about Roslyn’s joy for life, her wonderful voice, her amazing talent with music. And then Caitlin heard the sound of a guitar being plucked, accompanied by her cousin’s pure, clear soprano singing “In the Arms of the Angels,” and she realized someone must have found a recording Roslyn had made and was playing it now from some source she couldn’t quite see.
It was understanding that she’d never hear that voice again in real life, that she’d never see Roslyn’s big blue eyes dancing with laughter, or the way she’d toss her long honey-colored hair in that artfully artless manner of hers, that finally brought the tears to Caitlin’s own eyes. They streamed down her cheeks, and then it seemed everyone was weeping, mourning the loss of a girl who should never have been taken from them so young.
And if fury toward Matías Escobar burned in the hearts of some of the people around her, how could she blame them? The same fire burned in hers.
* * *
Since Alex wasn’t privy to the goings-on behind the scenes at the Tucson P.D. or the local district attorney’s office, he didn’t know exactly what went down to send Matías and his cronies to the front of the line when it came to them going to trial. Somehow, though, they were arraigned within a few days, with the courthouse date scheduled for only a week or so after that.
When he’d called Caitlin to give her the news, she seemed relieved but not particularly happy. He hesitated, unsure as to whether he should press her on the subject, but then he decided to go ahead and ask anyway. “What’s the matter? I thought you’d be glad to hear he’s on the fast track to life in prison.”
A long pause on her end. He wished he could see her face, but she didn’t have Skype installed on her computer, which she claimed was really underpowered, and so they were talking on their cell phones. She’d finally gotten hers replaced after she went home; there had never seemed to be any time to do it during those feverish few days they’d spent together.