Tears pricked his eyelids, and he sucked in a big breath to hold them back.
"Ethan, thank God you and Rachel are home," his mom said. She leaned up, cupped his cheek and kissed him even as she wiped tears from her own cheeks.
She reached for his hands and squeezed then pulled him toward the door.
"Nathan and Joe here?" Ethan asked as he ducked inside.
She shook her head. "No, they're helping Sam and Donovan out. Come in, sit down and let me look at you."
She parked him in a chair at the kitchen table and stood staring at him, all the love of a mother shining in her eyes.
"You look like hell," she scolded. Then she sank into a chair across from him and grasped his hands in hers. "How is she?"
He swallowed the knot in his throat. "She's okay. I left her sleeping. Garrett's there."
"How is she really?" she asked softly.
He closed his eyes. "She's fragile, Ma. Those bastards . . . those bastards kept her prisoner for a year. A year. A year where she needed me, where she went through God knows what."
He choked back a sob, ashamed to be breaking down in front of his mother, for God's sake.
She rose and he was back in her arms, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, and he turned into her as he'd done when he was a child, his grief muffled by her shirt.
"You should have come sooner," she soothed. "This is too much for you to stand up under alone, son. There are so many of us who will help you, but you have to let us."
"She needs me," he said hoarsely. "I failed her already. I won't do it again."
"Are you failing her by taking a moment to see the mother who is worried sick over you while Garrett watches over her?"
"He called you."
"Yes, he said you were coming. And it's about time. Did you think we'd storm the castle or not understand if you couldn't bring her to us yet? We're so worried for you both, Ethan. I want to see her so bad I hurt. I want to hold her in my arms again. I want to see my daughter. But I can wait."
"Ethan, you're home."
Ethan looked up, then hastily away, as his father entered the kitchen. His emotional outburst was bad enough in front of his mom, but to break down in front of his father was more than he could stand.
That thought fled the moment his father hauled him up and crushed him in his beefy embrace. His father wept openly, his big body shaking convulsively as great sobs tore out of his chest.
"Thank God, thank God you're home. Your mother and I were so worried. And then Sam and Van came home alone. You'll never know what it was like seeing them come in the door so dirty and haggard and not seeing you and Garrett. It was as bad as the day they told us Rachel died."
"I'm sorry," Ethan said as he cupped the back of his father's head. "I never meant to scare you or Ma. But we couldn't tell you. Not until we were sure. I'd never get your hopes up like that."
"So it's really her? She's home?" his dad asked hoarsely.
"She's home," Ethan said, allowing the joy of that statement to flood his chest.
Now his mom's eyes filled with tears again, and she raised her shaking hands to her face.
"Bring her to us soon, Ethan. Dinner. Just like old times. We won't push her, I swear. Just let us see her. Everyone loves her so much."
Ethan wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and reached for her hand. "I will, Ma. Sunday, okay? Sunday dinner just like old times. The family will be together again."
"Praise God," she breathed out. "Oh, Ethan, it's a miracle. You've been given such a precious gift."
He smiled at her, touching her damp cheek with his fingers. "I know. I won't screw it up this time."
She frowned at that, but he turned to his father before she could question his meaning.
"I'm really sorry we scared you. Things happened so fast. If it was Rachel, we had to get in there fast, and if it wasn't, we didn't want you to go through the loss all over again."
"It's okay, son. The important thing is my boys and my daughter are home again where they belong. I can't ask for more than that."
"Let me fix you something to eat," Marlene said as she bustled around the counter toward the fridge. "You can take leftovers home for Rachel."
He hedged, checking his watch. He'd already been gone half an hour.
"She'll be fine with Garrett," his mom said in a quiet, understanding voice. "You need a break, Ethan. Let me feed you. You probably haven't eaten a thing I've sent over since you've been home."
"When have I ever turned down your cooking, Ma?"
She smiled when he cracked a grin.
"That's better. Now sit. Talk to your father while I whip up supper. Garrett will call if she needs you and you can be home in less than five minutes."
THE dream was the same. Ethan was angry, his features drawn into a dark cloud. Despair washed over her in waves, and a feeling of helplessness assaulted her. More powerful than her fear of her captors. No, that was in the past. Now she faced something worse.
Was it a nightmare? Some terrible image fueled by her fears and insecurities, or was she remembering more about her life with Ethan?
She twisted, held captive to her dreams. A tortured moan escaped her over and over, and all she could think was He doesn't love you. It's not real.
"Rachel. Rachel. Wake up, sweet pea. You're dreaming. Come back to me."
She shrank away from the soft croon, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked rapidly as Garrett's face came into view. Relief staggered her, and she felt sick that she was relieved it wasn't Ethan kneeling next to the couch.
She grabbed at his hand and clutched tightly, her heart threatening to beat right out of her chest.
"Hey, are you okay?"
She nodded but she kept her fingers wrapped tight around his hands as she struggled to sit up.
Garrett helped her and then slid onto the couch to sit next to her, his arm hung loosely around her shoulders.
"Ethan's over at Mom's, but he'll be back soon. I can call him if you need him."
She shook her head. "No. I'm fine. Really."
"Can I get you something? You hungry?"
"Water."
He rose and with a concerned look in her direction walked into the kitchen. A few seconds later he returned with a glass of water. She took it from his outstretched hand and drank thirstily.
After a few moments some of the blackness of her dreams receded, and she could breathe easier. She held the glass in both palms and rested the bottom on her knee as she stared straight ahead, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.
"Rachel? Are you sure you're all right? That seemed like a really bad dream."
Her mouth lifted in a half smile. Then she glanced over at him, easing a little more at the worry in his eyes.
"Tell me about Ethan," she said softly.
Garrett's brows came together in confusion.
"About me and Ethan," she corrected. "Were we happy? Did he . . . did he love me?"
Garrett sucked in a deep breath and then he leaned back on the couch. He held out his arms to her. "Come here."
She went willingly, seeking his comfort, wanting the truth but also hoping it eased her mind.
When she was settled in the crook of his arm, he nudged her head until it was pillowed on his shoulder.
"Ethan is a stubborn son of a bitch. There was never a doubt about that. He's butted heads with every one of us. You included. But he loved-loves-you. Don't ever doubt that. You were just right for him. No other way to put it. You were calm when he had the tendency to get all worked up over things. You centered him."
"My nightmare was about us," she admitted. "In it he was angry. Really angry. I don't know about what. But I was so . . . afraid. Scared. Not that he'd hurt me but that he didn't love me, that he didn't want me. Why would I dream something like that?"
He tightened his hold on her and kissed the top of her head. "You're scared, sweet pea. We're a bunch of strangers to you. You're suddenly thrust back into a world you can't remember. I can only imagine how frightening that has to be. I'd be amazed if you weren't having nightmares about all of us."
She sighed, her chest caving a little in relief. He made so much sense.
"But there's something you need to know," he continued. "Ethan was devastated when he lost you. Not a day has passed that he hasn't mourned for you. He damn sure didn't stop loving you. He's scared too, Rachel. Scared out of his mind that he'll do or say the wrong thing, that he'll hurt you or that, God forbid, he'll lose you again."
"I'm not the only one hurting," she murmured.