Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(67)

“I guess I can see that too,” he said thoughtfully. That way, at least you knew where you were going to end up. Where you eventually belonged.

They turned a corner—the very one he remembered hovering by with Zane when he was watching the service from afar and first saw her and Rowan break away from the others. As they did so and the tomb came into view, he and Savannah froze in midstep unison.

Two women stood in front of it, one tall and slender with dark hair, the other petite and blond. Like some terrible sense of déjà vu. The blonde’s hand was on the plaque, her head bowed, her shoulders shuddering.

“Oh, shit,” Savannah muttered at his side. “That’s Rowan and my mother.”

“Okay,” he said calmly. “What do you want to do?”

Her hand flexed in his grip. She looked uncertainly back the way they’d come, then back at the women. The flowers at their feet made splashes of soft color in the damp gray marble-and-cement world around them. Savannah’s bottom lip quivered, and he knew she wanted to go to them. He also knew that he wouldn’t be welcome.

“Listen, you go, all right? I’ll go back to the car,” he said.

“I don’t want you to go back to the car.” She almost sounded like an angry child not getting her way, but it was the most endearing damn thing he’d ever heard.

“Well, then, I’m with you. Whatever you want to do.” Maybe he would finally get that cussing or pummeling he’d always thought he deserved.

And suddenly the debate was a moot point, because one of the women called out, “Savannah?”

It was her mother, he saw, as she was staring in their direction, but Rowan’s head jerked around at the sound and she spied them as well.

Savannah drew a deep breath, tightening her grip on his hand. He was there to follow her lead, so when she began taking slow steps toward the women, he went too, steeling his spine for whatever they flung at him.

So far, they weren’t flinging anything. They only stared with open grief, and maybe a little disbelief at what they were seeing.

“Mom, Rowan,” Savannah said as they approached. Her mother was nothing less than an older version of her, lithe and beautiful despite the lines of grief on her face. She was dressed casually in jeans and a blue slicker. Rowan, well . . . she was a mess. But she grabbed Savannah in a hug all the same, and then her mother embraced her as well. “We wanted to come,” Savannah told them simply, and returned to Mike’s side. “We didn’t know you would be here. Michael, you’ve met Rowan. This is my mother, Regina.”

He didn’t know what the f*ck to do or say, because it damn sure wasn’t nice to meet her under these circumstances, and the only contact she most likely wanted to have with him was to spit in his face. So he settled for the truth. “I wanted to come and tell your family how sorry I am for your loss, Mrs. Dugas.”

Her slender fingers gripped the handle of her umbrella so hard the plastic creaked. Rowan only sniffled and looked away. “I appreciate that,” Savannah’s mother said at last with surprising graciousness, though he saw what it cost her. “We, um . . . we didn’t know you were in town.” Her gaze shifted to her daughter as she said that, consternation written across her features. If they had seen Savannah last night and she hadn’t mentioned his presence, obviously they thought she’d been holding out on them.

“He got in early this morning,” she explained. “I called him late, and he drove over from Houston.”

Mrs. Dugas’s finely drawn brows rose in her forehead. “That’s quite a drive, isn’t it?”

“Five hours, ma’am.” He shared a look with Savannah, taking her hand again, and for a moment nothing existed outside of the two of them. “But it was nothing. She needed me.”

“And you got here this morning? You drove all night?”

He nodded, looking her in the eyes as he said, “I would’ve walked it for her, if that’s what it took.”

Except for Savannah’s slight indrawn breath, silence settled for several seconds while her mother digested that. Even Rowan was looking at him oddly—actually looking at him, perhaps, for the very first time. “Thank you for being here for her, then. Rowan?” Mrs. Dugas reached over to take Rowan’s arm. “Let’s leave them alone.”

Rowan didn’t look at all happy about that, but she nodded all the same. Then, kissing her fingertips, she touched them briefly to Tommy’s name on the plaque. Mike stroked Savannah’s hand with his thumb when it seemed to tremble in his grip. He had to release it, though, because the other two women came in to hug her goodbye. Then they were leaving, walking out in the direction Mike and Savannah had come, Mrs. Dugas’s arm around Rowan’s shoulder.

“She’s not doing well at all,” Savannah said quietly as another mist began to fall. “I’m so worried about her. She’s pregnant. All these emotions, all this stress . . . they can’t be good for her or the baby, and it’s all my fault.”

“This probably didn’t help,” he said grimly. “I’m sorry. Bad idea.”

“No, not a bad idea. Just bad timing.” She looked up at him for a few moments, her eyes contemplating underneath the bill of her cap. “Maybe . . . maybe Zane could help, if he really is willing. I know I was against it initially. But that night was the happiest I’ve seen her since all of this happened.”