Honeysuckle Summer (The Sweet Magnolias #7)(35)

She nodded.

“How bad did it get?”

“Really bad.”

Carter looked as if he wanted to punch something, but he didn’t. Instead, his touch oh so gentle, he covered her hand with his. He just rested it on hers, offering comfort, but giving her the easy option of pulling away. “I’m sorry.”

His calm voice and compassionate tone seemed to unleash a torrent of words. She described the fights that began for no reason, the arguments that quickly escalated to violence, the unpredictability of it all, and the way it had eventually cut her off from the rest of the world.

“Most of the time I think I’ve put it behind me, but just now…” Her voice trailed off.

“My arm around you reminded you of him pinning you down,” he guessed.

“It just came over me out of the blue. I…I hadn’t felt like that since I moved in here. Suddenly all I could think about was how strong he’d been and how powerless it had made me feel,” she admitted. “I think that was worse than him hitting me, feeling as if there was nothing I could do to fight back.”

“You know that I would never hurt you, right?”

“In my head, I know that, or at least I want to believe it.”

“But after what you’ve gone through, you can’t be sure you can trust me or any other man,” he concluded.

She regarded him with a teary gaze. “You see what a mess I am? And your life is complicated enough. You should leave and never look back.”

He smiled at that. “Too late,” he said.

“It’s not,” she insisted. “You could walk away now and there’d be no harm, no foul. You could just chalk it up as one of those things. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“That would suggest I’m a quitter,” he said. “I’m not. How about you?”

“It would be easier if I were. It was easier when I thought things would never have to change.”

“Life is all about change and moving forward.”

“Even when it’s terrifying?”

“I think maybe that’s when it’s most important of all,” he said. He stood up. “Look, I really hate to leave you like this, but I need to get back on duty. Will you be okay? Should I call Sarah or someone else?”

“I’m fine. Go. Protect the world.”

He started toward the door, then turned back. “I really wish I’d been there to protect you,” he said softly. And then he was gone.

Raylene reached for a pillow and hugged it to her. Amazingly, just hearing those almost wistful, heartfelt words made her feel more cherished than she had been in years.



Carter wanted to break things. Seeing the terror in Raylene’s eyes, the look of utter devastation on her face when she’d gone back in time for just one heartbeat into the dark world of her marriage, made him sick to his stomach.

He’d dealt with his share of domestic violence cases in Columbia, even a couple right here in Serenity. He’d hauled men into jail, left women battered both physically and emotionally. While each case had mattered, none had cut him as deeply as imagining it happening to Raylene.

The first chance he got that evening, he got on the computer at headquarters and pulled up the records. Typically there was only a handful of calls—and no arrests—before the one that had sent Paul Hammond to jail and Raylene into the hospital with a miscarriage. Right now the man was locked behind bars, which was a good thing, because Carter felt an overwhelming desire to teach him a few lessons about picking on someone weaker and more vulnerable.

The bad news, though, was that the man’s sentence—way too short to begin with, in Carter’s opinion—was already running out. With time off for good behavior, he could be back on the streets in a matter of months, if not weeks. Carter wondered if Raylene knew that. He doubted it. It would be a while before the court would have to notify her of Paul’s impending release.

When Carter went off duty, he drove over to the radio station where Travis was still on the air. The door was locked, so he tapped on the studio window to get his attention. Travis held up a finger to indicate he’d be there in a minute, then put on another song and came to open the door.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” Carter asked.

“Sure. I’ll set up a few commercial-free music packages and we can talk.” He studied Carter. “Something on your mind?”

“I’ll get into it after you’ve taken care of business.”

Travis nodded. When the song ended, he hit the button for the microphone and chatted intimately with his audience, no doubt making every woman out there head for bed thinking she was on his mind.

When the next set of music was on, he turned back to Carter. “You want something to drink?” He gestured through a window in the studio to the antique red Coca-Cola cooler in the lobby. “That’s filled with soda. Sorry I don’t have anything stronger. You look as if you’ve had a tough day.”

“I’ve had better,” Carter admitted, waving off the offer of a soda.

“Then what’s up?”

Carter filled him in on the incident at the house earlier and told him what he’d found in the police records. “I assume you know about her background.”

Travis nodded. “Sarah filled me in.”