Heroes Are My Weakness(91)

Hannibal stuck his nose in the air and batted the mouse across the floor.

She glowered at him as she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal. When she was reasonably certain she’d recovered enough to move, she stomped back out into the night. She was not born to be an islander.

You’re doing a pretty good job of it, Leo said.

Your cheerleader routine is creeping me out, she told him.

You’re reprimanding a puppet, Dilly reminded her.

A puppet who had stopped acting like himself.

She made it to the generator and tried to remember what Booker had told her. As she began to go through the steps, she heard the faintest sound of an engine approaching from the main road. Who would be coming out here now? It might be someone with a medical emergency looking for Theo, except everyone would know by now that he’d left the island. And that Annie was here alone . . .

She abandoned the generator and raced inside to get the pistol from her nightstand. She wasn’t absolutely sure she could shoot anyone, but she wasn’t sure she couldn’t either.

When she returned to the darkened living room, she had the gun in hand. She stood off to the side of the front window and listened to pings of loose gravel. Headlights swept across the marsh. Whoever was driving didn’t seem to be making any effort to approach quietly. Maybe Theo had somehow managed to catch a middle-of-the-night ride from the mainland.

Keeping a firm grip on the pistol, she peered around the edge of the window and saw a pickup pull in front of the cottage and stop. A truck she recognized.

By the time she’d opened the front door, Barbara Rose was getting out, leaving the engine running. In the glow coming from the open driver’s door, Annie saw the hem of her pink pastel nightgown hanging from under her coat.

Barbara rushed toward her. Annie couldn’t see her expression, but she sensed her urgency. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Annie . . .” Barbara pressed her hand to her mouth. “It’s Theo . . .”

A spigot seemed to open in the front of Annie’s chest, draining her body of blood.

Barbara clutched Annie’s arm. “He was in an accident.”

Her grasp was the only thing holding Annie up.

“He’s in surgery,” Barbara said.

Not dead. Still alive.

“How—how do you know?”

“Someone from the hospital called. The reception was terrible. I don’t know if they tried to reach you first. I understood only half the message.” Barbara was as breathless as if she’d just run a long distance.

“But . . . He’s alive?”

“Yes. I got that much. But it’s serious.”

“Oh, God . . .” The words came from high in her throat. A prayer.

“I phoned Naomi.” Barbara was fighting tears. “She’ll take you over on the Ladyslipper.”

Barbara didn’t ask if Annie wanted to go to him, and Annie didn’t hesitate. There was no decision to make. She grabbed the first clothes she could find, and within minutes, they were barreling into town. Annie could live without the cottage, but the thought of the world without Theo was unbearable. He was everything a man should be. He had a brilliant mind and a sterling character. He was a man of conscience: trustworthy, intelligent, and caring. So caring he took on the demons of others as his own.

And she loved him for it.

She loved him. There it was. The thing she’d vowed would never happen. She loved Theo Harp. Not just his body or his face. Not just for sex or companionship. Definitely not for his money. She loved him for who he was. For his beautiful, tortured, kind soul. If he lived, she would stand by him. It made no difference if he were scarred, paralyzed, or brain damaged. She would be there for him.

Just let him live. Please, God, let him live.

The wharf lights were on when they reached the dock. Annie rushed toward Naomi, who was waiting next to the skiff that would take them out to the Ladyslipper. She was as grim-faced as Barbara. Wild, awful thoughts swirled through Annie’s head. They knew Theo was dying, and neither of them wanted to tell her.

Annie jumped in the skiff. Soon they were racing out of the harbor. Annie turned her back to the retreating shoreline.





Chapter Twenty


MY HUSBAND IS IN SURGERY.” The word tasted all wrong on Annie’s lips, but if she didn’t identify herself as family, the doctors wouldn’t talk to her. “Theo Harp.”

The woman behind the desk turned her attention to her computer. Annie squeezed the keys to the Honda Civic Naomi kept on the mainland, a much better car than the clunker she drove on the island. The woman looked up from her computer. “How do you spell the last name?”

“H-A-R-P. Like the instrument.”

“We don’t have anyone here by that name.”

“You do!” Annie cried. “He was in a serious accident. The hospital called. He’s in surgery.”

“Let me double-check.” The woman picked up her phone and turned her chair away.

Annie waited, her sense of dread growing by the second. Maybe he wasn’t in the computer records because he was already—

The woman set down the phone. “We have no record of him, ma’am. He’s not here.”

Annie wanted to yell at her, tell her that she should learn how to read. Instead she fumbled for her phone. “I’m calling the police.”