Songbird(28)

“Yes,” she said simply. “He won’t return.”

Taggert held out his arms, and she went willingly, burying her face against his chest.

“I don’t mind if you never want to sing to crowds again. Or go into the recording studio. But baby, you love to sing. It’s part of who you are.”

She stiffened and curled her fists, gathering his shirt tight in her grip.

“It’s part of who I was,” she said dully.

He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, wishing he knew what to say, what he could do to make it all better. It wasn’t that he had to hear her sing again, though he wanted it more than anything. Singing was just Emily. It had always been Emily. There was never a time she wasn’t humming a tune, plucking her old guitar or scribbling lyrics down on every scrap of paper she could find.

It hurt her not to sing. He knew it as much as he knew anything else. She’d never fully heal until she could put what happened to Sean behind her and embrace her gift again. Even if it was just for her and she never made a public appearance again.

His fist curled in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to make the bastard who’d done this to his family pay. Bleed. The irony was that he was out there. Free. While Taggert’s family suffered.

“Come inside. It’s time to eat, and you know Buck gets cranky when we keep him waiting.”

She glanced up, her lips twisting into a rueful smile. “Not going to lecture me on getting on with my life and not letting that bastard win?”

“Is that what Frank told you?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s right. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t change anything, Tagg. Do you understand that?”

The pleading in her voice tore at his heart.

He tugged her into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. For a long moment he just stood there, staring out over his land. His and Greer’s land. Sean’s land.

“I understand, Emmy, I do,” he finally said. “I know this can’t be rushed. It’s hard for me. I’m a guy. Guys want to fix things. I can’t fix this, and it’s killing me.”

He felt her smile against his chest.

“Don’t give up on me?”

He pulled away and nudged her chin up with his knuckle. “Never, baby. Do you get that? Greer and I aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”

Her eyes were wide and luminous, shining with a silken veil of tears. But her smile lit up his entire heart.

“I love you, Tagg. Do you have any idea how good it feels to be able to tell you that and for you to accept it?”

His throat swelled, threatening to shut down his ability to speak. He wasn’t sure what the hell he’d say to that anyway.

He kissed her instead. Clumsy. Desperate. Needy. He was all those things when it came to her. How was he ever supposed to pull it together when she shattered him with a simple word?

He held her close so that their breaths stuttered erratically over each other’s lips. His fingers trembled as he stroked her cheek, the tips tangling with the single strand of hair that refused to stay behind her ear.

“Let’s go eat,” he said, his voice cracking.

She smiled, kissed him again as if she knew just how hard it was for him to process the barrage of emotions, and then she pulled away, taking his hand as they entered the house.

“Everything all right?” Greer asked when they walked into the kitchen.

Taggert eyed his brother and gave him a short nod.

“What did Frank have to say?”

Emily shrugged. “You know what he wanted.”

“Did he come out and ask you to come back?”

Greer’s voice was mild, but Taggert detected a hint of…what, insecurity? Worry? He cocked an eyebrow in his brother’s direction, but Greer ignored him as he continued to stare intently at Emily.

Emily’s shoulders sagged. “No, but he didn’t have to. I knew what he wanted. He lectured me about hiding away from my destiny and then he pulled out the Sean card.”

Taggert tuned in. “Sean card? What the hell is that?”

“Yeah, the Sean-wouldn’t-want-you-to-live-this-way speech.”

“He’s right about that,” Greer said quietly. “The question is how long are you going to ignore what’s so clear to the rest of us?”

She shook her head and threw a bewildered look at Taggert as if expecting help from his quarter. Hell, Greer was dead-on, but she’d already been hit over the head during Frank’s visit. There was no reason to rehash it all.

“What do you want from me?” she asked helplessly.

Greer crossed the room, cupped her cheek and stared down at her with a fierceness that even had Taggert taking a mental step back.

“I want you to live, Emmy. I want you to be with me. Sean is gone. Do you understand that? He’s not coming back, and he’d be the last person to want you to keep grieving for him.”

Emily flinched as though Greer had struck her. Raw pain and rage flared in her eyes, and she wrenched away from his grasp.

“I get it, Greer. Believe me I do. I was there remember? I watched him die. I had his blood all over me. I’m not likely to forget that he’s gone. I don’t ever need you to remind me of that.”

She was furious. Her entire body trembled. Her hands shook, and she curled her fingers, raising her fists in what looked like a fighting stance.