Wild Horses

Chapter Twenty-Seven

After they tucked Suzy in that night, Emma and Jim fell across their bed, too exhausted to undress. And in Emma's case, too exhausted to confront Jim with the remnants of the letter he thought he had burned. Too exhausted to tell him she knew he'd lied to her.

He turned toward her, slipping the short sleeve of her peasant blouse off her shoulder. 

She stopped him. "I'm all in tonight. And look at your poor hand." She lifted his bandaged palm to her lips.

With a sigh, he stood and headed toward the bathroom, scattering clothes along the way. For once, she didn't reprove him. Why complain about discarded shoes and socks, shirt and trousers, when their whole lives were strewn with lies?

No matter what Williamson thought, no matter even what Bryan Jennings thought, Sherman must be the real demon behind today's bombing. And he was a demon she had unleashed. Still, she couldn't shake the thought that there was something besides Sherman on Jim's mind, something that made him so strange and distant, something he wouldn't confide to her. 

Did he think she was the one behind all this, that she was luring Sherman to do these horrible things? He couldn't believe that. But hadn't she doubted Jim? Why should she be surprised if he thought she wasn't above suspicion herself?

She turned restlessly, her baby bump already making her feel uncomfortable when she lay on her stomach.

And why the money transfers? Jim, a terrorist? He was the gentlest soul she'd ever met. But why wouldn't he explain? And why had he lied about the letter? 

She sat, drawing her knees up to support her increasing weight. Jim had first said the letter was the obituary of Mrs. Kotay, the mother of Jim's college friend. The scraps she put together supported that story. But when Jim returned from Vista -- or wherever he had been -- he claimed to have been visiting Mrs. Kotay. Unless the old lady was miraculously resurrected, Emma thought grimly, there must have been more to the letter than Jim told her. Most likely something Sherman was involved in. But what could Sherman possibly be holding over Jim's head? Even the lie about their marriage wouldn't be enough to give him the power to make Jim overlook his increasing violence.

She flopped back onto the mattress. The only thing she could be sure of was that Jim was in danger, and in danger from Sherman. Whether he trusted her or not, he was in danger every minute they were together. Even Suzy wouldn't be safe as long as she was near Jim, drawing Sherman's attention to them all.

The sound of running water rippled through the half-open bathroom door. It was so simple. All she had to do to protect the man she loved was to leave him. All she had to do was break his heart, and hers. She got up, changed into her nightgown, and slipped between the sheets, feigning sleep as he returned to bed.