At the alarm in her voice, he came running.
“It’s Raine!” she cried. “She’s at Henry’s. She’s hysterical, talking crazy—”
“Logan’s at the house. Tell him I’m on my way.”
Bailey didn’t waste time with a reply. Two minutes later the house came into view and she roared through the open gate. And stopped short, so short the seat belt snapped hard against her chest.
Logan and Stephanie. They stood between their two vehicles, embracing.
They sprang apart and looked guiltily her way. Logan’s expression became concerned. He was beside her in a flash. Opening the door, helping her out.
“Bailey, my God, what’s wrong?”
For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. “I went to Henry’s … I saw—”
“Uncle Henry’s?” Stephanie said, voice unnaturally high. “Have you remembered something?”
She shook her head. “Raine’s”—she sucked in a deep breath—“she’s there. She’s hysterical. I’m afraid she might try to—”
She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to; Logan understood. He started for the Porsche.
“I told Paul!” she called after him. “He’s on his way, too.”
Logan looked over his shoulder at Stephanie. “Keep an eye on her, would you? I’m starting to think I can’t let her out of my sight.”
They watched him go, then Stephanie turned to her. “Believe it or not, Raine has a highly developed sense of self-preservation. She’ll be fine.”
She must, Bailey thought. Otherwise, how could one survive in this family?
Bailey curved a hand protectively over her belly. Stephanie saw the movement and frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just winded.”
Stephanie cleared her throat. “I saw your face, when you got here. I hope you know that was nothing. Logan and I have been friends for a long time.”
“I was surprised, that’s all.”
“We passed each other on the road and—”
“I’m not giving it a second thought.”
“He was telling me how sorry he was about Uncle Henry.”
“I’m sorry, too, Steph.” Bailey caught her hands and squeezed them. “I miss him. And I’m so, so sorry I haven’t called—”
“I’m sorry I haven’t called you. Your head, does it hurt bad?”
Bailey instinctively reached up, touched the bandage. Suddenly realizing how much it did hurt, right now. “Not as much as yesterday, but I could use a Tylenol.”
She frowned. “They didn’t give you anything stronger?”
“They can’t because of—”
She stopped. Stephanie’s frown deepened. “What?”
She hesitated, then smiled. She couldn’t help herself. “I’m pregnant, Steph.”
For the blink of an eye, Stephanie just stared at her. As if stunned silent. Then she released a whoop of joy and hugged her. Bailey hugged her back. In moments they were both in tears.
“I’m so happy for you.”
“We’re keeping it quiet for now—”
“I won’t say a word.”
“I’m so sorry about Henry—”
“I’m sorry. Your accident … I should have called—”
“No, I should have.”
Stephanie stepped away, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I feel like this is all I’ve been doing. I need to stop.”
“You will. Give yourself time.”
Whatever Stephanie started to say was cut off by Tony sprinting through the back gate, ears and tongue flying.
“Tony!” Bailey cried, and knelt to greet him. He launched himself at her, knocking her onto her rear. In the next moment he was giving her big, slobbery kisses anywhere he could reach.
Laughing, she managed to get back on her feet, at which point he ran three circles around her, then took off after a butterfly.
“Surprise,” Stephanie said.
Bailey laughed again, using her sleeve to wipe her cheeks. “I’ve missed him.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I wondered if you’d like to keep him.”
“You mean, like forever?”
This time, Stephanie laughed. “Abbott Farm is his home. He’ll be happier here with you, unless you don’t—”
“I do. Yes, definitely.” Bailey linked their arms. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve really missed him.”
“Good.”
They crossed to the kitchen door, Tony at their heels. Bailey fixed them both a glass of water and they sat at the kitchen table. The sun filtered in from the courtyard, creating bright patches on the weathered cypress tabletop. Bailey trailed her fingers across one, enjoying the warmth.
“I heard you don’t remember what happened,” Stephanie said.
“From Billy Ray, no doubt.”
“I heard it from him first. But it’s all over Wholesome now. It’s true then?”
Bailey nodded and Stephanie went on. “He told me that you … that Uncle’s Henry’s blood was on your jeans.”
“He told me the same thing.”
Stephanie leaned forward. “Do you think you saw what happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you could have.” She reached across the table and caught Bailey’s hands. “You could have seen the shooter.”
“I could have, Steph, but I don’t think so.” She looked at their joined hands, then back up at her friend. “That’s why I went out there today. To see if I could make myself remember.”
“Bailey—” She hesitated, then began again. “I talked to you the day of the accident.”
“You did?”
“I called, asked if you could stop by and check on Henry. You said you were on your way to the doctor.”
Bailey couldn’t hide her excitement. “Did I say what doctor or why I was going?”
She shook her head. “I was working, so we weren’t on but a minute or two. You promised to stop by after your appointment, then call me later.”
“What time did we speak?”
“Around ten A.M.”
A timeline, Bailey thought. Maybe she could piece together what happened that way.
“And we didn’t speak again?”
“No.” She released Bailey’s hands and dropped hers to her lap. “I thought it was odd … that maybe you’d had bad news at the doctor’s, or maybe that you’d just forgotten about calling. Then I got busy giving riding lessons. Next thing I knew, the sheriff was at my door.”
Bailey searched her memory and came up blank.
“The police are releasing the body tomorrow. I’m planning the funeral for Wednesday.”