“Sara?” Lincoln whispered close to her. “Talk to me.”
The pastor droned on about God and how her husband was now with Him and it angered her. Sara’s cheeks flushed and her hands fisted at her sides. She didn’t want to talk to Lincoln. Sara couldn’t speak. If she said one single word, she’d collapse, break. But as the pastor kept talking like he’d known her husband, like he knew God on a personal level and had tea with Him and knew, one hundred percent, that her husband would also be having tea with Him for all time henceforth, she bit her tongue to keep in a scream and tasted blood.
Lincoln put his arm around her shoulders, his scent coming with it, and said into her hair, “If you need to leave, we’ll leave.”
Her lip began to wobble. She was cracking. Stop talking, Lincoln. The fury seeped out of her as quickly as it had appeared and the splinter deepened.
“Everyone will understand if you need to leave and if they don’t, too bad for them. Say the word, Sara, and I’ll take you away from this. Cole would understand.”
Why didn’t he stop talking? Dizziness hit her and Sara stumbled back, Lincoln catching her before she landed. The pastor paused as he looked at her, his lips almost immediately moving again. He was a kind-faced man with balding black hair and glasses. Sara tried to focus on him and what he was saying; anything to center her, but his voice was muffled and far away. She shook her head and another wave of lightheadedness struck her.
“Talk to me,” Lincoln repeated in a voice low with urgency.
Their eyes met, his glazed with concern. Sara had to stay. For him. She owed her husband that. Sara opened her mouth, trying to talk around the dryness of her throat, trying not to break in front of everyone. Lincoln’s eyebrows lowered as he waited, never taking his eyes from her face.
“I’ll…stay. I need to,” she whispered, her face burning as eyes turned her way.
“Sure?”
She nodded.
Lincoln kept her plastered to his side, his arm strong and steady and enough to keep her standing. Somehow she got through it. Somehow she didn’t scream or break or collapse. Sara’s body trembled as the casket covered in white roses was lowered into the ground, her eyes filling with hot tears. She blinked and they fell to her cool cheeks, warming them.
People were leaving. She watched, bleary-eyed, as Lincoln’s father finally pulled his wife away and headed for their vehicle. Sara stared at the hole in the ground that held her husband’s body and would be his home from now on. Searing hot pain lashed through her heart, a fiery whip of devastation. What if she crawled into the hole with him? Sara would if it meant she’d be closer to him. She could close her eyes and forever sleep.
“You lied to me,” she whispered, dashing a hand across her face to make room for more tears. “You said you’d never leave me.” Sara’s voice cracked. “But you did. You left me.”
A movement caught her eye and she looked up from the black hole. Lincoln stood on the other side of it, tight-jawed. He wore a gray suit that matched the shade of his eyes and a red tie. His hair was in need of another cut, the waves taking over and unruly once more. One lock of dark brown hair hung on his forehead, giving him a boyish look.
As she stared at him, he morphed into her husband. His build turned rangier, he shortened a few inches in height, and his eyes were a piercing blue. “I didn’t lie to you, Sara.”
She inhaled sharply as she lost her balance, careening dangerously close to the edge of earth that led to the grave. Lincoln swore and raced toward her, gathering her in his arms and roughly pulling her back.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
Sara studied his features. It was Lincoln. Gray eyes, sharp features, wavy hair. Relief and disappointment warred inside her, and she went weak in his arms. “What did you say? When you were over there?”
“What? I didn’t say anything. I watched you almost fall into a grave and thought I’d better rescue you.”
She waited for Lincoln to admit he’d spoken the words she’d heard and seen her deceased husband say. Only he didn’t.
“I’m losing my mind,” she said softly.
“I won’t argue with you there.”
Sara gave him a sharp look.
The smile that flashed across his lips was thin and didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re all a little crazy at times, Sara. Sometimes that’s the only way to deal with life.”
Lincoln began to walk away, his back stiff, his strides precise as he took himself farther and farther away from where his brother’s body would reside for all eternity.
***