Kyle reached over and took her hand, squeezing reassuringly.
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said quietly.
She smiled at him. Really smiled, and he seemed delighted.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Forgive the corny thing I’m about to say, but it has truly been an honor to know you, Honor Cambridge.”
She squeezed his hand back and then drew in a deep cleansing breath, the wheeze floating away as her lungs opened fully, allowing her to breathe easy once more.
“Let’s do this,” she said.
CHAPTER 43
CYNTHIA Cambridge threw up her hands, despair radiating from her eyes as she faced her family—minus Honor, who was holed up in the library, her sanctuary. Everyone had gathered. Brad had come from work, no questions asked. Keith had secured release from fall training from his team the minute he’d received the news of Honor’s return home, and he had yet to return. Tate and Scott owned multiple local businesses and both made their homes nearby so they had been there in minutes. Mandie, like Keith, had yet to return to her job.
They all looked to their mother—wife—worry tight in their chests. Cynthia looked worn and haggard, so much grief in her expression that they all feared the worst.
“This has to end,” Cynthia said, near tears.
Mike, her husband, pulled his wife into his arms, his distress as great as hers, though he held it tightly reined because he sensed just how close his beloved wife was to her breaking point.
“She’s not getting better. She’s sick. She won’t talk about it—anything.”
“We knew this wouldn’t be easy, Mom,” Brad, her oldest son, said.
He was in uniform and had come when his father had called, telling him he was needed at home. His deputies could hold down the fort in his absence. Family—his sister—was more important.
“She’s recovering physically,” Tate said cautiously. “A breeze would have knocked her over when she first came back. She’s gained weight. She’s eating.”
“I agree with Mom,” Mandie said firmly. “She’s recovering from her wounds, her injuries. In fact, you can barely see them. Except her wrists,” she added with a frown.
The Marine who’d brought Honor home to them had said that her wrists and ankles had been so tightly manacled that the metal had to be pried from her flesh. But there were underlying wounds. Cuts that had been stitched. They didn’t know, but they suspected . . . However, no one ever mentioned it because it meant acknowledging just how bad it must have been for Honor to have tried to take her own life. And it was more than they could bear to have it confirmed that she’d been so desperate as to try to end her misery.
“But she is sick,” Mandie continued. “Something’s wrong with her. She can’t keep anything down. She’s pale and so fragile. I’m worried. Really worried. I think we should take her to the doctor.”
Her father sighed. Honor had refused to go back to the doctor after the preliminary examinations, treatments and vitamin regimen she’d been placed on. She’d refused counseling, even though all of them urged her to talk to someone, because she wasn’t talking to them. And if something didn’t give soon, she was going to shatter, and he wasn’t sure they’d get her back this time. If his wife and daughter planned to take Honor to the doctor, they were going to have one hell of a fight on their hands.
“We’ve all been careful with Honor. Maybe too careful,” Cynthia acknowledged. “But now we have to present a united front and give her no choice. Mandie and I are taking her to the doctor. I’ve already called the clinic, and they’ll see her today.”
“And you wanted us here for the extra muscle,” Keith said wryly.
“No. For support,” his mother corrected. “We love her and I refuse to let her waste away into nothing. She may hate me, but at least she’ll be alive to do it.”
“I will never hate you, Mom,” Honor said quietly from the doorway of the kitchen.
They had been so absorbed in their discussion and concern, they hadn’t heard Honor enter the kitchen.
“I’m sorry I’ve worried you. All of you,” she added, sweeping her glance over each family member, sorrow and apology bright in her eyes. “If going to the doctor will ease your worry, then I’ll go. I’m sure it’s just a stomach bug or something. After everything else I’ve had happen, this hasn’t even registered on my radar,” she said honestly.
Brad’s features darkened into a mask of hatred at the mention of all his sister had suffered. He was the sheriff, sworn to uphold the law and seek justice. By the book. But by all that was holy, if he could have gotten his hands on the bastards who’d tortured Honor, he’d have killed them in cold blood and suffered absolutely no remorse.
“I’m going too,” Mandie said, sliding her arm through Honor’s and then offering her sister an affectionate squeeze. “No way I’d leave you to Mom’s mercy alone. She can be ruthless. She’ll probably have the poor doctor stammering his way through the exam.”
Honor smiled. Mandie could defuse any situation with her wit and humor. It was one of the many reasons she loved her sister so dearly. She loved them all, and she realized, to her shame, that she wasn’t the only one suffering. She’d been selfish and self-absorbed while her family were clearly at their wit’s end.
“I am sorry,” Honor said, sincerity ringing in her voice. “I didn’t mean to be such a burden to you all and worry you so much. I’ve been selfish.”