Songbird: A Linger Story Read online

  She’d hurt herself. He’d never forget the sounds she made. He’d heard her all the way from the house, and the raw edge of grief mixed with her cries had sent a chill down his spine.

  “Here, put this on,” he urged. “I’ll have Buck make you some soup. It’ll feel good on your throat.”

  She reacted listlessly, as if it took all her strength to shrug out of the towel. He helped her into the shirt and quickly buttoned it up.

  Taggert walked in and Greer looked up to see distress in his older brother’s eyes. Tagg wanted to say something. Greer could see it. He was battling with himself, not knowing whether it was the time.

  Greer shook his head, hoping Taggert got the message. Whatever it was could wait. Emily was at her end. There was no way she could process anything Tagg had to say anyway.

  Greer tucked Emily into bed, pulling the covers up so she would be warm. She was still crying, her shoulders shaking, but no sound escaped from her lips. He leaned down to kiss her and whispered a silent prayer that she would make it out of this.

  When he stood, Taggert was still standing by the door, his hand rubbing a stressed path through his hair. Greer motioned him out of the bedroom, and the two met in the hall.

  “She’s blaming herself,” Taggert said. “Goddamn it, Greer. She lost it when I told her that if I’d never sent her away Sean would still be alive. I did this to her. She went to pieces at his grave, and she apologized to me. Said it was her fault, not mine.”

  Greer blew out a long breath. “It had to happen, Tagg. Whatever the reason for it, she couldn’t keep on in denial, just existing day to day like some damn ghost. We’ll figure out why she blames herself later. Right now I’m just glad she’s finally letting herself cry.”

  “Why is it that I’m always the one to hurt her?”

  The self-condemnation in Taggert’s voice was strong, and as much as he didn’t like the idea of his brother in pain, Greer’s focus was Emily.

  He put a hand on Taggert’s shoulder. “Put it away, man. You’re not doing yourself or her any good. She needs us both right now. I’m going to go down and get her some soup. She’s cried herself hoarse.”

  “I’ll stay with her until you get back,” Taggert said as he turned back to Emily’s door.

  Chapter Six

  Crying females had always made Taggert uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a woman pouting or crying because she hadn’t gotten her way. It wasn’t an effort at manipulation or an upset that she’d get over in a few minutes.

  He was completely and utterly baffled as to how to help her. Should he hold her? Touch her? Not touch her?

  Did he tell her he loved her—had always loved her—or would that just pile more on her when she couldn’t stand up under what she already bore?

  He stood by her bed, running his hand through his hair for the tenth time. Christ, but there weren’t rule books for these situations. What if he did or said the wrong thing?

  In the end, the decision was made for him.

  Emily turned her face and stared up at him, the silent trails down her cheeks ripping his heart right out of his chest.

  She tried to talk, but it came out in a hoarse cough. Instead she held up her hand.

  He grasped her trembling fingers and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as he slid onto the bed beside her.

  With a muted, strangled sob, she turned into him, clutching him as if he were her lifeline. And maybe in a way he was.

  “It’s going to be all right, Emmy,” he whispered against her hair. “I swear it.”

  She shook and fluttered against him like a wounded butterfly. He eased one arm underneath her then pulled her closer to his body as he leaned back against the pillows.

  Her mouth worked against his chest, and he knew she was trying to talk again. After the horrible screams that had assaulted his ears, he couldn’t imagine she had anything left.

  “Shhh,” he said as he rocked her back and forth. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, making little circles at her shoulder blades then pressing firmly against her spine. “Don’t talk. Give your voice a rest, Songbird.”

  She shuddered against him and turned her wet cheek into his throat as if seeking more of him, his warmth and strength. It was all he had to offer her right now, and he couldn’t deny her anything.

  His mouth found her temple and he nuzzled her hair back before kissing her soft, pale skin.

  “I just want you to listen to me, Emmy. I love you. I let you go once. I’m not letting you go again.”

  She went very still against him and slowly raised her head, her luminous blue eyes wide as she stared back at him.

  “I’m not saying I have everything figured out. I think we have a lot of hard work ahead of us. But I need you to know that I’m not walking away this time.”

  A sound at the door turned Taggert sharply away. Guilt crept over his shoulders, and he angrily shook it off. Greer was standing there, his expression indecipherable as he held a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of tea.

  Nothing Taggert had said would surprise Greer, but Taggert still felt like he was sneaking one over. And that pissed him off.

  Greer carried the tray to the bed, and Taggert touched Emily’s cheek, returning her gaze to him.

  “Sit up for us and eat some soup. You don’t have to take it all, but it’ll make your throat feel better.”

  She pushed against him and struggled upward. He helped her until she was sitting up in bed, then he plumped the pillows behind her back to give her support.

  Greer slid onto the bed on her other side and settled the tray over her lap.

  “Eat up,” he said gently.

  He glanced briefly over at Taggert, but Taggert didn’t see any judgment or condemnation in his brother’s eyes. Just concern for Emmy.

  Greer reached out and caught a tendril of her hair that fell forward as she bent to blow on a spoonful of soup. He tucked it behind her ear and trailed a fingertip over her cheekbone.

  She raised her head slowly to stare at him, and Taggert sucked in his breath at the multitude of emotions expressed in her gaze.

  She was searching for answers that Greer hadn’t supplied so far. There was fear and uncertainty cast deep in the shadows of her eyes.

  Greer sighed. “Not now, Emmy. Not here. Neither one of us is up for what I have to say.”

  Her gaze skirted sideways to Taggert. His first instinct was to rush in, talk for Greer, state his case since he knew damn well what his brother wanted, what he felt for Emily. Anything to make her smile again or at least erase some of the pain from her eyes.

  But he kept silent because he knew this was huge. This wasn’t just about him and Emily. It was about him, Emily and Greer.

  Greer just better hurry the fuck up.

  The two brothers sat in silence while Emily ate her soup. When she was finished, she leaned back against the pillows with a weary sigh. The tears that had stopped briefly while she ate slipped like silver strands over the hollows of her cheeks.

  The discomfort in Taggert’s chest grew until it was a physical ache. He looked to Greer for help, but his brother just quietly collected the tray and headed for the door.

  Anger tightened Taggert’s features, and he battled the urge to go after Greer and ask him what the hell his problem was. But he didn’t want to leave Emily. Or was that what Greer was trying to tell him? That they should leave Emily alone?

  Jesus Christ, now he was looking to his younger brother for guidance?

  He felt a million years old. Too old for Emily, too old to feel so helpless.

  Fatigue whispered through his veins, mixing with sorrow. He loved Emily, had missed her, but he missed Sean too. Somehow, he’d imagined that one day Emily and Sean would come back home even though he’d resigned himself to never having Emily as anything more than a sister-in-law. As much as he wanted Emily, he’d trade a future with her to have his brother back, because then Emily would smile again.

  He glanced down at Emily to see her eyelashes
flutter and finally come to rest on the dark smudges beneath her eyes. She looked beautiful and delicate, so very fragile that he was afraid to touch her for fear she’d shatter.

  Carefully shifting his weight so as not to disturb her, he moved further down the bed and put his arm over her waist. She responded to his touch by snuggling into him, her cheek nuzzling his chest. Her head bumped his chin as she sought to get closer, and finally she tucked herself into the curve of his body like a cat seeking warmth.

  He held her like that for the longest time, listening to the soft sounds of her distress even as she slept. He caressed and held her, offering her comfort the only way he knew how. By being here.

  When finally she quieted, he melted into the bed in exhaustion. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been through the entire ordeal or how tightly he was wound.

  Her even breathing whispered across his chest, and he touched her cheek to find that while it was still damp, there were no new tears. Maybe she’d finally cried herself out.

  He rested there for a while, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Oh, he’d held her plenty of times over the years, but never this way. He’d never wanted her to guess the extent of his feelings, and then when she’d married Sean, he’d stopped touching her at all beyond a casual kiss on the cheek the few times they’d seen each other.

  Where was Greer? It wasn’t like him to bolt. He was the levelheaded one in the Donovan family. Taggert and Sean were the two short fuses, quick to blow and quick to get over it. Greer…he liked to brood. Which was probably what he was doing now.

  Taggert sighed and eased away from Emily. She didn’t even flinch when he got up. He tiptoed across the floor and let himself out of her bedroom to go in search of Greer.

  ***

  Greer shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at his brother’s grave. He hadn’t been out to visit in a while. Maybe he’d been as much in denial as Emily had. Seeing her shattered and scattered to the wind brought back the grief he’d tried to bury. Now it felt like a festering wound about to open.

  It had always been the four of them. Looking back, he couldn’t even see when it had started to unravel. He hadn’t opened his eyes to the possibility of Emily marrying, wanting a family. A career. Somehow he’d just taken for granted that she’d always be here, a part of his life, not changing.

  He shook his head at his stupidity. If only he could have that day back again. If he’d only had some warning, some idea of what Emily was thinking—feeling.

  After he and Taggert had sent her away… He flinched and tightened his lips in a line. Sent away implied some calm, civilized action. They’d rejected her, and she’d fled in tears. The next thing he knew, Sean and Emily had eloped and she’d signed a recording contract that would take her away from Montana—and him and Taggert.

  Where had it all gone so terribly wrong?

  “You don’t come out here often.”

  Greer turned to see his brother standing a few feet away, his gaze resting on Sean’s grave.

  “How would you know?”

  “Because I do come out here,” Taggert said. “Usually once a day.”

  “This is such a mess. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to get beyond my own anger and grief to help Emily with hers.”

  “I miss him. I miss them both,” Taggert said as he moved closer to Greer.

  “They should have been able to feel like they could come home. We took that away from them. I thought by ignoring the issue, it would go away.”

  Taggert remained silent, his lips pinched.

  “The four of us were family,” Greer said painfully. “Sean accepted… He accepted what you and I didn’t. That Emily loved us. We failed her, and now to find out she blames herself for Sean’s death. It’s more than I can stand, Tagg. I’ve got to find out why, even if it makes her face everything that hurts her the most. She can’t go on like this, carrying so much guilt that she buckles under the weight. None of us can. We’ve got to face this…what’s between us and what was. Nothing can ever be right again until Sean is laid to rest.”

  “I know,” Taggert said quietly. He turned to look at Greer and then back again at the grave. “What do we do?”

  Greer blew out his breath and tugged one of his hands free of his pocket. “I know you think I’m a cold son of a bitch.”

  Taggert made a sound of surprise.

  “I mean with Emily. I let you comfort her. I made her some soup then split.”

  Taggert raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement but didn’t say anything as he stared back at his brother.

  “You know what I regret?” Greer looked down at one scuffed boot for a moment before he refocused on the hillside, looking beyond the neat graves to the mountains in the distance. “That day that Emily came to see us. I could tell she was upset about something. But all I wanted to do was take her in my arms, haul her up to my bedroom and make love to her. I felt like a first-class jerk. She was young. I’d sworn to never act on my feelings beyond friendship. I had this idea that I was being noble and self-sacrificing.” He snorted. “What a crock of bullshit. I gave her that pompous speech about how she was mistaking friendship for something else and then I proceeded to really patronize her by saying I’d always love her but she was too mixed-up about her feelings to possibly know her mind.”

  He shook his head bitterly.

  “Even now, all I can think of is taking her to bed and showing her just how much I love her. She’s hurt, she’s grieving, and I can’t get close to her without wanting to make love to her. How big of a bastard does that make me?”

  “Christ, if you’re asking my blessing,” Taggert said in disgust.

  Greer clenched his fingers into fists and turned on Taggert. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for any goddamn favors.”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Taggert said wearily. “This is one big goddamn mess. I don’t have the answers. I never did or we wouldn’t be standing here over Sean’s grave arguing and feeling like the two biggest dumbasses this side of the Mississippi.”

  “Agreed,” Greer clipped out. “Fuck me but I don’t know what to do.”

  Taggert toed a line in the soil with the tip of his boot then kicked up a clump of the grass. “Seems to me like you ought to at least talk to Emily. Let her know your feelings and all that bullshit. Jesus, this is a hell of a conversation to be having with my younger brother. You know what I mean, though. Talk to her, for fuck’s sake. We’ve got a second chance here. Let’s not blow it.”

  “She loved Sean,” Greer said quietly. He turned to stare at Taggert, needing his confidence. “What if what she felt for us was girlish infatuation, what we feared she felt at the time? Or what if her love died when we pushed her away? She and Sean were happy. I don’t believe for a minute he was some substitute for what she couldn’t have.”

  “She loved…loves us all,” Taggert said. “It seems simple enough now, though back then it sounded so farfetched.”

  “Or maybe we just want to believe it now.”

  “Look, believe what you want to believe,” Taggert said impatiently. “I’m not going to try and convince you. I get that you’re worried. I get that you’re having second thoughts now that she’s here and we’re not talking about abstracts and possibilities. But if you love her—if you want her—how the fuck can you stand by and do nothing?”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It is simple. Pull your head out of your ass, for God’s sake.”

  Greer chuckled, suddenly feeling a little lighter. “You do have a way with words, Tagg.”

  “Well Christ, you’re getting positively moody on me.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. I’m a dumbass.”

  For a moment, his gaze flickered back to Sean’s grave, and a spasm of pain squeezed his heart.

  “I miss him, man,” he said softly.

  Taggert followed his gaze to the headstone, his expression sad. “I miss him too. He was too young to die.”

  Chapter Seven
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  Emily woke in darkness, her senses more alert than they’d been in a long time. For a moment she just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, tears crowding her eyes. How easily they came now when before they’d been locked behind an impenetrable barrier.

  Strangely, she didn’t hurt quite as much as she had. In some ways she supposed it had been like cutting a festering sore to allow the infection to drain away. Poison. It had built in her system until she’d been staggered by her grief and pain.

  She turned her head, seeking confirmation of the time, and gasped when she saw a dark outline by the window. He turned when he heard her, and it was then she saw it was Greer, pale moonlight spilling over his solemn features.

  “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said quietly.

  She couldn’t very well say he hadn’t since her heart still pounded like a jackhammer.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She rubbed her throat when the words came out in a barely audible croak. She’d really done a number on her voice. Frank would have had a heart attack if he could hear her.

  Her hand froze as she thought about Frank—and the fact she hadn’t talked to him in nearly a year. She’d been too busy running.

  Greer flipped the lamp on, illuminating the bed in its soft glow. He sat on the edge and turned, sliding one knee onto the mattress as he stared down at her.

  She swallowed nervously and wrung her fingers until they were numb. He looked so serious. So grave. This was the first time she’d really faced him since that day four years ago when she’d blurted out her feelings. No wonder he and Taggert had reacted the way they did. It hadn’t been well done of her at all. Nearly hysterical after the confrontation with her father, she’d felt as though her options had run out.

  How many times had she wished she could have that day back?

  Greer picked up her ravaged fingers and brought them to his lips. He kissed each one, his eyes glowing vibrantly in the light.

  She watched in fascination at the tenderness he displayed, at the regard that went beyond simple affection for a girl he once knew. For a sister-in-law.