She began to speak and then stopped half a dozen times. She didn’t want to tell him too much about Preston. She still wanted to protect him if she could. She couldn’t bear to see him in a cell.
“They blame him for much he did not do?”
“And whathashe done?”
“Can you cease being a detective for a few hours?” she asked. She flicked her reins and picked up her horse’s pace.
He rode up beside her and kept his pace steady with hers. “I don’t think so but, today, for you, I’ll try.”
She felt her blood go warm. He was honest, and he sacrificed for her. “You have my thanks.”
He cut her a warm side-glance and then rode off.
She raced to catch up, but he laughed at her attempts, pushing his horse to bound over rocks and race as if it were running against the wind.
It felt wonderful to let her horse open up and run. She loved the wind snapping her hair behind her, making her squint to see and fight to breathe.
She gave a shout of victory when she passed his horse and won the race. They both laughed, out of breath, and dismounted to walk their horses slowly.
“Where did you learn to ride so well?” she asked him.
“My grandfather had a stable upstate. We used to visit every summer when I was a kid. Geoff was a better rider than I was. But I loved it. I’ve missed it.”
“You said you were adopted—”
“Yeah. By the Davenports. They were good people. I loved them very much. To me, they will always be my parents.”
“Why do you use Pendridge as your name?”
He shrugged. “They never changed it. I never asked my father why he didn’t. It always made me feel like I didn’t belong there. Deep down inside, you know?”
She nodded and swiped a tear from her eye. They had much in common. Perhaps he was her true love.
“What else do you miss?” she asked as they walked.
“I will miss my father eventually. He moved out to the west coast—New York is on the east coast—so I don’t see him too often. After my brother died, things between us changed.”
“Where is your mother?”
“She died of a heart attack twelve years ago.”
“That is very sad,” she told him, moved by his story. “Do you have other brothers?” When he shook his head, she continued, “One would think he would cherish you more deeply now that you are his only living son.”
“Not if he never considered me that to begin with. Besides, my brother died a hero. He ran into the burning buildings and was inside trying to save others when the tower collapsed. He’ll always be a hero. I can never compete with that.”
“You should not have to, Michael.”
“Yeah. You’re right. But even knowing it, I still wanted to prove myself. Until my third and final partner was caught taking bribes. It was assumed that I was doing it as well.”
“Were you?”
His flashing blue eyes lit on her for a moment. “No.”
She believed him.
His father obviously did not.
“My eleventh birthday was approaching,” she began, wanting to say something to him to soothe him, but not knowing what. She thought sharing a part of her, as he had done, was a good offering. “John and Rosie and the others had planned a large celebration. My parents both promised to come. Of course, no one expected Lizette to show up to something so trivial as someone else’s celebration. But I had fallen over a cliff, three months before. A cliff that, thankfully, ended underwater. I nearly perished, but I stayed awake, and with a broken leg and two broken ribs, I managed to swim to shore. I made it home, where I remained abed for three months. It was the worst time in my life. I hated being dependent and helpless. My parents knew I had had a difficult time. My father had spared no expense for my birthday celebration. He bought me the bracelet that I will never wear.”
