The sweet smell of pancakes dominated the room, making his mouth water.
“Right this way,” Jesse said, setting down a heavy plate in front of him. “You need help with that?”
Gage wanted to growl. What was Jesse offering to do? Feed it to him like an infant.
But he understood these people were just being nice, and he didn’t want to be rude.
Besides, it was himself he was furious at, for believing the Ravens’ lies. For allowing them to blind him. For thinking Scar would put aside his prejudices and not be an insensitive bastard who left him in the middle of nowhere…alone.
He couldn’t take his own screwups out on someone else.
“No, thank you.”
Gage leaned forward, breathing in the plate, organizing it by scent. The pancakes were on the left, meat on the right, eggs in the center, and some kind of fruit in a bowl near a large cup of orange juice.
He ate in silence, trying not to scarf his food down like a rabid animal.
His mind, though, wouldn’t slow down. He thought of home.
Did his parents know he was alive? Did they still pray for him, or had they stopped saying his name aloud because it was too painful? And Roz, would he still trust him and not think he’d cut a deal to get out?
He was following Jesse’s instructions to the sink to rinse his plate when the phone buzzed in his corduroys.
“I’m coming through the front gate of Windy Willow,” Roz said.
Gage’s pulse kicked hard. He thanked Jesse, grabbed his plastic bag, and walked through the house toward the front door by memory.
He moved toward the kitchen doorway, following the heat from the stove. He brushed his fingers along the counter’s edge until the texture switched from smooth tile to rough wood paneling.
At the entrance to the front hall, he turned right, counting his steps like heartbeats. The quick shift from warm to cooler air told him he’d reached the foyer door.
The sound of an engine idling about five yards away had him damn near hyperventilating. A door slammed, and Roz’s familiar drawl, half-laughter, half-disbelief, made him want to fall to his knees.
“Holy shit.”
“Roz.”
He didn’t realize he was running—still counting—until he’d slammed into Roz’s warmth, colliding with him so hard it knocked the air out of both of them.
Roz caught him and held him tight, strong arms trembling around his waist.
“Goddamn you,” Roz whispered against his ear. “You’re really fuckin’ here.”
“Roz, I’m so scared.” Tears burned hot down his face.
“You’re all right now. I’ve got you.”
Gage’s throat closed. He wished he could see Roz’s expressive dark-brown eyes.
They stood there embracing, breathing hard. He inhaled Roz’s familiar, sandalwood musk cologne, holding on to him as if he’d wake up in that barn still alone if he let go.
“They told us you were fuckin’ dead.”
Gage finally leaned back, heart pounding. “What? Who?”
Gravel crunched behind them and cut off whatever Roz was about to say.
“Didn’t wanna let you leave without sayin’ goodbye, Rick.” Abilene’s voice was as warm as the sun.
