The Best of Me - Nicholas Sparks [81]
By the time he finished, Amanda could feel her heart racing as she tried to comprehend it. “Are you saying that Ted tried to kill you? That he went to Tuck’s place with a gun to hunt you down, and you didn’t feel the need to even mention this yesterday?”
Dawson shook his head in apparent indifference. “It was over. I took care of it.”
She could hear her voice rising. “You dump his body back at the old homestead and call Abee? You take his gun and dump it? That’s taking care of it?”
He sounded too tired to argue. “It’s my family,” he said. “That’s how we handle things.”
“You’re not like them.”
“I’ve always been one of them,” he said. “I’m a Cole, remember? They come, we fight, they come again. It’s what we do.”
“So what are you saying? That it’s not over?”
“Not to them.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Same thing I’ve been doing. Try my best to stay out of sight, keep out of their way as much as possible. It shouldn’t be too hard. Other than cleaning up the car and maybe swinging by the cemetery again, I’ve got no reason to stick around.”
A sudden thought, liquid and blurry at first, began to crystallize in her mind, one that led to the first stirrings of panic. “Is that why we didn’t go back last night?” she demanded. “Because you thought they might be at Tuck’s?”
“I’m sure they were,” he said. “But no, that’s not the reason we’re here. I didn’t think about them at all yesterday. I had a perfect day with you instead.”
“You’re not angry with them?”
“Not particularly.”
“How can you do that? Just turn it off like that? Even when you know they’re out there hunting you down?” Amanda could feel adrenaline flooding her body. “Is this some crazy idea about your destiny as a Cole?”
“No.” He shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible. “I wasn’t thinking about them because I was thinking about you. And since you first came into my life, that’s the way it’s always been. I don’t think about them because I love you, and there isn’t room for both.”
Her gaze fell. “Dawson…”
“You don’t have to say it,” he hushed her.
“Yes, I do,” she pressed, and she leaned in, her lips meeting his. When they separated, the words flowed as naturally as her breath. “I love you, Dawson Cole.”
“I know,” he said, gently sliding his arm around her waist. “I love you, too.”
The storm had wrung the humidity from the air, leaving blue skies and a sweet floral aroma behind. The occasional drop of water still fell from the roof, landing on ferns and ivy, making them shimmer in the clear golden light. Dawson had kept his arm around Amanda, and she leaned into him, savoring the pressure of her body against his.
After Amanda rewrapped the clover and tucked it into her pocket, they got up and walked the property, their arms around each other. Skirting the wildflowers—the path they’d used the day before was muddy—they made their way around the back. The house was set into a small bluff; beyond that, the Bay River stretched out, almost as wide as the Neuse. At the water’s edge, they spotted a blue heron high-stepping through the shallows; a little farther down, a clutch of turtles was sunning on a log.
They stayed for a while, taking it all in before slowly circling back to the house. On the porch, Dawson pulled her close, kissing her again, and she kissed him back, flooded by the knowledge of her love for him. When they finally drew back, she heard the faint sound of a cell phone as it began to ring. Her phone, reminding her of the life she still had elsewhere. At the sound, Amanda bowed