Carnal Innocence by Nora Roberts

an unsteady hand through her hair. It was going to be all right, she told herself, now that they were down to the questions and answers, the mechanics of law and order.
    “The quiet seems so loud, if you know what I mean. And the birds, and insects. The owls.” She stopped, and what was left of her color drained away. “The other night, the first night I was here … oh, God.”
    “You just take your time, ma’am.”
    “I thought I heard a woman scream. I’d been asleep, and it woke me. Frightened me. Then I remembered where I was, and about the owls. Those screech owls.” She closed her eyes on a flood of guilt. “I went back to sleep. It could have been her, calling for help. I just went back to sleep.”
    “Or it could have been an owl. Even if it was her, Miss Waverly, you couldn’t have helped. Could you tell me what time it woke you up?”
    “No, I’m sorry. I have no idea. I didn’t look.”
    “Do you walk back there much?”
    “I have a couple of times. My grandfather took me fishing back there once when I visited.”
    “I’ve gotten some good cats back there myself,” he said conversationally. “Do you smoke?”
    “No.” Manners rising again, she glanced around for an ashtray. “Please, go ahead.”
    He pulled one out, but he was thinking about the single cigarette butt he’d found near the log. Edda Lou didn’t smoke either. “You haven’t noticed anyone poking around here? No one’s come by to see you?”
    “As I said, I haven’t been here long. I did run into someone the first day. He said my grandmother let him come down to watch the water.”
    Burke kept his face impassive, but his heart began to sink. “Do you know who that was?”
    “His name was Longstreet. Tucker Longstreet.”
    Tucker was back in the hammock holding a cold beer against his swollen eye and sulking. His body no longer felt like it had been trampled by horses. It felt like it had been dragged a few miles first. He was regretting, bitterly, his decision to face Austin. Far better to have slunk off to Greenville or even Vicksburg for a few days. What the hell had made him think that pride and honesty were worth a fist in the eye?
    Worse yet was the fact that Edda Lou was probably off somewhere smirking at all the trouble she’d caused. The more he thought about it, the surer he was that Austin had battered him for no good reason. Edda Lou wasn’t about to have an abortion. Not that Tucker figured she’d turn from one on moral or maternal grounds. But if she wasn’t pregnant, she wouldn’t have any hold on him.
    A hold, he thought miserably, that would last the rest of his life.
    Nothing took hold of you like family, he thought. And his blood would mix with Edda Lou’s in the baby she was carrying. All the good and bad there was between them would stir around, leaving it up to God orfate or maybe just timing to determine which traits endured.
    He took a long swallow of beer, then rested the bottle against his eye again. It wasn’t any use thinking about something that wasn’t going to happen for months yet. He was better off worrying about the almighty present.
    He hurt, and if he didn’t feel so damn stupid about the whole mess, he’d have called Doc Shays.
    To lull himself, he let his thoughts drift to more pleasant matters.
    Caroline Waverly. She was as pretty as one of those tall, glossy ice-cream parfaits. The kind that cooled you off and made you greedy for more. He grinned to himself as he remembered the snooty look she’d given him in Larsson’s that afternoon.
    That queen-to-peasant look. Christ, it made him want to just scoop her right up.
    Not that he had any plans to. He was swearing off women awhile. Not only did his body hurt, but he figured his luck was a bit shaky. Still, it was pleasant to think about it. He liked the way her voice sounded, all soft and smoky, so different from her cool, hands-off look.
    He wondered just what he’d have to do to convince her to let him get his hands on.