Songbird Read Free Page A

it could have existed a hundred years before, a farm house on a fledgling cattle spread. And it did, she reminded herself ruefully. This land had been in the Donovan family for over a century, built when the west was still new, when people with big dreams came to settle the raw, untamed land.
    The sun was sliding over the mountains, and the chill of the spring air elicited a trail of goose bumps over her arms.
    Tagg looked down at her as he mounted the steps, and his eyes softened. “We’re home, Emmy.”
    He set her down, almost as if he knew how important it was that she walk inside on her own. Greer opened the door, and Emily stepped into the living room.
    The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was hard to put a name on the smell of home. It was older, musty but not unpleasant, just the reality of an aged house. There was a hint of tobacco, the scent of leather and a faint whisper of daffodils.
    Nothing had changed. The furniture was the same down to Taggert’s favorite threadbare armchair with ottoman. The old television had been replaced and a flatscreen was mounted on the wall catty-corner to the stone fireplace.
    Through the adjacent door, she knew she’d find the kitchen the same as she’d left it, its large open floor plan inviting and homey, the wraparound bar that hugged the entire kitchen a place for people to gather, talk and eat at the end of a long day.
    She could almost hear the laughter echoing through the hallways.
    “Emily, my dear! It’s so good to see you.”
    She blinked in shock to see Doc Summerston stand from his perch on the couch. She’d been so busy remembering that she hadn’t even noticed him in the room. What on earth was he doing here?
    “Hello, Doc,” she said a little nervously.
    Greer wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a light squeeze. “We asked Doc to come out and look you over.”
    She inhaled in surprise and glanced sharply up at him and then over to Taggert who looked none too apologetic.
    “Is that all right with you, Emily?” Doc asked in a gentle voice.
    Her shoulders went down in defeat. It didn’t really matter. The sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could go to bed.
    “Where am I sleeping?” she murmured.
    “In your room,” Taggert said.
    She nodded and started for the stairs, Doc following behind her. Was there a diagnosis for dead-and-don’t-know-it? She almost laughed. Doc would think her terribly fatalistic.
    “Well, we got her here, now what the hell are we going to do?” Greer demanded after Emily and Doc disappeared up the stairs.
    “That’s a loaded question,” Taggert said with a sigh. “We take it one day at a time.”
    “It scares me to see her this way. It’s like she’s given up.”
    Taggert scowled. “I think she gave up a long time ago.”
    The two men paced the living room, and fifteen minutes later, Doc came down the stairs, a grim look on his face.
    “Well?” Taggert asked impatiently.
    Doc sighed. “It hurts my heart to see her like this. I watched that girl grow up, so happy and sunny. No one could look at her without smiling.”
    “Is she okay? I mean physically?” Greer interjected.
    “Well, yes and no. The problem is, she just doesn’t care. She’s weary to her bones. I doubt she’s slept for more than a few hours at a time in the last year. She’s only eating enough to get by. She’s given up. There’s so much hurt in that little girl’s eyes, it makes me ache.”
    “That makes two of us,” Greer muttered.
    Taggert shoved an impatient hand through his hair. “So what can we do?”
    Doc pinned them both with a resigned look. “I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to get tough with her.”
    Taggert frowned. Greer winced a little, but he knew Doc was right. As tempting as it was to coddle and baby her, it wasn’t going to help her rejoin the land of the living.
    “She has a routine of not having a routine. She eats, she sleeps—or tries to, and then she does it all over