SaraSara spread out the curtains Ian had bought for the bedroom windows. They weren’t bad at all. She might have picked them herself, if she’d been able to shop. She rubbed the thin material between her fingers. The design was light gray with darker gray flowers and white accents embroidered in vertical rows.Maybe she wouldn’t have chosen these, after all. They looked and felt expensive. She would’ve certainly taken the price tag into consideration while shopping.Sara didn’t have expensive tastes. She wondered if Ian did or if he’d just thought she would like them. She did like them. The room was dark with its wood-paneled walls, but the gray was light enough to brighten the small space. They were also thin enough to let the sun shine through. She liked to wake at sunrise on days when she didn’t have to be at work.She missed her job. She’d been working for Memphis Mission before she’d gotten the phone call from Andrew. That call had changed the trajectory of the life she was livin
IanIan followed Sara into the house. She moved into the kitchen, and he followed her. She wore no makeup, and her hair hung loose over one shoulder.Everything he wanted to say to her had built up inside of him. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and that he loved her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her like he should have done years ago.He tapped his knuckles on the table three times. Their code would have to change from touch to sound until she trusted him again.Sara gifted him a closed-lip smile and tapped her knuckles once on the counter.When he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he breathed, “I never wanted to let you go.”Sara nodded and bit her bottom lip. “Me either.”All the things he’d been dying to hear from her were meaningless. Those two words were enough for him.Ian fought to control his voice as he said, “Everything that happened between us—and everything that didn’t happen—feels like forever ago, but then, it feels like yesterday.”In truth, nothing felt
SaraThe next morning, Ian brought more than just a rug for the living room. He brought a few decorations and more groceries too. All of her favorite foods were pulled from grocery bags one by one, including more butterscotch candies.“You didn’t have to do all this,” Sara said.Ian glanced at her with a smirk. “Yes, I did.”She pulled the contents from the next bag. “You brought pancakes too?” The tray was from The Line, her favorite diner in town. He’d been stopping by there a lot this week.“Of course.”“You know I can cook, right?”Ian chuckled. “I know you’re a good cook. I just don’t want you to cook if you don’t have to.”She felt a rush of warmth in her chest. This was the Ian she’d known, and her heart didn’t ache so badly now that he wasn’t throwing darts at her. He knew that she’d spent her childhood taking care of a dad who hadn’t appreciated her. Cooking had always been a chore to her—something else that had to be done.They sat down across from each other at the small, w
Sara didn’t have to look far for the blankets. There was one on the couch and one on the bed that she’d been throwing over her feet at night.She stepped out the back door onto the porch to find that Ian was right. The wind was blowing, and the early spring breeze slashed at her cheeks like knives. She wrapped the blankets around her shoulders and surveyed the backyard. The trees were still leafless, and only faint patches of sky shone through the forest canopy.The rebirth of spring hadn’t taken hold here yet, but it would come in the next few weeks. Until then, she could brave the cold winds for this view. Surrounded by trees and far away from anyone she needed to hide from, the woods held a comfort she craved. Had Mr. Garrison played out here as a kid?Sara turned to examine the deck, and while it seemed sturdy enough, there wasn’t anywhere to sit. She stepped back inside and grabbed an old chair from the living area. It was wooden with scrolling arms and padding on the seat and ba
Twelve Years EarlierLiz finished scrubbing the pot she’d made the chili in earlier. She’d have plenty to freeze since Dad didn’t come home for supper and Ian was on vacation with his family. It didn’t look like anything was missing from the surplus she’d made.The old house was quiet, save for a few creaks here and there. Her phone dinged with a text, and she pulled it out of the pocket of her sweatpants as she passed the back door. Her dad’s filthy boots caught her eye, and she tucked the phone back into her pocket. It was Ian. No one else texted her. Right now, she needed to get those boots cleaned off and outside.She scrunched up her nose at the smell of chicken manure and grabbed the top of the boots as she opened the door. She kept a wire bristle brush by the back door, and she sat on the cinderblock step and held her breath against the stench to brush the bottoms.Mr. Garrison’s back porch light was on. He always left it on… for her. The old busybody knew she snuck over to Ian
IanIan’s insides churned as Sara continued her story. It took everything he had not to vomit in the bushes beyond the deck railing.Sara went on. “The cops came, and I remember hearing them at the door and screaming until my lungs hurt. They got my dad and Kenny, but Owen wasn’t there, and even with my testimony about what Trisha had told me, he wasn’t convicted. There wasn’t anything to tie him to what happened, except Trisha’s word.”Standing, Ian leaned against the deck railing to face her. He’d been quiet throughout the story, but every emotion warred inside him. Anger, rage, disgust, fear. What had happened to her was worse than he’d imagined.She was beauty from ashes, a flower rising from a crumbled ruin. She was resilience in human form, and it was a miracle that her small shoulders could bear the weight of the pain of her past.“The cops finally took me home after I gave statements, but I asked them to take me to Mr. Garrison’s house. I couldn’t go home alone.”Ian let his c
IanThe silence of the last few days had been eradicated. Sara told him about high school while he installed the new countertops in the kitchen, and he told her about their old friends over lunch. They moved the furniture in the living room, and she started painting the walls while he finished up in the kitchen. The rooms were close enough that he could read her facial expressions when he looked her way.Ian’s phone rang at 4:30. It was Sissy, and she barely let him answer the call before she started in on him.“We’re having lasagna. Be here at 5:30, and please don’t be late because I had no idea how hard it would be to make lasagna with a toddler and an infant.” A crash in the background was followed by a childish scream.“I’ll be there.” He’d forgotten, but he refrained from thanking his sister-in-law for the reminder that he’d promised to stop by for dinner.“Good. Bring some rolls. I’ll throw them in the oven when you get here.”“Yes, ma’am.”Ian caught Sara averting her gaze as h
The next morning, Sara woke before the sun. After a dreamless night, she jumped from the bed well-rested and ready for the day.After showering and adding a little makeup, she started a pot of coffee. She was moving furniture around in the living room to get started on her painting for the day when her phone rang. It was Trisha.“Hey, stranger,” Sara said with a smile as she placed the phone between her ear and shoulder.“I know. Sorry it’s been so long. Were you up?” Trisha sounded tired but happy.“I was.” Sara looked around at the house Mr. Garrison had grown up in—the house she was living in until further notice. “I don’t even know how to begin to tell you where I am.”Trisha sighed. “I need to unwind, so start at the beginning.”Trisha had taken the stand and testified against Kenny, Owen, and Sara’s dad after her kidnapping, but Trisha hadn’t let it break her. She’d moved to France with her mother a few months after the sentencing, and she’d entered the criminal justice field. T
NOAH Camille glanced over both shoulders as if checking to make sure the coast was clear before extending both hands, palms up, toward Sprite. “Take your pick, pretty lady.” One hand offered an apple and the other a sugar cube. Noah wasn’t sure who liked treat time the most, his girlfriend or the horse. Dixie circled Camille’s legs, begging for attention. He’d just watched from the tailgate as Camille rode Sprite through the pasture by the stable. “Sugar. Always a good choice.” Camille waited for the blue roan to finish the treats before nuzzling noses with the big softie. It’d been a week since Noah was released from the hospital, and he was still getting used to needing help completing small tasks. The bandages were cumbersome and needed to be changed often. Not to mention small things like showering and putting on pants had become a chore. Camille spent every moment she could helping him. He didn’t mind it when she helped, but it was an unspoken truth that any “help” from his b
“There’s a lot you don’t know about Nathan, but none of it excuses what he did,” Bonnie said. Bonnie went with Camille to her house to change clothes and pack a bag of extras, in case Noah stayed at the hospital overnight. She planned on staying there until he came home. She’d called Anita and rounded up some things she needed too. Now, Camille and her mom were back on the road, and they had a lot to talk about. “Nathan was adopted when he was four years old,” Bonnie began. “He was neglected as a child, and he had a handful of health problems that had never been treated. By the time he was taken from his parents, he was malnourished, dehydrated, and had several broken bones and bruises.” Camille turned away from her mother. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard this story before, but her heart told her she hadn’t. “Your grandparents didn’t have any children, but they had been in touch with the local foster care system and were contacted when Nathan was still recovering. They adopted
Her foot rested heavy on the accelerator as she drove from Cody to Blackwater. Anger and betrayal built within her with every mile that passed beneath her tires. Twisting her hands on the steering wheel, she ached for a distraction. Something to calm the storm of her emotions. How could Nathan do something so horrible? She called Jenny and let the ringing in her car speakers drown out the roiling in her ears. “Hey. What’s up?” “Noah is in the hospital in Cody. A bear attacked him this morning.” “What?” Jenny screamed. “Is he okay?” Camille’s voice shook. “He is now. It looked so bad after it happened, though. It clawed his leg up good.” Rustling sounded on Jenny’s end of the line. “Do I need to come?” “No,” Camille assured her. “He’s doing okay. They stitched him up and he’s conscious now, but he lost a lot of blood. He’ll be in quite a bit of pain while it heals.” “I can’t imagine.” “They were cleaning up a dozen cows that were shot last night when the bear attacked.” Camill
She couldn’t lose him. Not again, and not like this. Camille raked her hands through Noah’s hair while his head lay in her lap. She was trying to be brave. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to break apart right now. Noah needed her to stay alert and strong for him. “I’m glad you’re here.” His words were faint, but she’d heard him. Whatever reason he had for breaking up with her didn’t matter now. A tear slid down her face as she prayed. “Lord, please lay Your hand on Noah. Help us get him to the help he needs in time. Help me to be strong. Help us.” Her words cracked at the end, and she squeezed her eyes closed. “Please, Lord. I don’t want to lose him.” Tears burned her eyes when she opened them. He was lying still—too still. She looked to Lucas. “I think he’s unconscious!” Lucas held the injured leg stationary. “Almost there.” She turned and stretched her neck to see the main house over the next rise. The red-and-white ambulance was parked in front. The paramedics carefu
NOAH Noah tried to hold his ground, but the bear was running toward him now. He lowered the phone from his ear and yelled, “Micah!” He took two steps backward on instinct. He wasn’t running, but he was pretty sure it was the better option right now. On the third step back, his heel snagged on a fallen branch. He fell backward, arms flailing, and his phone went soaring through the air. “Micah!” Noah couldn’t take his eyes off the advancing predator to see if his brother was coming to help, but he prayed he’d yelled loud enough to be heard over the running tractor. The bear slowed as it approached Noah lying on his back. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, but he wasn’t breathing anyway. The bear’s large paw lifted and swiped down faster than any animal that large should’ve been able to move. Noah cried out once more as the claws sliced across his thigh. “Micah!” A boom filled the air, followed by another, and the bear jerked backward and fell onto its side. Noah could hear
NOAHNoah drove through the gates at Blackwater Ranch in a daze. His shift at the fire station had started the morning after he’d gone to Camille’s, and it had been a long two days.His shifts were always tiring, but this time he hadn’t been able to sleep or eat like he should to keep his energy up. Losing Camille felt like a constant, nagging hunger. His insides were empty, but he couldn’t get filled.He’d been praying, but no answers had come. Was he supposed to fix this on his own or wait for the Lord to show him how to mend his broken heart?He topped the slight hill before the main house, and a sinking feeling hit him in the chest. There weren’t any trucks parked out front. It was breakfast time. Everyone should’ve been there.Noah hastily parked by the door and ran inside, forgetting to take off his shoes.“Mom. Dad,” Noah hollered into the empty dining room.His mom stepped out of the kitchen and wiped her hands on her apron. “They’re all out,” his mom said in a shaky voice.“W
NOAHNoah closed Camille’s door behind him, but it didn’t block out her sobs. He couldn’t move his feet to walk away from her just yet. What had he done? He’d made things worse with Nathan tonight, and then… this.Remembering the look on Camille’s face had his gut twisting. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He’d been given the chance to be happy again, and it had all been taken away too soon.Anger built in his chest as he sat on the small step on her front porch. There was a roaring in his ears, but he could still hear Camille’s wails behind him.He wanted to go back inside and hold her and tell her they would make it through anything together.But he couldn’t do that when it was probably a lie. How could he save his family and keep Camille in his life? It was too much to hope. He’d been allowed to enjoy the best times of his life with her, and the stretches of time in between were just filler.Sitting alone in the dark night outside her door, he hung his head and prayed.
Camille leaned closer to the screen of her laptop and squinted. “Those might work,” she mumbled to herself. The boots on her screen resembled the ones Noah and his brothers wore around the ranch, but finding the female equivalent had proven to be a challenge. Plus, ordering shoes online was always hit or miss. She ran the heart pendant of her necklace back and forth along the chain as she added the boots to the shopping cart.She’d wised up with the wide-brimmed cowboy hat already, and good boots were a must at this point if she planned to keep working with Noah around the ranch on her days off.A knock sounded at her door, and Camille jumped in her seat, bumping her knees on the desk. “Oww.” So much for assessing the stranger at her door before revealing she was at home.She pushed away from the desk and padded over to the door in her bare feet. Peering through the peephole, she saw Noah standing on her doorstep with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.Camille fumbled with t
NOAHCamille’s parents’ house was a log and brick monstrosity with wooden columns along the front side thicker than Noah had ever seen. Two stories of walls and windows stretched into a double-decker garage on one side. A twenty-foot-tall statue of angels and cherubs sat imposing in the grassy area along the circular drive.He’d put off coming here for long enough, but it was time to talk. If Nathan wasn’t home, he’d just sit in his truck and wait for him.Noah had always felt small when he came here. The size of the place dwarfed anything around it except the mountains. He knew from days past when he would visit Camille that there was a heated pool in the back along with a fire pit, an outdoor grilling area, and a guest house.The old truck door groaned and creaked as it closed behind him, and Noah threw his cowboy hat back into the cab through the open window. There wasn’t any sense in stirring the pot. His boots thudded loudly against the sturdy boards of the porch as he approached