All Chapters of The Journey Collection: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

"Miranda," Sheriff Patton repeated. "Darlin', I need to speak with you." My attention flicked between the sheriff and my girlfriend. Something was terribly wrong. Everything about his posture, his demeanor, it all put me on edge. His hands on his hips and his lowered head made me uneasy. With his chin down, I couldn't see the sheriff's face, and then he turned his attention to me. "Austin, son, why don't you bring her up here.""Yes, sir." Nervous energy pumped through my veins and drove me across the lake as I swam toward Randi. I was lost as to what his agenda might be; nevertheless, I wasn't brave enough to disobey. I popped up at Randi's side and motioned for us to get out of the water. She shook her head, adamantly refusing to go. "Sweetheart, the sheriff needs to talk to you. I don't think it's open for discussion." I couldn't tell which of us was more terrified, so I pretended it wasn't me and took her hand. "Come on. I'll go with you." I tried to wink, although it

The days that followed Sarah's accident were awful. She'd defied the odds and made it past each milestone the doctors said she would never reach, although it happened at an unbelievably slow pace. She'd been kept in a medically induced coma while her organs and bones heal. Even that hadn't been without complications. Sarah had spontaneous internal bleeding that required additional surgery; her appendix burst, which the physicians swore had nothing to do with the accident-I didn't believe it. And the list went on so long, I'd lost track. Jack had spent every waking moment at the hospital with Sarah, leaving Randi home by herself. I'd been apprehensive about staying there without his permission, and then I realized he'd left her to the wolves. It wasn't in Randi's best interest to be isolated. She'd been despondent at best, and each day that passed, it only got worse. Her dad had done everything he could to keep Randi from Sarah, even against the advice of her physicians. "She's

I slowed the truck when I hit the edge of town. There weren't many people on the sidewalks after dark, so the likelihood that I'd miss Miranda, if I saw her, was slim. Most of the shops closed at five, along with the tiny post office. I hadn't stopped at the feed store when I passed. I couldn't imagine any reason she'd have gone in there. Clancy, the owner, was a hundred years old if he was a day, and crotchety as all get-out. I had no desire to interact with him unless I had to. There were a couple of cars at the filling station, so I pulled in and inched my way down the glass front. Unless Miranda had taken a seat on the floor, she wasn't strolling the aisles of the Pump & Go. I wondered how long it would take someone to flag me down to question what in tarnation I was doing, and at the rate my truck moved, they could jump in front of it and not risk being mowed over. With only two places left-other than Clancy's-that remained open, I pulled into the diner parking lot. It was eith

If I'd never known Mama, the expression on Sarah's face would have been foreign. Since I had, I remembered it from my childhood, and not fondly. Whatever was coming wouldn't be fun, but she believed it was best in the long run. Which meant, I'd hate it. Sarah opened the door as she answered. "To get my purse. And then I'm going home. I'll be back in the morning to pick up Daddy. You're welcome to ride with us." She glanced at our father, tapped her fingers on the wood, and then disappeared inside.I hadn't been alone with my father since I'd gotten here. Any time I'd been at the hospital, Eason had been there, and Daddy wasn't awake. A chill slid up my spine like a snake slithering through grass, and it coiled around my neck, threatening to choke me."Sit down, Miranda. I ain't gonna bite." There was a softness to his gruff tenor.The porch creaked beneath my weight as I moved to take the seat Sarah had vacated moments earlier. No sooner had I sat down than my sister strolled

I kept watch over her from the corner of my eye. She didn't talk to anyone other than the bartender to order a drink. The amber liquid never appeared to diminish, but I'd kept count of how many glasses she'd ordered...and consumed. I assumed it was whiskey, although that was nothing more than a random guess. It didn't matter if it was whiskey, tequila, bourbon, or rum. Unless she'd taken up drinking in New York, the moment she stood from that stool, she'd fall flat on her ass. I wasn't here to keep her from embarrassing herself, but I'd be damned if I would have to face Jack Adams after another one of his daughters nearly killed herself in a fatal car accident. If that meant I had to stay here until last call to ensure she didn't become a smear on the highway, then so be it. Brock kept me occupied with several crappy games of pool, a few rounds of darts, and water in a glass that made it look like vodka without the regret of alcohol. Twenty-four years of friendship and the man co