From the Start
“How is she?”
Colton couldn’t make out who asked the question. It was all he could do to stay upright, the numb rush of the past hour finally wearing off and leaving in its place such a revulsion he thought he might throw up.
But then Case’s hand landed on his shoulder—not the bad one—a steadying presence. “What happened, son?”
Raegan was talking to the others, explaining that they were waiting for an update.
“I . . . we . . .” He gulped in a ragged breath. “We were just driving, talking. And then I . . . there was a train.” It tightened his lungs all over again, the memory. “I had a flashback. I get them sometimes.”
But never like he had tonight.
“And then I turned the car around and next thing I knew there was a deer and another car and we hit.”
Oh, God, what did I do? If he’d just taken her back to Megan’s.
“It’s my fault.” He could feel the eyes of everyone on him now. Kate’s dad and sister and cousin and friends and . . . “Logan. I should call Logan and Beckett. They—”
“We’ve already done that, Colton.” Case spoke gently. “And no more talk of it being your fault. From the sounds of it, it was a deer. Those things cause more accidents . . .” He squeezed Colton’s shoulder.
Colton didn’t argue. Not out loud anyway. But he knew.
He’d been the one to insist they keep driving.
He’d been the one to pick then, of all times, to suddenly fully remember something he’d blocked out for twenty years.
He’d been the one to swerve the car back toward town, faster than he should . . .
It was his fault. And if Kate wasn’t okay, he didn’t know what he’d do.
“We should sit down.” Raegan’s tone was soft. “And you should get that knee looked at.”
“Not until we know about Kate.”
“Okay, good, this must be Kate’s crew.”
Colton spun, everybody bunching around him as a doctor appeared from around the corner.
“Dr. Morris?” Case stepped forward, hand outstretched.
The doctor shook his hand. “The good news is, she’s going to be fine. She’s going to walk again. Everything’s fixable.”
Colton could feel the whole group let out a collective breath.
“You say she’s going to walk again,” Case said. “That means she’s not going to for . . .”
The doctor nodded in confirmation. “For a while. Her right arm was a clean break. We’ve already set it and it’s almost done getting casted. Her right leg is a different story. She’s going to need surgery, and I want to send her to Ames for that. So it’ll be a while before she’s up and about. Probably take some physical therapy for a few months after, but again, nothing we can’t fix.”
Months. What about Africa?
“I can give you more information on the surgery and how we’d like to move forward, but first I thought you might want to see her. She’s also got a couple cracked ribs, so no tight hugs.”
Relief fanned through their little group, but Colton couldn’t grab hold of it. Broken arm, broken leg, cracked ribs. Kate . . . his Kate.
Not my Kate.
Not anymore.
“Of course, we want to see her,” Raegan was saying now, her hand encased in Bear’s. “Can we all go back?”
Dr. Morris smiled. How could he look so relaxed after the news he’d just delivered? “I think so. For a few minutes anyway.”
The group began moving forward. Not Colton.
Case turned. “Colt?”
“You guys go on. I’m going to . . .” He closed his eyes. Opened them again. “I’ll go get those X-rays.”
“She’ll want to see you.”
“She’s not going to be able to go to Africa, Case. You heard what the doctor said. She’s going to be in PT for months.” She’d already put her life on hold for a month, just so she could write his book—and then he’d gone and told her he was thinking of calling it quits. Now he wrecked the one thing she’d wanted more than anything? “I ruined it for her.”
“You don’t know that, son. Maybe the foundation will be able to postpone her trip. Maybe she’ll recover faster than the doctor expects.”
The rest of the group disappeared around the corner. “You should go.”
“And you should come with.” Case’s voice hit a firm tone. But when Colton only shook his head, the older man finally sighed. “Well, okay. Then come back after your X-rays.”
Colton nodded. But as soon as Case hurried out of sight, he turned and hobbled to the exit.
“I. Love. Pain-killers.”
Everyone in the room burst into laughter at Kate’s declaration.
“What? If you had four broken bones—well, two broken, two cracked—not to mention enough glass removed from your skin to make a stained-glass window, you’d thank the Lord for modern medicine, too.”
Raegan ran a brush through Kate’s hair as she perched on the side of the hospital bed. “What I’m thanking the Lord for is that somehow you’re cracking jokes just hours after a car accident.”
Had to be the medicine.
Or maybe honest-to-goodness thankfulness. She was alive. Tonight could’ve ended so differently.
And now she was surrounded by family who’d left her room only long enough to buy flowers and balloons in the hospital gift shop, buy her every flavor of M&M’s from the vending machine, and find her a jacket to put on over her dress until Seth and Ava got back from the house with clean clothes. Apparently they were getting a ride in the same Emergency Management boat that had delivered Dad and Raegan across the river.
If only Colton would walk through the glass door leading into her room. Where was he? She’d asked about him earlier. Dad said something about X-rays. But that was over an hour ago.
Dad was the only one who hadn’t left her room even once. He watched her now from the vinyl chair he’d pulled to her bedside.
“I’m okay, Dad.”
He had the same haggard look he’d had when she first came home weeks ago.
He leaned forward to grasp her fingers, extending from a gleaming white cast. “Of course, you are.”
In the corner of her room, Bear held up her phone. “Megan texted back. ‘WHAT?’ That’s in all-caps. ‘Glad you’re okay. Idiot deer. How’s that guy?’ I assume she means Colton?”
She wished she knew how Colton was. Dad said he didn’t have serious injuries, but . . .
But they hadn’t seen him in the car. Physically he might be fine. But something had happened tonight. The need to see him now coursed through her, overwhelmingly strong.
Pain-killers couldn’t help with that.
“Can you text her back and let her know he’s okay?”
Raegan finished brushing her hair and stood. “I’ll go look for him, okay? He has to be done with the X-rays by now.”
Her sister read her well.
Bear accompanied Raegan out the door, leaving Kate alone with Dad. Bobbing balloons filled the counter behind him. And behind that, a narrow window peeked on the black night. How late was it now? Had to be close to midnight, surely.
“So Dr. Morris filled you in on the surgery and everything?”
Dad nodded. “I’m afraid you’ve got somewhat of a long road in front of you, Katie.”
“I know.” She shifted on the stark white sheets of the hospital bed, her propped leg making any kind of comfortable position impossible and the cast weighing her right arm. “And the road definitely does not lead to Africa.”
She’d known it before the doctor even started talking surgery and physical therapy. A feeling. She’d probably feel the disappointment more keenly tomorrow or next week or whenever the shock of all that’d happened tonight wore off. It’d sink in, eventually, that the open door she’d been so sure was from God had been so swiftly and forcefully closed.
But tonight . . . tonight she couldn’t bring herself to think past her next conversation with Colton. If he’d just sho
w up.
“You talked to Colton when you first got here, right? He told you everything that happened?” She licked her dry lips.
Dad lifted a glass of water from the bedside stand, held it for her while she sipped from the straw. “He told me what happened. In very monosyllabic terms, that is. He said something about a flashback.”
“He remembered the accident that killed his parents.”
It’d happened so fast. One minute they were talking—about his book. It’d seemed so important then. The next, a train was rushing past and Colton was going white and thank goodness he’d somehow managed to slow and brake in the midst of whatever turmoil had taken over his mind.
“You should’ve seen him, Dad. It was like his body was in the car but the rest of him wasn’t. It was terrifying to watch. I can’t imagine . . .” A pain much sharper than any of her physical injuries winded her. “It was almost scarier than the accident.”
“At least you were with him.”
“I don’t think I helped at all, though. He didn’t seem to hear me afterward. And then the accident happened right away and—” She cut off, jerked in the bed to face Dad. “He thinks it’s his fault, doesn’t he? That’s why he hasn’t come in. Oh my goodness, he’s sitting somewhere in this hospital blaming himself.”
“Kate—”
“We have to tell him it’s not his fault.” Her first real tears of the night finally started falling, streaming down her cheeks in hot trails. “That stupid deer could’ve jumped out in front of anybody.”
“He knows that.”
“I don’t think he does. Otherwise he’d be here.” She shook her head, sniffles clogging her voice, emotions now beyond her control. “Does he know I can’t go to Africa?”
Resignation creased Dad’s face. “I’m afraid so.”
“H-he’ll blame himself for that, too. We have to find him, Dad. D-drag him in here, if you have to. I have to tell him.”
Dad handed her a tissue, but it wasn’t enough for the rush of tears that’d turned into full sobs. “Tell him what?”
“That I . . .” That I love him.
Oh, Lord, I do, I love him. And he’s hurting . . . and I’m . . .
Losing it.
Or maybe the pain-killers were wearing off.
Or maybe this was a second round of shock.
Whatever it was, it shook through her. “I just need to talk to him.”
Dad leaned closer, pulling her head to his shoulder. “We’ll find him, honey. It’s going to be okay.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, letting her father’s comfort wash over her.
“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated.
She sniffled once more, willed the sobs to stop welling in her throat. Deep breaths. Dad’s fingers brushed the hair from her forehead, and he leaned her back against her pillows. “Why don’t you try to rest for a few minutes.”
She forced her eyes open. “As soon as they find Colton, you’ll make him come in here?”
“I promise.”
She let her eyes drift closed again, heard the creak of Dad’s chair as he stood. Maybe the pain-killers hadn’t worn off, after all, because she could feel her body finally relaxing, her thoughts releasing . . .
Until footsteps padded into the room. Soft voices. She strained to hear above the pull of her fatigue, tried to open her eyes.
“We think he left.”
“Left the hospital?”
She gave in to sleep at Raegan’s reply. “Left town.”
18
You’ve got two casts. You’re sitting in a wheelchair. And you’re attempting to rake leaves?”
At the sound of Megan’s flat voice and her footsteps swishing through a blanket of gnarled leaves, Kate turned her wheelchair, dragging her rake with her. “Not attempting. Look at my pile.”
Megan glanced over the leaves Kate had managed to sweep into a cluster—then over to where Dad worked. November hadn’t wasted time making its mark this year, arriving in a bluster of cold temps and stripped-bare trees, turning Dad’s backyard into a wash of burgundy and brown.
“Yeah,” Megan said slowly. “Kinda like the Flint Hills up against the Rockies.”
“Hey, if I had use of both arms and both legs, I’d have the Everest of piles going.”
Megan thrust the covered coffee cup she held forward. “Here.”
Kate could smell the coffee before she reached for it. “Pumpkin spice?”
“Obviously.” Fingerless gloves covered Megan’s hands, and she wore a tight black tank top over a hot pink long-sleeved shirt, black-and-white striped skirt, black leggings.
“Thanks for the coffee. You’re looking very punk rocker today, Meg.”
She eyed the chair. “And you’re looking very Deborah Kerr at the end of An Affair to Remember. When do you get out of that thing?”
“Arm cast comes off tomorrow, which means I graduate to crutches.” Kate followed her sip of coffee with a grin. “By the way, your classic movie education might be one of the greater accomplishments of my life.” And a much needed distraction in the past four—almost five—weeks.
Megan shifted her weight from foot to foot, as if reluctant to spit out her next words. Finally she picked up Kate’s rake and swept it over the ground, leaves crunching.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“If you want to get anywhere with your section of the yard, I do. Anyway, I came to tell you, I might not have as much time to watch movies starting tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
Megan paused, leaned her elbow on the end of her rake, and raised her eyebrows. “Look at your cup.”
Kate held it up, focus finally hooking on the Coffee Coffee logo on its side. “Oh my goodness, the shop. You’re ready to reopen?”
“New flooring got installed yesterday. Furniture’s going in today.” She resumed raking. “Would’ve been done even sooner if the insurance claim hadn’t taken so long to come through. But I guess considering everything, a month wasn’t so bad.”
Wow, had it really been a full month since the flood? Weird how quickly it’d all passed. First the surgery, a few days in the hospital, finally back home and halfway mobile thanks to the wheelchair on loan from the hospital. Somewhere along the way, the bruises all over her right side had healed and the scratches along her forehead had faded.
Sure, she had a couple months, at least, of PT ahead of her. But for the most part, her physical injuries were healing.
Just wished she could say the same for the emotional ones.
“You still haven’t heard from Colton.”
For all her attempts at droll and uninterested, Megan read her awfully well.
“Only a couple emails.” Letting her know he was back in LA, confirming that the publisher had let him out of his contract. But never any explanation about what’d happened in the car that night. Why he’d just up and left town.
Left her. Would a good-bye have been so much to ask? A two-minute stop by her hospital room to tell her in person whatever she thought they’d started had come to a swift and abrupt end?
“I can’t believe I thought he was such a great guy.” Megan’s rake slapped at the leaves on the ground. “The way he helped that day at Coffee Coffee and all? I was convinced he was a regular Captain America type.”
Kate couldn’t keep following this line of conversation. “So the coffee shop reopening.”
“That’s some impressive segue skill you’ve got.”
“Right up there with my raking skills.” Kate wheeled herself out of the path of Megan’s rake. “But seriously, you handled the whole thing like a pro, Meg. Not a lot of twenty-one-year-olds would’ve come through that on their feet.”
Like every other business along the riverfront, Coffee Coffee’s damage had been extensive. Flooring, plumbing, wiring—all of it had suffered. Its foundation had been compromised, its walls water-stained and stripped.
But Megan had found the determination to tackle the aftermath.
The entire community had, really—just like after the tornado. It’d taken almost a full week for the river to recede, but once it did, they’d thrown themselves into piecing the town back together.
“So when do you head back to Chicago?” Megan asked.
“In a few days. Raegan’s playing chauffeur. She’s going to stay with me for a couple weeks. At least until my leg cast is off.” Because Bear had finally talked to her about his plans. And though Raegan was still insistent on her desire to stay in Maple Valley long-term, she needed a temporary escape.
As for Kate, she didn’t have a clue what Chicago held for her. She’d had to call Frederick Langston weeks ago and back out of the Africa trip—a conversation that’d left her mopey for days. She’d had such a perfect plan there for a while: Write Colton’s book, go to Africa, come home brimming with project ideas . . . and then maybe, finally, write what she’d been born to write. Whatever that was.
Now she was jobless and idealess.
Heart muddled.
But the one thing she knew was, despite Dad’s repeated offers, she couldn’t stay in Maple Valley. She had to figure out what came next. Decide what she wanted and go after it . . . instead of waiting for it to come after her.
“I’ll see you again before you leave, right?” Megan’s hopeful voice cut in.
Kate found a smile. “Of course. Because I don’t think I’ve, as of yet, fully convinced you to consider naming your baby after me. I’m not giving up.”
“What if it’s a boy?”
“Walker would make a great name for a baby boy.”
Megan only smirked and kept raking.
Later, after she’d departed, Kate rolled her chair over knotty ground to where Dad was now gathering leaves into black garbage bags. The cool, the smell of fall, the brilliant blue of the sky against a backdrop of craggy brown trees . . .
Kate was going to miss this.
“You should be wearing a coat, Katie.”
“Eh, heaving myself around in this thing keeps me plenty warm.”
Dad tied a bag closed and dropped it to the ground. “I’m ready for a break. Care to take a walk with me?” He moved behind her chair and began pushing.