Chapter 16
sixteen
K ristie lay down on the couch while Mission finished up with the dishes in the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t leave them until morning, but she was surprised that she didn’t fall asleep instantly.
He’d said he’d set out pajamas in the spare bedroom and that she could stay there until morning if she wanted to. And she wanted to, because she’d parked back over at the red barn and would either need to walk back to her car or get a ride and then drive home.
The noise in the kitchen dulled as Mission finished cleaning up. He turned off the lights, leaving only one pale yellow one shining above the stove. His footsteps came closer, and his fingertips whispered across her forehead.
“You asleep, kitten?”
“Almost,” she whispered.
He knelt down in front of her. “Do you want to sleep here or in the bedroom?”
“I don’t know where my phone is,” she said. “I need it to set an alarm.”
“It’s on the counter,” he said. “Here or the bedroom?”
She opened her eyes and found him close. The world narrowed to just the two of them in this small living room. Nothing could get to her here, and if anything tried, Mission would stand between her and it—protecting her, feeding her, and making sure she had every comfort life could offer.
She reached out and curled her hand around his ear, this connection between them so real and vibrant.
“I really think you’d be more comfortable in the bedroom,” he murmured.
“All right,” she whispered.
The next thing she knew, Mission had stood and was lifting her into his arms. She gasped and then grabbed onto his shoulders. He swiped her phone from the counter as he passed by, and he turned left into the first room.
“There’s a fan in here if you get hot,” he said before he carefully laid her down on the soft bed with the downy pillows. She tucked her feet under the blanket that had already been pulled back, and he started to pull the comforter up.
She stopped him with her hand on his and asked, “Will you hold me until I fall asleep?”
The faint light that shone in from the kitchen barely illuminated his face, and Kristie didn’t need to see it anyway. He sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his cowboy boots, then rolled onto the bed, taking her in his arms with great ease.
She sighed fully, relaxing into his embrace as she twined her fingers through his. He pulled the blanket up over both of them and exhaled over her shoulder.
“You didn’t change into the pajamas,” he whispered.
“If I get called in the middle of the night,” she whispered back. “I want to be ready to go.”
“Wake me up if that happens,” he said.
Kristie had no doubt he’d probably just sleep on the couch, so she couldn’t try to sneak out without telling him. Warmth spread through her with her back pressed against his chest, and everything inside her stilled and calmed.
“My dad owns a big animal and farm supply company in Phoenix,” she whispered. Everything was so much easier to say when she didn’t have to see Mission’s face. “Everyone knows the Higgins.”
The words came out bitter, and as Kristie let them go, she realized they didn’t have to live and fester inside her anymore once they’d been spoken.
“We were a picture-perfect family,” she said. “We went to church every week. My mother hosted book club. Our lawn won Garden of the Year three times when I was a teenager.”
“Wow. Three times?” Mission whispered.
A small smile came to Kristie’s face. “I’m six years younger than my older brother, and Dean didn’t go to college. He worked with my dad.”
“Mm.” Mission traced a slow circle on the back of her hand with his thumb, further calming her.
“They were thrilled when I got into veterinary school, and there was a place waiting for me to open my clinic in the back of the commercial store that my dad and brother ran when I graduated.”
“Sounds like a nice setup,” Mission said.
“It was a nice setup,” Kristie said. “Dad had a regular stream of customers coming in who owned farms and ranches, even if they were small or hobby-like. I had a lot of business.”
She stilled there, memories of her old life streaming through her like someone flipping pages in a book. Mission didn’t need to ask why she left, and she simply breathed into the space he gave her by remaining silent.
“One day, about a year after I finished school and everything was going well, Dad brought me a stack of prescriptions. Things used with livestock—steroids. Sedatives. Tranquilizers. Definitely things I had written prescriptions for in the past. They weren’t illegal, but they also weren’t for clients. ”
“I asked him what they were for, and he said he sold them to his friends on the side. That veterinary clinics could definitely do that. A vet doesn’t always have to administer every shot, you know.”
She heard the bitterness in her own tone, and how it had lowered to mimic something her father had said to her.
Mission’s arms around hers tightened, and Kristie realized that she had tensed as well. She breathed in and then out, trying to release her muscles. It only sort of worked.
“My name went on all the prescriptions. On all the orders. But I had no idea how the medications were being used. Then one of my dad’s family friends—that I had known my whole life; who we’d gone to church with for decades—came into the clinic, and he wanted more controlled substances—not for animals. I was a doctor; I could do it.
“I didn’t want to do it, and when I talked to my father about it, he said, ‘We’re helping people. That’s what you do as a doctor.’”
“I’m sorry, Kris,” Mission murmured.
“And of course , I want to help people—and animals. I still didn’t fill the prescriptions, and the next day, my dad and his friend came in together to confront me. I heard things like, ‘Don’t be so rigid, Kristie. You want your practice to survive, don’t you? We can go somewhere else.’
“Dean texted me all day long and told me this type of thing was normal. That everyone in the farming industry did it…. So I filled the prescriptions.”
She let out a shuddering breath, the story almost done. “And I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, kitten,” Mission said, pressing his lips against her earlobe.
“I didn’t feel right about it—whether it was legal or not—and I wouldn’t do it again.
When my dad confronted me, I told him he’d have to find someone else to write the prescriptions.
Dean tried to convince me, and I told him the same thing.
They came together, and I told them I would shut down my clinic and leave town. And you know what he said?”
“I don’t know, kitten,” Mission said.
“‘Then go. Good luck starting over somewhere else.’” Kristie could still hear the words as if they’d just been spoken to her.
“They told me I’d have to leave the state. That I wouldn’t be able to set up a practice anywhere in Arizona, and since my clinic was part of their family business and tied to their supply store, I lost everything.”
“Really?” Mission asked.
“I packed up my apartment with my dad and my brother standing outside the door, checking every box that went out. It was humiliating and horrifying. I was angry and hurt, and I thought, if I couldn’t trust my own father and brother, then I could never trust anyone ever again.”
“Kitten, that’s just not true.”
“I know that now,” she said. “But it’s still very hard for me to trust others. I learned that love and loyalty was conditional. If I did what Dad said, everything was great. If I didn’t—good luck out there.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He moved his hand to her hip and traced slow circles there. “Love and loyalty from family should not be conditional.”
“I clean the church, because my faith in God was shaken by what happened. How my mom and dad and brother were these pillars of our church, and yet doing questionable things in the dark.” She took a breath, not quite done yet.
“I clean, because it’s how I make peace with what I don’t understand. And it’s how I show God that I’m not perfect, but I’m also not broken by what happened.”
“I don’t think you’re broken, Kris,” Mission said. “I think you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
She turned to face him, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the powerful, woodsy scent of his clothing.
“I know I could bend more than I do,” she said. “I try to do everything the right way, no exceptions, even when it’s hard, and even when it hurts. And I know God doesn’t expect that of me. But it’s still hard for me to let go of it.”
“You’ve built an amazing clinic here,” Mission reminded her. “And you’ve got your baking friends, and so many people who love and admire and respect you.”
She nodded against his chest. “Lennie and Harper and Jocelyn were sent from God. They’ve taught me that friendship doesn’t have to come with strings. They don’t make me talk about my family. They just pass the brownies and make me laugh.”
Mission moved his hand slowly up and down her back. “I’m glad you have them.”
“For a while, I was convinced that there was something wrong with me,” she said. “That I wasn’t trustworthy or lovable or worth protecting.”
She pulled away slightly and looked up at him. Since she’d been in the dark for a while, her eyes had adjusted, and she could see him quite clearly.
“And it’s weird,” she said. “Because you seem to trust me. And you seem to like me. And you have done so many things to take care of me and protect me.”
Tears filled her eyes, and Kristie couldn’t go on, lest her voice would come out squeaky.
“I’m falling in love with you, kitten,” he whispered. “I like the fiery side of you that questions me and everyone else. Sometimes rigidity is a good quality.”
She nodded as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
Kristie settled into his embrace again, her story out.
Because it didn’t infect her anymore and the story didn’t have to run from one side of her mind to the other until she was simply too tired to stay awake, Kristie was able to close her eyes, exhale, and fall asleep in a single breath.