Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
INDY
That had to have been hard for Summer.
To lay the worst memories of her life out in front of two strangers, and have everything be questioned.
The whole time she spoke I just wanted to wrap her up and hold her, take care of her.
Now that I know what she was running from, it doesn’t change how I feel.
She survived something terrible that wasn’t her fault, and now someone is trying to ruin what she’s found here.
Hopefully she’ll open up more now that I know, though not tonight. Tonight I plan to draw her a hot bath with lots of yummy smelling things and allow her the space to relax, and maybe even forgive herself. I didn’t realize she was carrying the weight of someone else’s choices so close to her heart.
It makes me feel even worse that I acted like an ass the first few times we interacted. Twatla honks when we walk up, and my phone rings.
“It’s Papa,” I tell her, unlocking the door to my cabin, and telling her to go on in. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Hey Papa,” I answer, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can pet the goose that thinks she’s a cat. “Is everything okay?”
“Three campers couldn’t be picked up,” he sighs, “River’s gonna stay, along with Zaye, Santi, and Kiri for the next couple of weeks to help out. Plus the classes that we’ve added for horseback riding are still operating.”
“They don’t have to do that–“
“Trust me BeeBee, they know,” he cuts me off, “I’m callin’ because the sheriff’s gonna put a car up at your cabin for the night. They’re only there to make sure you’re safe.”
“I’ll tell Summer,” I nod as if he can see me.
“Love you,” he says before hanging up.
Looking out over the lake, I spot someone on the beach. That makes no sense. No one should be alone right now with everything going on. Shaking my head and blinking a few times to try and refocus I look again, but they’re gone.
Assuming I’m just tired, I pick up Twatla and nuzzle into her feathers, “I need a bed, Twatla. Mama’s startin’ to see things.”
Summer’s standing in the middle of the cabin, with her bag at her feet. Her lips turn down and her eyes blink when she sees me, before she inhales a broken breath. Then she’s crumpling to the floor, tears streaming down her face.
Putting Twatla in her bed, I walk over and join Summer on the floor. Wrapping my arms around her, I don’t say anything. I don’t find the need to. I simply hold her in my arms, unbothered while sitting on the floor, and let her get out all the emotions she’s been burying for the past two years.
I’m not sure how much time passes before she sniffles and looks up, but when our eyes meet, I feel like I see the real her for the first time. Not just the woman she pretended to be behind her sly words and charming looks.
The real Summer.
Her bright blue eyes, rimmed in red, make my heart break. There’s so much grief there, so much guilt and anguish that she’s carried alone for far too long.
Getting up, her hands squeeze my arms and I smile down at her, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Freckles.”
She nods and watches as I make my way over to the tub. Throwing in some bath salts and herbs, I turn the water to almost scalding and then help her up off the floor.
“Enjoy a nice bath,” nudging her to the tub, she doesn’t protest. Peeling off her clothes, as if on autopilot she steps in and sinks up to her shoulders. Her glasses fog, and I gently pull them from her face, folding them and putting them beside the sink.
Walking into the kitchen and pulling cookie dough out of the fridge, I preheat my oven and place the dough on lined sheets. Everyone loves cookies, right?
My mind won’t shut off as I move around the kitchen. All the things happening around here. Two people missing—possibly kidnapped and being held somewhere.
I remember the notes Summer’s been getting, and if I were in her shoes, I probably would have done things differently.
Then again, I don’t have her past, and it’s easy to pass judgement on others when you have no real experience with what they’ve endured.
I’m trying not to worry about whatever -or whoever- I saw outside on the beach, or the thump from the other day.
Easier said than done.
The timer goes off, and I hear the water slosh in the tub. Looking over, Summer’s eyes are fixed on me and I smile wide to try and hide my tumbling thoughts. “Cookies?”
Her lips tug up into a small smile and I return it, before taking the cookies out of the oven to let them cool. Walking over to Summer, I get down on the floor and lean against the lip of the tub.
“How are you feelin’?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. “Scared.”
That’s not what I expected from her, she’s always so calm, so collected, so assured.
“What if Finn and Molly are dead?” She asks, closing her eyes and rolling her lips between her teeth. “Their deaths will be my fault too… just like Val’s.”
“No,” I stop that train of thought before it can run off the tracks. “Whoever is doin’ this, it’s on them, not somethin’ you did or didn’t do.”
She looks at me then, and I feel like I can see the hope in her eyes that I’m being honest. Like she’s gone so long feeling scared and unloved, and now she’s finally letting herself believe she can have it again. Leaning forward, she presses her lips to mine.
This kiss isn’t like the others we’ve shared. It’s soft and tender, and I hope it means she’s willing to stay and maybe fall in love with me.