Chapter 5 #2
The rush of pain that filled his chest surprised him.
After all these years away, and all of his failures and successes, the sense that he didn’t belong here—even though he desperately wanted to belong—hurt like he’d been run over by a truck and then chucked into the white water rapids of the river below.
“Is that an eagle?” She pointed toward a huge bird with a wide wingspan that flew by a hundred yards away.”
He sucked in cool, mountain air and focused on this present moment, here with Holly. “Eagles have nests all over this area.” He pointed toward a mountaintop on his left. “Can you see that tall pole in the distance?”
She squinted and used her free hand over her eyes to shade some of the sunlight. “I do.”
“There’s a star at the top of the pole. It’s hard to see in the daylight, but on Christmas Eve, the star gets turned on and lights up the entire area. You can see it from both Kingsmill and Milltown.”
“I bet it’s beautiful.”
“It is. And it’s sad. Caleb’s wife left him, and he put up that star hoping it would help her find her way back home.”
“And did she?” Now Holly looked directly at him, her hand still within his grasp. “Did she find her way home to him?”
“No.” Luke stretched out his legs, appreciating the moment of peace. “I don’t know why she left. I have no idea what happened to her.”
“I’m sorry.”
He glanced at her, only to see compassion in her eyes. “Don’t be sad, Holly. It’s an old story. It’s Caleb’s story. Not yours. And not mine.”
She nodded and settled back to listen to the wind and watch the birds play in the wind.
And he still held her hand. He swallowed hard and tried not to think about the last thing that Caleb had said to him: In success and failure, always be brave. That way, if you fuck up, people will still see you as a hero.
While Caleb’s advice had actually worked, Luke had also discovered that covering up failure left behind the faint bitter taste of unworthiness. Since he hated self-pity and was terrible at self-reflection, he changed the subject. “Holly, are your parents still alive?”
She nodded. “They live in Ipswich. They weren’t happy about this move, but I’m sure they can figure out how to get to Virginia. After all, my father’s family is from somewhere in these mountains.”
“Are you close?”
Now she glared at him. But instead of scolding him for asking questions, she lowered her gaze and bit her bottom lip before admitting, “I like to think so.”
They settled into another long silence, and for the first time in years some of the hardness in his chest began to melt. “I love my brothers, but I’m not close to anyone except Abe.”
“Did you know that the twin bond is one of the hardest relationship bonds to break?”
“I’ve heard that.” He studied her beautiful profile, and discovered he was happy because she seemed at ease. Even more so than after they’d left Kev’s restaurant. “I’ve also heard that when one twin dies, the grief of the living twin is the hardest grief to manage.”
He honestly couldn’t imagine what would happen to him if something happened to Abe.
Although they’d both been gone from Kingsmill for a long time, there hadn’t been a single day where they hadn’t at least texted, if not called each other.
Even when Abe had been in Ranger School and deployed overseas, they still managed to check in with memes and emojis.
Not girl emojis. More like silly frog faces and poop emojis.
“That’s true about twin grief.” She spoke softly, tracking a group of blackbirds as they flew by. “My obstetrics specialty is in high-risk pregnancies, including twins and triplets. Even if one dies in the womb, it has a powerful impact on the surviving baby.”
“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but you seem awfully young to have gone to medical school and already have a specialty.”
“I graduated from college early.” She sent him a side-ways glance, as if embarrassed. “I’ll turn thirty-one next week.”
“Ahh.” He settled into his seat and moved her hand—still within his—from the bench to his stomach. “An older woman. I like it.”
“Not by much.” She wrinkled her nose. “You turn thirty in two months.”
He loved her annoyance at their age difference—a difference that wasn’t a big deal. “Before I fought forest fires and owned a surf shop, I was a lawyer.”
“I know.” She sent him a knowing look. “Kev told me. And I’m guessing you hated it?”
“I hated parts of it, especially the part where I worked for a big New York law firm and had to live in a city and wear suits. But I liked other parts.”
“What parts?”
“I liked sending guilty people to jail.”
She shook her head and moved closer, just enough so that their thighs touched. He kept her hand on his stomach, and his fingers over hers. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s what Jacob, and Caleb, used to say. As well as Abe, Trent, Ben, and Kane.”
After a long laughing moment, where they both ended up with tears in their eyes, she settled back into her seat, her thigh still touching his, her hand still within his.
After a few minutes of silence, where they watched the birds play and listened to the wind whistle, she said softly, “My parents sent me away to boarding school when I hit sixth grade.” She released a deep sigh, as if she’d never told anyone that before.
“I hated them for a long time. But by the time I got to Yale, I was resigned to the fact that they weren’t demonstrative people.
They showed their love by paying for the best schools and sending me to Europe during the summers. ”
“That sounds lonely.”
She squeezed his hand again. “It was. But then I went to medical school and didn’t have time to think about anything, especially my relationship with my parents.”
“Let me guess.” He finally released her hand and opened the bag he’d dropped on the ground. “You went to Harvard Medical School.”
“How could you know that?”
“Because of every movie I’ve ever seen about Yale girls who go to Harvard Medical School.”
Her laughter floated around him, making him wish this day would never end, and he pulled a tub out of the bag, along with two spoons. “Ready for a snack?”
Her eyes widened and she smiled. “Banana pudding?”
“Yep.” He placed the container between them, pulled off the lid, and handed her a spoon. “Dig in.”
After a few minutes of eating, she covered her stomach with one hand. “I can’t eat anymore.”
“All the more for me.” On impulse he added, “Let’s play a game.”
She glanced toward the trail that led to the truck. “Do we have time?”
“We have a few minutes.” He took another bite. “What game do you want to play?”
“Since we’re not driving, we can’t play Punch Buggy. Or that game with the cows, sheep, church, and the white horse.”
“I have no idea what that game is about.” He paused, mid-bite. “Is it a doctor thing?”
“No, it’s a kid-on-a-long-car-ride-with-her-parents game. I don’t remember all the details, but as you collect cows and sheep along the road, you don’t want to pass a church.”
“Why not?”
“Everything dies. But they get resurrected if you see a white horse.”
Luke laughed so loud, a few blackbirds behind them squawked and flew away. “I am never moving to Boston.”
“That’s good.” She sent him a sly smile. “Because I am never moving back.”
He smirked. “Let’s play my non-violent game. It’s called three questions, two truths.”
Despite saying she was full, she took another bite of pudding and licked her spoon. “Sounds like therapy.”
“Don’t overthink it. I ask you three questions and two of the answers have to be true. The third can be either true or false. Then you get your turn.”
“And if I don’t want to answer at all?”
“You chicken?”
She scoffed. “No. But I want to answer first to get it over with.”
He waited one long beat before asking, “What’s in the pink suitcase?”
She tilted her head and offered him a quizzical smile. “That’s your opener?”
“I think that huge pink suitcase is haunted. It has presence. It deserves an explanation.”
“Clothes,” she said, and then, after a pause, “and other things.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Nope. Not the lie. Just vague. Your turn. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”
He took another bite of pudding. At this rate, none of the tuxes would fit. “Senior year of college. Blind date with a girl who turned out to be my cousin.”
Holly’s beautiful brown eyes wide with surprise. Or maybe horror. “No.”
“Oh, yeah. Third cousin, but still weird. And we did not know until halfway through dinner when Nana Ruthie—she’s the town’s matriarch—texted me.
Of course all of my brothers knew and let me go through with the date.
Thank goodness Nana Ruthie figured out what was going on and stopped it before I kissed the girl goodnight. ”
“That’s incredible.” Holly’s laugh was warm and rolling, and it left him trembling, inside and out.
“Traumatizing,” he muttered, grinning anyway.
Suddenly, a raindrop hit his cheek, and he looked up at the sky.
A few clouds were forming, but they still had time.
He just wasn’t ready to go home yet. “Why did you leave your job at a Boston hospital? It has to pay more than what you’ll make in Milltown. ”
Her smile disappeared. “Too many ghosts.”
He let that sit, unsure if it was the lie or real until he decided it sounded like the truth. Finally, he’d had enough pudding. And since she wasn’t eating anymore, he put it away.
“Luke, if you’ve been away from home and all of your brothers for five years, why are you coming home now? Is it really for your cousin’s wedding?”
Luke’s jaw flexed until it ached. “Because I ran out of reasons to stay gone.”
Before they could start the third round, more raindrops fell.
She stood first, but when he rose, he made sure to stand as close as possible without touching her. Since he was taller, she looked up at him with searching eyes.
Gently, he traced her cheek. When she leaned into his touch, and didn’t release his gaze, he lowered his lips to hers.
She leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek, and he met her halfway.
The kiss was soft, tentative at first, then surer, like finding something you didn’t know you’d lost. It was gentle, more of a seeking than a possessing.
When her lips moved beneath his, body felt as if lightning had just passed through it.
Electricity rocketed through him, from his head to his feet, and his hands settled on her waist. He wanted more, but she’d have to set the boundaries. A good thing too since he had no boundaries. If it were up to him, they’d already be tangled in blankets with nothing between them.
A huge thunderclap sounded and a deluge of rain broke them apart.
For a moment, though, he held her waist and met her searching gaze.
It didn’t matter that they were getting wet, that the rain came down so hard, it threatened to scrape the skin off his arms. All that mattered was that for the first time in forever he didn’t feel so alone. With Holly, he felt seen.
Another thunderclap startled him, and they both looked up, as if surprised by the outside storm that matched his inside turmoil.
He grabbed the pudding bag, took her hand, and dragged her into the forest. Luckily, with the canopy cover, it was drier on the trail. It took a few minutes for them to get to the truck. Then another ten minutes for him to turn the truck around and head down the logging path.
Holly didn’t speak while he headed back toward the highway, and he was grateful. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought her the mountain. It hadn’t been his plan when he’d left the airport to make any stops, but when he’d hit the mountains, the idea had taken hold in his mind and wouldn’t let go.
Maybe it was Caleb’s ghost. Or maybe he was looking for a reason not to go home. Or maybe he’d just wanted to share his favorite spot—which Caleb had shown him when he’d been a young boy—with Holly.
He turned the truck back onto the paved highway, and fat, fast raindrops hammered the windshield. He clicked the wipers up a notch. The sky had gone from gray to gunmetal, the clouds hanging low over the mountain road ahead.
The cab was silent again, but it wasn’t the brittle kind anymore. It was full of something else. Something he couldn’t name. Something soft-yet-electric. Something powerful.
“Luke?” She reached for the dashboard. “What’s that?”
A moment later he heard screeching tires, the brittle shriek of metal crunching, and… screams.