Chapter 8
Kim
Sleep hadn’t come easily, even with the warm fuzzies of family time. Around three a.m. the monkeys in my head started in on me.
I thought about the documents. There were edges where the waxed canvas hadn't protected as well as it should have.
There would be more discoloration creeping in from exposure to air after a hundred and seventy years of sealed darkness.
They had weeks, maybe a month before the damage became irreversible.
The university library had proper archival facilities. Climate control, acid-free storage, specialized preservation equipment. Everything these documents needed to survive another century.
I told myself that's why I'd been sitting here for two hours, unable to move.
"You've been staring at those papers since breakfast." Neil's voice came from the workshop doorway. "Everything okay?"
"I need to take them back." The words came out before I could stop them. "To the university library. They need proper care."
He was silent for long enough that I looked up. His face showed nothing, but his eyes were unreadable. "When?"
"Today."
"You're going back to him." Still that blank expression, but I could hear the strain underneath.
"I'm going back to save the documents. And to not get fired." I gestured at the papers. "I want to leave on my own terms. I want to get my life in Boston in order before coming back here to work on this project. It would look better if I quit instead of being fired."
Neil moved into the workshop, his boots heavy on the floor. "Is that what this is really about?"
"What else would it be?"
"You tell me." He stopped on the other side of the desk. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're looking for a reason to leave."
The accusation stung. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" His voice was level, almost conversational, which somehow made it worse. "You’re acting like you're already halfway gone."
“I’m not,” I said. Yesterday, watching his entire family mobilize to help me fight my professional battles, I'd realized what I was doing to him. To all of them. “Your family spent their entire evening dealing with my problems. All for someone they met one day ago."
"They did it because they wanted to."
"They did it because you asked them to. Because I'm your problem now."
"You're not a problem."
"I'm unemployed, living in your house, eating your food, dragging your family into my professional disasters." I stood, needing movement. "How long before that gets old? How long before you realize I'm just taking up space in your life?"
"Is that what you think?" Neil's voice had gone flat. "That you're taking up space?"
"I know I am. We've known each other for just a few days, and I've already disrupted your entire life."
"Days." He repeated the word like it tasted bitter. "You keep saying that. Like it's supposed to mean something."
"It does mean something. It means I'm making life-altering decisions based on hours of... I don’t know what?"
I watched him absorb that, then saw his resignation.
"So that's what this is. A fantasy you're waking up from."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." He turned toward the door. "When do you need to leave?"
The shift in conversation felt like whiplash. "Neil—"
"The roads are still bad. Mud and washouts from all the rain. I can drive you to town. You can catch a bus to the train station." His tone was businesslike, distant. "The documents are yours to do with what you want."
"No, Neil. They’re not.”
“I don’t’ care anymore.”
“Neil,” I breathed. This wasn’t what I wanted. “I’m coming back.”
“For your project.”
“For you.”
“Yeah, right. When do you want to leave?”
“I don’t want to leave,” I said, frustrated.
He just raised an eyebrow.
“The sooner I get back to Boston, the sooner I can return.”
"I'll be waiting in the truck.”
"Neil, please. I'm trying to do the responsible thing here."
"Right. Responsible." He didn't turn around.
I SPENT THE NEXT TWO hours packing the documents for travel. My overnight bag sat by the door. I hadn't brought much to Vermont in the first place. A few changes of clothes, toiletries, my laptop. It all fit in one duffle.
Three days of life packed in ten minutes.
I heard voices from the kitchen and recognized Tonya's laugh. My stomach sank. Of course they'd come. Of course, Neil had called them.
When I emerged from the workshop, Kevin and Tonya were sitting at the dining table. At the same table where I'd eaten my first real meal in this cabin.
"Kim." Tonya stood, her face sympathetic. "Neil said you decided to head back to Boston."
"Just to handle the documents and the job situation. It's the responsible thing to do."
"Is it?" Kevin's voice was gentle but direct. "Or is it the safe thing?"
I wanted to argue, but the question hit too close to truth.
"The documents need proper archival care," I said. "The university library has the facilities. And Pemberton will fire me if I don't show up. I have student loans, an apartment lease, responsibilities."
"You also have a discovery that could rewrite Underground Railroad history." Tonya moved closer. "You have documentation that proves your research was right all along. And you have people here who want to help you fight for it."
"I know. I’m coming back."
Kevin looked at me doubtfully.
“I want to make sure the original find is protected. It’s too important to risk. The library can do that. I need closure on my own life before I can start my new one.”
“I understand that,” Tonya said and looked at Kevin meaningfully.
He reluctantly nodded. “You have to understand, abandonment isn’t easy on any of us after what we experienced when we were boys.”
“I’m not abandoning anyone,” Kim said. “Why won’t Neil believe me?”
“Experience,” Kevin said.
“I need to do this on my own terms. I can’t have you fight my battles for me.”
"That's what family does," Kevin said. "We show up when it matters."
"I've known you for one day."
"Doesn't matter. You're Neil's. That makes you ours."
The kindness in his voice made my throat tight. This was exactly the problem. These people barely knew me, and they were ready to disrupt their lives, take on my burdens.
"I appreciate that. More than I can say. But I need to handle this myself. I need to stop being everyone's problem."
"You're not a problem," Tonya said. "But you’re running scared."
I wanted to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat.
"Where's Neil?" I asked instead.
"In the truck." Kevin stood. "Kim, before you go, you should know Neil doesn't let people in. Not easily. He let you in. That doesn't happen. And if you leave now, it's going to confirm every fear he's ever had about himself."
"That's not fair to put on me."
"I'm not putting anything on you. I'm telling you what's true." He headed for the door, Tonya following. "We'll be at home if you need anything. Either of you."
After they left, I stood in the empty cabin and tried to ignore the voice in my head that said I was making a terrible mistake.
THE DRIVE DOWN THE mountain was brutal. The roads had been damaged worse than I'd realized, mud and washouts making the journey treacherous. Neil navigated it all with the ease of someone who knew every turn, every dangerous spot. But he didn't speak.
I tried once. "Neil, I'm not—"
"Don't." His voice was rough. "Whatever you're about to say, just don't."
So, I sat in silence and watched the mountain disappear behind us.
The bus station in town was small, just a covered bench and a schedule board. The next bus to the train station left in forty minutes.
Neil helped me down from the truck. Then he stood there, hands in his pockets, looking at everything except me.
"Thank you," I said. "For driving me. For everything."
"Stop thanking me."
"I don't know what else to say."
"Then don't say anything." Finally he looked at me, and the pain in his eyes made my chest ache. "You're doing what you think you need to do. I get it."
"Do you? Because you haven't said more than ten words since this morning."
"What do you want me to say, Kim? That I understand why three days isn't enough? That I'm fine with you going back to a job that's been killing you for six years?" He shook his head. "I'm not going to make this easier for you by pretending it doesn't hurt."
"It hurts me too."
"Then stay." The words came out raw. "Stay here. Let Jess handle the legal stuff. Let the Vermont Historical Society take the lead. Build something new instead of going back to something that never valued you."
"I can't just—"
"Can't what? Take a risk? Trust that three days can mean something real? Believe that you're worth more than footnotes in someone else's research?"
Each question landed like an indictment because he was right. About all of it.
"We barely know each other," I said, but even I could hear how weak it sounded.
"I know you handle rare books like they're made of glass.
I know you light up when you talk about history.
I know you make this sound in your sleep like you're dreaming about something good.
" His voice dropped. "I know you feel like home.
And I know that terrifies you because you don't think you deserve to take up that much space in someone's life. "
Tears burned my eyes. "Stop."
"Why? Because I'm right?" He took a step back. "You're leaving because you're scared. Not of Pemberton, not of losing your job. You're scared of being someone's choice. Of mattering enough that losing you would hurt."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" He turned toward his truck. "Your bus leaves in half an hour. I'm not going to stand here and watch you get on it."
"Neil, please."
"Please what, Kim? Please wait while you figure out if I'm worth staying for? Please be here when you decide the professional world isn't enough?" He opened his truck door. "I'm not going to be your backup plan if Boston doesn't work out."
"You're not a backup plan."
"Then what am I? Because from where I'm standing, I'm the guy who wasn't enough to stay for." He climbed into the truck. "Take care of yourself, Kim. I hope you find whatever you're looking for."
I stood there, documents in my arms, watching his truck pull away. I could run after him. Could shout for him to stop. Could choose love over fear, messiness over invisibility. But my feet stayed planted on the concrete.
His truck disappeared around a corner, and I was alone with my responsible choices and the growing certainty that I'd just made the worst mistake of my life.
“I’m coming back,” I said mournfully.
THE BUS RIDE TO THE train station took an hour. The train to Boston took four more. I spent the entire time staring out the window, documents on the seat beside me, trying not to think about Neil's face when he drove away.
My apartment in Boston smelled stale when I opened the door. Nothing had changed. My books on the shelves, my notes scattered across the desk, the same coffee cup I'd left in the sink before this trip.
Everything was exactly as I'd left it.
Except I was different. Or I had been, for three days. Now I just felt hollow.
I called the Vermont Historical Society before I could lose my nerve.
The director was professional and interested, asking detailed questions about the discovery.
Yes, they'd be very interested in partnering on the research.
Yes, they understood the significance. Could I bring the documents by their offices tomorrow?
I said yes. Made the appointment. Hung up feeling like I'd accomplished something important.
It didn't feel important. It felt empty.
My phone rang. Pemberton's number.
"Dr. Fox. I trust you're back in Boston?"
"I am. I have the documents."
"Excellent. We'll want to examine them immediately. Bradley is quite excited about the discovery. I've arranged for him to take the lead on documentation and publication."
My stomach dropped. "Bradley? I'm the one who found them."
"Yes, and you'll be credited in the acknowledgments. But Bradley has more experience with Underground Railroad research, and given your recent employment difficulties, the university feels he's better positioned to ensure proper academic standards."
"My employment difficulties? You mean the job abandonment charge you threatened me with?"
"Kim." His voice turned patronizing. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."
He didn’t know just how difficult I could be. “I’ll stop by your office once I get in.” Once I secured the documents in the library and made sure they were properly taken care of. Then Dr. Pemberton was in for the surprise of his life.