Chapter Twenty-Two
The Harrington Cabin
Aly walked along the creek in the direction of the Harrington cabin. She’d texted Jill to meet her a ways away from the cabin so they could have some privacy.
Of course, it wasn’t just Aly here to break the news. Sam and Cal were along for this particular errand.
Aly hadn’t slept at all thinking about having to tell Jill this news. Even Landon had been up late, pacing and wondering what was wrong with Cal, considering this shouldn’t involve him at all.
But Cal had involved himself.
Aly looked over at him now as they reached the spot they’d agreed to meet Jill at. He had his hands in his pockets, that blank expression on his face. No, not blank. Lost.
She wanted to say something, to fix something, but she didn’t have the words. She didn’t understand why this should affect him as clearly as it did—and she didn’t think he knew.
Which worried her down to her bones.
Jill appeared, a dot of bright yellow against the last dregs of winter brown around them. It was cold again, but no new snow had fallen lately so everything was kind of a frozen muddy.
“Well, this can only be bad news, huh?” Jill smiled ruefully as she approached.
Aly crossed the distance between them and reached out for Jill’s hand.
“I got the death certificate,” Sam told her, not wasting any time or drawing out any dramatic pauses.
No, that wasn’t Sam, and Aly was grateful for it in this moment.
“The cause of death was clearly listed as a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
Jill’s grip on Aly’s hand tightened. “He … he killed himself?”
“That’s what the death certificate says,” Sam replied with a nod.
Jill glanced back up toward the cabin. “Oh, Grandma.” With her free hand, she rubbed her chest above her heart. “Oh … God. My dad. He can’t possibly know.” Jill shook her head.
Her eyes were shiny with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. She took a deep breath, let it slowly out.
Her gaze moved from the cabin to Sam, but she gripped Aly’s hand hard. “That has to be it, don’t you think?”
“It seems likely. I haven’t been able to find anything else about the incident, but I can keep poking. Keep trying. If that’s what you want.”
Jill studied Sam. “You don’t think I should,” she said quietly after a few moments.
Sam let out a long breath. “I don’t know what to think, Jill. I’m a big proponent of the truth, but this? Some traumas don’t have answers. They just are. Maybe, in this case, some things are better left alone.”
Jill nodded and didn’t say anything, so Aly wrapped an arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
“It’s sad, really sad, but she’s surviving it still,” Aly assured Jill. “She’s talking now. Ever since the trial, she’s been getting better. I think Sam’s right. Some things just are, and now you know.”
Jill nodded into her shoulder. Inhaled deeply. “Yeah, maybe it’s … maybe that’s all it is. And that’s all it needs to be.”
Aly wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true, but her gaze tracked to Cal.
She had the terrible feeling it wasn’t.
*
Sam traipsed back along the creek toward the Bennet Ranch with Cal by her side. They’d left Aly and Jill to wade through the more emotional components of the news and determine if they’d talk to Glenda about it or not.
Sam had considered staying, but she had work to do and she thought it best to get Cal out of here. There was something … off about him right now, and she didn’t mind dealing with it, but she didn’t think Jill needed it right now.
“No offense, Cal, but why the hell did you want to be there if you weren’t going to say anything?” Sam muttered.
“I don’t know.”
Sam looked at him out of her peripheral vision. She couldn’t read him, but when he was like this, he kind of reminded her of Nate.
So probably all that trauma rattling around. When it was Nate, she knew when to push and when to give him some space. With Cal? She didn’t have a clue.
She couldn’t quite work out why he’d feel this connection to a man he hadn’t really known’s suicide, but Cal had lots of strange connections to the Harringtons she didn’t quite understand.
It wasn’t her job to understand. So, she’d deposit him back at Honor’s Edge and let Nate figure out what the hell was going on with his brother.
“You know, if you’re looking for something to do, maybe you could help Nate figure out how to deal with that Hyatt woman.”
“I’m supposed to meet Hayes this afternoon to go talk to Mr. Everly. He wasn’t home when we tried yesterday.”
For a second, Sam was completely baffled. “But why? You and Jake can let it go now. We know the secret. The likely source of the trauma.” She gestured back toward where they’d come from. “No reason to keep poking into old deaths. Old wounds. Like we all said. Some things just are. Let them be.”
“No.”
Sam stopped walking and fisted her hands on her hips in front of him. “What do you mean no?” She didn’t want to come out and say this wasn’t his to poke into, but that was what she was thinking.
“I mean I’m not going to let it go.” Cal just walked right around her. “I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
For a moment, Sam just stood there, watching Cal stride toward her car. Then she scrambled after him. “Cal, you heard what Jill said.”
“Yeah, and this isn’t about Jill. It’s about me.”
Sam wanted to swear, but she didn’t. She kept her voice even and her question open-ended rather than accusatory. “Do you remember something?”
“No. Not in the way you mean. It’s just this …
feeling.” He gestured vaguely, looking off into the distance.
Toward the Bennet Ranch. Toward the part of it he’d seen his mother be murdered on.
“It’s the same feeling. I’m missing something.
Something important. It’s here.” He tapped his temple.
“Somewhere. I know it’s real now, Sam.” He met her gaze.
All that lost and haunted look gone—or if not gone, hidden under determination.
A fierce kind of certainty. “So I can’t turn my back on it. I won’t.”