Chapter 31
Kayla
It’s too late to ride out. Even Colter knows that, though that doesn’t stop him from stalking the perimeter of the field like a restless animal, jaw tight, hands on his hips, glancing over at the horses every few minutes like he might saddle them up anyway.
The air has cooled with the sunset, a low breeze rustling through the tall grass and wildflowers that surround us.
We’re deep into Williams' land, with nothing but the sound of crickets and the occasional owl to keep us company. There’s no campsite.
No trail markers. No cell service. Just the three of us, a patchy fire, and our little tent.
“I should’ve never brought you here,” Colter mutters, not really to me, but to himself. “Too far from help. Too damn far.”
I watch from where I’m seated, wrapped in a flannel blanket, still barefoot, the hem of my jeans stiff with dried river water and mud.
My body aches in a dozen places, my head is pounding, but the worst part is the silence.
Ben hasn’t said much since we got him out of the water.
Just clung to me while I checked him over, then curled up in the crook of my arm and fell asleep right here in the grass.
He’s sleeping peacefully beside me, swaddled in Colter’s hoodie, his damp curls flattened against my leg.
“He’s okay,” I say softly. “We’re okay.”
His whole posture slumps. I know that look. Guilt and terror. A little boy’s worst nightmare is now playing out in the mind of a grown man.
“I’m going to take you guys to the clinic in Malta. We can ride out at sunrise.”
“Colter.” I keep my voice gentle. “If we were in trouble, we’d already know. He’s fine. I’m okay.”
“You weren’t okay twenty minutes ago,” he snaps. “You couldn’t even walk. You were coughing up water and shaking so hard I thought you were seizing.”
“I was in shock,” I say calmly. “And now I’m not.”
He runs a hand through his hair and turns away from me, muttering a string of curses I don’t catch. The fire crackles quietly behind him. The horses stand a ways off, lazily swatting flies with their tails.
I pull the blanket tighter and look down at Ben. His face is peaceful now. Tired. But peaceful.
“You don’t get it,” Colter says finally, voice hoarse. “I heard the splash. I heard you cry for him.” He turns, eyes locked on mine. “You have no idea how scared I was.”
I stand, blanket still wrapped around my shoulders, and walk to him. “I do,” I say. “Because it happened to me first.”
His eyes darken.
“I turned around, and he was gone,” I whisper. “Just gone. I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I just moved.”
“You can’t swim,” he says, still raw.
“I don’t care.” I put as much conviction into my voice as possible. We can’t keep going in circles, lopping the conversation over and over again. “I would do it again.”
He lets out a sharp breath, like I’ve stabbed him. Then he closes the distance and cups the back of my neck, his thumb brushing under my jaw. “Jesus, Kayla. I almost lost both of you.”
“But you didn’t.” I lean into him, grounding myself in the solid wall of his chest. “We’re okay. We’re all okay.”
I pull him down to the blanket where Ben sleeps, and we sit together in the flowers. The scent of crushed grass and late-summer bloom surrounds us. He wraps an arm around me, and I tuck myself beneath it, warm against his side. Ben stirs but doesn’t wake.
“I don’t think I’ve said thank you yet,” I whisper, looking down at the sleeping little boy.
Colt startles. “What could you possibly have to say thank you for?”
“For letting me into this family. For taking away the loneliness that was drowning me.”
“It wouldn’t have been long until someone in Castlebrook pulled you into their circle. I’m just happy I was first.”
“I’m not talking about Castlebrook. Well, not just Castlebrook.
” I lean my head back, dropping my shoulders, and I stare up at the stars.
“Growing up the way I did was lonely. Sure, I had Fletch and Faith, but they also had each other, you know? They were their own little unit. They understood each other in ways I never could. I wasn’t alone, but I was lonely.
” I look away from the stars, into his eyes. “Until you.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifts, pulling me tighter, then reaches over and brushes a strand of damp hair from my cheek. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he says, voice rough. “Truth is, I think I was pretty lonely too, until you came around.”
“Seems like we’re both pretty lucky to have found each other.”
He leans his forehead against mine. “You’re really not leaving, are you?” His eyes peer into mine, asking me to confirm what he already knows, to vanquish his biggest fear.
My heart stumbles. “Not unless you make me, but considering you scammed me into moving in with you, I think we’re both safe.”
“How did you know?” He rears back, looking at me in trepidation.
“Um, because you told me?” In the random Montana valley, the only light we have comes from the fire and the sky.
Something flickers across his face before it shutters away, but in the dark, it’s hard to tell just what it was.
“You said I was already moved in, and you were just waiting for me to figure it out.”
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re right. I did say that.”
“I know,” I whisper, cupping his cheek. “Are you doing okay?”
He kisses me, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that says I’ll never take you for granted again. That I’m still scared, but grateful.
“I’ve never been better,” he breathes, pulling back. My eyes slowly flicker open, taking their time after the kiss. Ben makes a sleepy sound and shifts in his sleep, curling tighter. We both look at him.
“He’s gonna remember this day forever,” I say.
“Yeah,” Colter murmurs. “So will I.”
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Ben Williams had a near-death experience yesterday when he fell into the river on the Williams property. Thankfully, town superhero Kayla Carson saved the day, pulling him from the rapids.
Colter Williams
How the hell did you already hear about that, Sue?
Sue Cruthkins
Mind your own business.
And buy that girl a cookie for me.
“I will buy you coffee, I promise,” Colt squeezes my thigh as he pulls into an empty parking stall in the emergency clinic’s parking lot. “Just stop with the teacher glare, please. It’s like I’m staring down a charging bull.”
“I’m gonna give you a second to rethink that one,” I narrow my eyes, giving him the exact look he’s talking about.
He breathes in, air whistling between his teeth. “Yeah, okay. That was a stupid thing to say.”
“Really stupid,” Ben agrees from the backseat. Eight years old and he’s already smarter than his father.
“Coffee and a donut,” Colt amends, smiling sheepishly.
“Coffee and a Dunkaroo pie from the bakery,” I reply, crossing my arms. There are only two days in the weekend, and I haven’t gotten to sleep in once.
Not once. And we’re just not going to mention the fact that it’s currently the summer and I can sleep in during the week if I want to. That’s just not the point.
True to his word, Colter had forced us up the second the sun started rising so that we could get back in time to make it to the clinic. As if they’re gonna be able to do anything about a near-drowning experience that happened yesterday.
Not to mention the clinic in Castlebrook would have sufficed.
Not according to Colt, though. Dr. Harborrower is old, half blind, and senile, so it’s best to drive into Malta at the crack of dawn, so they can make sure I don’t die from nearly drowning—yesterday.
I tried to argue my point to Colt, but he wouldn’t hear it, so off to Malta we went. A family outing.
“Deal.” He scrambles out of the truck, probably not wanting to wait around and say something else stupid. I’ve been cranky all morning, and it’s been slowly seeping into Ben’s attitude, too.
Sue me.
Almost dying is exhausting work, and I just wanted to sleep long enough that my joints stopped aching, but Colter had other plans. He cut the camping trip short and forced both of our grumpy butts up onto our horses, claiming it’s better to be safe than sorry.
What a stupid fucking saying.
I bet they recommend extra sleep and to take it easy for the next few days.
I bet they don’t recommend waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to ride on a horse for hours.
“I want to walk with Kayla,” Ben tells his father, scooting around the truck to grab my outstretched hand.
“That’s fine,” Colt mumbles, dropping his own hand that was waiting for his son to grab. “Totally fine.”
And okay, I feel a little guilty.
“Thank you,” I offer a half-assed smile when he holds the door open for us, extending an olive branch while minimizing the harm of whiplash. He takes the peace offering with a grain of salt, bowing his head lightly in reply.
“I booked an appointment for the two of you while you got changed. Why don’t you guys sit down, and I’ll check you in.”
“Look! They have a Captain America comic,” Ben pulls me away from Colt before I can even say anything. “Can you read it to me?”
“Why don’t we read it together?” I ask, picking up the comic.
“Is this your way of tricking me into school work in the summer?” He asks, too smart for his age.
“Okay, fine, I’ll read it,” I cave, not having the energy for the teacher tricks.
“Sweet!” He settles into the plastic chair, wiggling his bum exaggeratedly as he gets comfy. Colt drops into the chair on my other side, and suddenly, I find myself reading quietly to both Williams' boys.
I read through the first few pages, stumbling only when I try to mimic Captain America's gruff voice and end up sounding like a constipated pirate. Ben giggles so hard he snorts, and even Colt lets out a low chuckle beside me. I shoot them both a glare, but it’s half-hearted and lazy.
I’m too tired to pretend I’m mad. My bones still feel heavy, like they haven’t caught up with the fact that I survived.
Ben leans his head against my shoulder without a word, eyes flicking across the panels like he's trying to memorize them.
“Cap is kinda lame,” Ben mutters. “I like Iron Man better.”
Colt leans forward, eyes wide with mock horror. “You take that back.”
Ben grins. “No way. Cap’s just a really buff hall monitor.” He studies his father like he’s coming to some sort of life-altering conclusion. “He’s kinda like you!”
“Oh, he’s your kid, alright,” I mumble under my breath, and Colt’s mouth curves.
His head sits a little higher on his shoulders after his son basically calls him a superhero, and I know he’s gonna be bragging about this to Jake as soon as he’s back to work.
It seems to completely surpass him that his son did not mean it as a compliment.
Our story time is interrupted shortly after when the nurse calls our names. Ben grabs my hand again like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and we follow the nurse down the hallway. Colter trails slightly behind, hands stuffed in his pockets.
The nurse leads us into a small exam room with crinkly paper on the bench and faded cartoon posters on the walls. Ben hops up onto the bench without being asked, legs swinging, still clutching the comic like it’s a comfort item.
I lean against the counter, arms folded. Colt lingers near the door, his gaze flicking from me to Ben and back like he’s not sure what to do with himself.
“Have a seat, Dad,” I mutter, nodding to the extra chair in the corner. “They’re gonna want to ask you a million questions anyway.”
The nurse takes Ben’s vitals, checking him over while making gentle small talk about his favorite superhero. He answers easily, bright and animated, like he doesn’t have a single worry in the world. I envy that kind of resilience.
“And you, Sweetheart?” the nurse turns to me after jotting down her notes. “You were in the water too?”
I nod. “Yeah. Pulled him out. Just got banged up a little.”
She frowns. “Well, let’s check you both out anyway, just to be sure. We’re gonna send you both for X-rays, just to make sure there’s no fluid in your lungs, and then the doctor will check on the bumps and bruises.”
Both Ben and I are in and out of our x-rays in record time, faster than any doctor I ever had to see in Chicago. The doctor goes through the motions, asking questions and checking reflexes. He checks over our X-rays, giving us the all clear on anything life-threatening.
Just like I predicted, the official advice is rest, fluids, and maybe a warm bath. No sunrises or saddles required. The appointment wraps, and the three of us trail back out into the waiting room, quiet and sore in different ways.
“I owe you coffee,” Colter says once we’re back in the truck, voice low and a little rough.
“And a Dunkaroo pie,” I remind him. “And a cookie from Sue.”
He nods. “I’ll throw in a nap, too. I’ll drop you off at home, and then take Ben to get the pie with me.”
Ben pipes up from the backseat. “Can we get donuts too?”
Colter glances at me. I raise an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to get me one too?”
“I’ll try,” Ben mumbles, little eyebrows furrowing. “But I might get hungry on the way home.”
“Well, it’s the effort that counts,” I smother my laugh in my shoulder. Colt’s moustache twitches, but he’s had more experience repressing his laughter. I’m still learning.
“Alrighty then. Pie and donuts it is.”
I lean my head back against the window, letting the warmth of the sun bleed in. I fall asleep in the truck, and I wake up in our bed, a donut waiting for me on the bedside table.