Chapter 7
Oakley Kate
When my cell rings a little while after Mom and I get home from lunch, I answer without glancing at the caller ID. Terrible decision, because Noah’s protective big brother growl vibrates in my ear.
Deciding to play dumb, I withhold the groan and force a cheery voice. “Hello to you too, big brother. What do you mean?”
“You’re in Steele Valley,” he deadpans.
Damn it all to hell. I know Mama didn’t tell him. I made her swear to secrecy at least until after my next appointment. And Jett would have told me if she’d slipped up. Which means there’s only one source.
“You talked to Silas?”
“I did.”
“That blabbermouth,” I huff, flinging myself back against the couch cushions and immediately regretting it as pain ricochets up and down my leg.
“That’s the best insult you have for seeing your famous ex in the local supermarket during preseason?
” he asks, and I can hear the stupid grin on his face.
Noah never got the full story of why we split up, and if I have my way, he never will.
My brother has been dealt enough trauma in his lifetime. He doesn't need mine added to it.
“Why’s he running his mouth to you?”
“He wasn’t. Not about you, anyway. This is me giving you a heads up that I’ll be there this afternoon since you clearly can’t give me a straight answer.”
If I clench my jaw any tighter, I’m likely to crack a tooth. “Noah. I mean this with all the love I can offer, but you are not responsible for my well-being. I don’t need you to drive up here just because I had a change in plans.”
The air of the call shifts, and I almost—almost—feel guilty for how that probably came across. He has always felt responsible for me, more than a big brother should have to. A soft clicking sound comes through the speaker.
“Wait, is that your blinker? Are you already on your way out here? You are, aren’t you?”
“Oaks.”
“No, you know what? Fine. Come and join the party.”
He sighs heavily. “I’m coming to check on Silas. It wasn’t as much about checking up on you as checking in on him.”
A knot of worry forms in my stomach as a billion possible scenarios flood my mind. “Why are you checking in on him? What’d I miss?”
“If you tell him I said anything, I’ll steal that Voltage sweatshirt you love so much.”
“Noah—”
“I’ll be there by dinner. Let Mom know, would you? Love you.” And he hangs up.
Without thinking, I push to stand before falling back into my seat with a yelp.
“Stupid freaking leg,” I mutter before hollering across the house. It’s a good thing my mama loves me so much, because I think I’ve yelled more in the last few days than I did in most of my teen years. “Hey, Mom!”
“Yeah, honey?” she calls from somewhere down the hall. She’s probably doing my laundry even though I told her not to.
“Big brother found out I’m here. He said he’ll be here in time to eat.”
She pops her head around the corner wall with a stack of shirts in her hands and a smile that makes a part of my soul happy. “How perfect. Two of my babies under this roof tonight. Do you think I should call Trace? See if he wants to join us?”
I swear I don’t mean to let the snort of laughter escape, but it’s out before I can stop it. Mama cuts her eyes at me, but I just push as much fake innocence into my expression as I can.
“From what I’ve heard, I think Trace would much rather stay where he is than hang out with us.
” What I don’t tell her is that he’s holed up in a new bodyguard role with some modern-day princess and living in luxury while he does it.
The last thing our mother needs to worry about is another loved one risking his life in the line of duty.
Mama saunters into the living room after dropping my clothes inside the bedroom door. When she perches on the arm of the sofa closest to me, I tense, waiting on whatever nonsense she’ll spew this time.
“That look scares me,” I stage whisper.
She laughs. “What look?”
“That one! The one that says you’re about to jump into my personal business at my expense and your own enjoyment.”
“Oh, stop.” She waves me off. “I was just going to mention how cozy you and Silas looked by the protein powder earlier.”
Ripping the pillow from under my arm, I bury my face in it and groan. “Mom. Please, don’t.” I doubt she can understand the words since they’re garbled by fabric and fluff.
“Honey, I know you ended things with him all those years ago, but that man loves you.”
Screw my heart for skipping a beat and my head for hoping.
Peeking over the top of the pillow, I study my mom and wonder if she’s guessing or if she has insight I don’t. “How would you know that?” I ask hesitantly.
“Why else would that man check in with me every week to make sure I don’t need anything and then ask for an update on you?”
Mom is delusional.
Rolling my eyes, I sit back up. “You were like a second mom to him, and he’s still one of Noah’s best friends. Of course, he’s going to check on you when we aren’t here.”
“Sweet, sweet daughter of mine. Believe what you want. But that man makes many pretty pennies and still cuts my grass twice a month and makes certain my trash can gets to the road every Thursday.”
Emotion warms my cheeks, and I have to mentally scold my heart. Leaving Silas was for the best. I just didn’t expect neither of us to move on.
“I told you why we couldn’t stay together, Mama. He wanted a family. The white picket fence, five bedrooms, a backyard playground. I don’t want kids. Nothing is going to change that.”
My nails bite half-moons into my palms as I brave a glance at my mother. Some unknown emotion flickers across her face before she masks it and asks, “You don’t want kids, or you don’t want to get pregnant again?”
Why is it so hard to suppress the sob that wants to escape?
“Can we not?” I plead with her, but when Mama’s set on a topic, she doesn’t stray.
She glides her fingers over my scalp, gently scratching soothing circles.
“It’s a valid question,” she says as she settles against my side and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“You have every right to feel the way you do, especially after you lost your first pregnancy. Something like that affects everyone differently, and if you’re adamant you don’t want kids at all, I will never mention it again.
” She takes my hands in hers, her nimble fingers sliding between mine to loosen the tension resting there.
“But if you do want kids, there are other ways.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes as my mind cycles back to the nightmare from when I was nineteen.
I hate thinking about it. Silas and I were anything but ready—we had no business being parents back then—but when that test came back positive and we heard the heartbeat for the first time, nothing else mattered except the tiny life inside me.
Until it all ended. Until the heartbeat stopped.
Mama wipes away the tears gathering on my lashes, pulling me back to the present.
I hate that her eyes fill with sympathy—or maybe empathy—because she knows the truth as well as I do.
I’ve never kept anything from my mama. Even as a small child, I told her every secret, every crush, every time my brothers snuck out.
She’s the only one aside from Silas who knows the complete and utter hell that loss caused.
Because Silas Harrison is the only guy to ever hold a place in my heart. He is my heart. But I was too broken to see reason at the time.
“Not sure what your goal is here, but I’d like to not rip my heart out before Noah gets here.”
She leans into me again and holds me close, stroking my hair like she did when I was a kid. “I just want all my children to be happy,” she whispers.
Mama stands and wipes her hands along her thighs. “Well, guess I need to start fixing dinner if we’re having guests. How’s fried chicken, creamed corn, and some of those fresh rolls I made this morning sound?”
“Sounds delicious, Mama, but it’s just Noah. No need to go all out.”
“Oh, you let me have my fun, missy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I mumble as I lie down on the couch. With my brother on his way, I need all the rest I can get.
Instead, the little stereo in my head plays a snippet of a song I heard earlier on repeat. Except it isn’t a song I actually know, so the four seconds of melody just replay. Over. And over. And over, again.
Just as I finally push the soundbite out and start to drift, the doorbell camera chimes seconds before the front door opens.
“Knock, knock.” Noah’s voice carries from the entryway, the heavy wood door closing behind him. “Where y’all at?”
“You didn’t need to drive out here,” I holler, guiding him to the living room with my words.
“You sound like Silas.” He freezes when he spots me, my leg elevated and a melted icepack wrapped around it. “And, clearly, I did need to. What the hell, Oakley Kate? What’d you do? And why did no one tell me?”
“Be-cause you’re an overprotective oaf who butts into my life whenever you can?”
He huffs a laugh, his arms crossing over his chest. “Fine. That answers the last part. Mind filling me in on the rest?” He settles against the doorframe, looking every bit the man who took over the father roll when ours died.
“I’d rather not. Where’s Jett?” Surely she knows he came out here. They’re rarely far apart for more than a day.
“Nuh-uh. I’m not sharing anything until you tell me why you’re in Steele Valley when your itinerary—that you update for me, might I add—claims you should be in Washington State right now. Instead, you’re laid up on our mom’s couch with a boot and crutches.”
I groan and chuck a pillow at his head. Naturally, it misses and almost knocks a picture frame off the wall next to him. “The klutz in me finally caught up.”
“You’re a random bruise on your hip or run into a wall kind of klutz like Jett. Not one who ends up seriously hurt, sis.”
“It’s no big deal.” Sucking air between my teeth, I struggle to my feet and grab my crutches. I’m not in the mood to be talked down to. Noah is only an inch or two taller than my five-nine, so we’re eye-to-eye like this.
“No big deal?” he whisper-shouts, clearly not wanting to involve our mother. “What about your job? Do you at least get to file for workman’s comp?” His eyes scan my body, looking for anything else I might have hidden.
“Noah. I have it handled. I have another appointment next week.” No need to share that next steps depend on a new set of scans. I’d like to keep some autonomy until plans are concrete.
Mom’s voice drifts from the kitchen, her ears finally picking up the extra voice. Or maybe she just felt the tension rise. “Noah? Is that you?” She nearly bulldozes him with the force of her hug. “Oh, my baby boy. I missed you.”
“Hey, Mama. Just here to drop my things off. I’ll be back for dinner.” As he hugs her back, I notice the duffle at his feet.
“Where in the heck are you running off to, boy? You just got here.”
His eyes cut to me briefly before he gives Mama another squeeze. “Going to check in on Silas. I’ll be back.”
She looks back and forth between the two of us, and you know that look I said I didn’t like earlier? It’s back.
“Why don’t you invite him for dinner. You know I’ll make more than enough for the three of us. That boy needs all the help he can get.”
Her words strike a nerve, but I can’t pinpoint why. That combined with the pinched look on Noah’s face makes that knot of worry in my gut double in size.
I’m seriously missing some vital piece of information about the love of my life.
“Why is everyone worried about Silas? I talk to the guy at least once a month, and nothing’s seemed off. What am I missing?”
Noah is already shaking his head before I finish asking the question. “You want answers, ask him yourself.” Then he turns back to Mom. “I’ll ask, but don’t hold your breath.”