Chapter Thirty
“Congratulations. The article is a big hit,” her editor said.
Abby smiled and held the phone snug to her ear.
She sat back on her couch and squinted against the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window.
Her phone had been ringing off the hook with her friends and family calling with congratulations in regards to her story.
She’d managed to answer most of them, but some of them she had to resort to texting, because the biggest call, was the one she was on now. The one with her editor.
“The magazine would like to offer you another exclusive. Anywhere you want to go. Anywhere at all.”
Abby held her cheek, overwhelmed. “You’re kidding.”
“It’s your choice. All expenses paid of course. Only…you have to go within the year. Think you’ll be up for it?”
She’d had surgery on her knee two months before and she was healing nicely. But nevertheless, physical therapy was a bitch, and she was still not walking normally. “I hope so. With the knee and everything.”
“Well, how about this for incentive? You get to bring a companion.”
“A companion?”
“A travel buddy. Don’t tell me you haven’t got anyone in mind. Especially a certain someone from Alaska?”
Abby sank lower into the cushions. “I haven’t heard from her. Not since my surgery.”
“She hasn’t called to check up on you?”
“It’s been radio silence for months now.”
“Have you tried reaching out to her?”
“Once. No response.”
“I’m sure she has her reasons. I wouldn’t take it personally. You said she has someone she cares for, right? Maybe it has something to do with that.”
“Maybe.” But still, why couldn’t she at least say hello, how are you?
It wasn’t that difficult. She rested her hand on her abdomen and then lifted her shirt to caress her scar.
Whit had been right by her side in the hospital when she’d awakened from surgery.
She’d been there until she’d been released and given the all clear.
And then, after Abby left to return home…
virtually nothing, save for that one text the night before her knee surgery, which had simply read, GOOD LUCK.
She didn’t pretend to understand. The whole thing was crazy and though she knew Whit to be more of a quiet, reserved person when it came to her feelings, she never expected to get the cold shoulder from her.
“She’ll call, Abby. In the meantime, think about your story and your next destination. And oh, yeah, enjoy the heck out of this one’s success.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll holler at you later.”
Abby ended the call and checked her messages.
A text had come in while she was on the phone, but her heart sank as she realized it wasn’t from Whit.
She tossed the phone aside and sighed. She should be ecstatic right now with all the praise the article was getting, but all she could do was think about Whit.
She picked up the phone again and typed quickly with her thumbs, writing Whit another text.
This one asking if she was okay and why hadn’t she heard from her.
But then, right before she sent it, she changed her mind and tossed the phone away once again.
She wasn’t going to text her and then wait on pins and needles for a response that most likely wouldn’t come.
She just wasn’t going to do that to herself.
If Whit wanted to contact her, she would.
A light knock came from the door and Abby tensed.
She’d developed quite the nervousness to people arriving at her door, thanks to a visit from a grizzly and a crazed killer back in Alaska.
She rose, took the time to pull back the curtain to peer out the window, and then did a double take before opening the door.
Whit, in all her glory, stood on her stoop in a pair of worn jeans and a tight T-shirt. Her black hair hung below her shoulders, glimmering in the sun, while her whiskey eyes flashed. She looked so good Abby stumbled for words.
“Whit—you’re—a—”
“Here?”
“Yes. You’re here.”
“I am.” She briefly glanced down at her boots as if nervous. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Abby blinked. “Yes, yes. Please, come in.”
Abby moved aside and Whit entered, shoving her hands into her pockets as she did. She stood there in the foyer, looking uncomfortable.
Abby escorted her inside, and led her to the couch before sitting opposite her on the adjoining chair. She looked down at her tank top, suddenly mindful of her appearance. She hadn’t expected company, much less Whit. She must look a mess.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she said as she brushed imaginary crumbs from her top.
“Don’t apologize,” Whit said. “You have no reason to.”
“I just look—”
“You look beautiful. As always.”
Abby blinked some more. Whit continued, glancing at the glossy magazine on the coffee table.
“Read your article,” she said. “It’s good.”
“You read it, really?”
“I like what you wrote about Cozy. You really did it justice, without selling it as a tourist destination.”
“I tried not to. I fell in love with it, you know. Or maybe you don’t know,” she said softly, referring to more than just Cozy. “And I tried to respect the townspeople and their wishes.”
“You did.”
Silence.
“I also like the way you told our story. You were real. Honest. Even when it didn’t paint you in a good light. Even though bits of it were difficult to read. You still told the truth.”
“That’s my job.”
“Well, you’re good at it, Abby. Really good.”
“Thanks.”
Whit clapped her hands together and stared out the window and into the bright sunshine. Her irises lightened, and Abby was reminded of the color of that coppery creek. She suddenly longed to be back there, if only to sit and watch Whit fishing again.
Whit cleared her throat. “What you said about me. The way you painted me…I didn’t deserve all that. You made me out to be some sort of hero.”
“You are, Whit.”
“No, I’m not.” She met her gaze and Abby could see the pain there. The immense and terrible pain. She tried to touch her hand, but Whit drew away and stood. “I let him hurt you, Abby. And you almost died.”
Abby stood alongside her. “Whit, that wasn’t your fault. The police, they didn’t get to us fast enough. They’d found that body in the woods and then that stolen vehicle with Otter’s prints. They just didn’t get that information back in enough time to help us before Otter got there.”
“I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve protected you. Just like I should’ve done with my father.”
Abby did touch her this time. She gripped her hands. “Hey, I didn’t die. He didn’t kill me. I’m here and I’m okay. And your father…Whit, you couldn’t have saved him. You were a child and in the middle of the woods. There was nothing else you could’ve done.”
Abby had been told by one of the detectives just what all had happened to Whit all those years ago on that excursion with Otter and some other hikers. Her heart had broken for Whit, and she’d tried to talk to her about it, right after they’d learned that Otter had died, but Whit had refused.
“Whit, are you hearing me?”
Her shoulders fell and then shook. She tried to turn away to cry, but Abby wouldn’t let her. Instead, she pulled her into her arms.
“It’s not your fault. None of it.”
“I’m just so sorry, Abby,” she sobbed.
“As I said, you have nothing to be sorry for, Whit. Nothing. Got it?” She held her tight and let her cry. She knew it was a long time coming, wondering if Whit had ever cried over anything before.
They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, with Whit crying and Abby holding her. When she eventually stopped, she sniffled and wiped her eyes before speaking.
“I’m also sorry for not keeping in touch. I just—felt so responsible for you getting hurt. I couldn’t bring myself to speak to you.”
“Oh, Whit.” Abby wiped her tears. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Yes, I’m here.” She held her hands. “About that.” More tears flooded her eyes. “Bobby passed away.”
“Oh, no. When?”
“Last week. I’ve been…pretty upset over it. Wishing I could’ve done more for her, you know?”
“Of course. But you did all you could.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, Whit. I know you and I know you did.”
She sniffled some more. “I hope so. Anyway, I came to see you, soon after we had the service. We couldn’t bury her yet because the ground is frozen. But we had a service.”
“Was it nice?”
“It was. But her family didn’t come. Not even in death.”
Abby stroked her face. “Yes, they did. You were there. You were her family.”
“Yeah. Nancy and I were, you’re right.”
“See?”
Whit took a big breath and managed a smile. “It’s good to see you, Abby. Really fucking good to see you.”
“You too, Whit. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you.”
Abby held her again and then drew back to kiss her lightly on the lips.
Whit moaned softly, signaling her approval. “So, what do we do now?”
“I don’t know. You got any plans?”
“No, not a one.”
“You don’t have to be back in Alaska anytime soon?”
“Not if you aren’t going to be there.”
Abby smiled. “Well, then how about another adventure?”
“Another adventure?”
“This one, say in Egypt?”
“With you, Abby, I’d go anywhere.”
THE END