Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  I try to swallow through my dry mouth, tears welling. “I felt it,” I whisper again.

  I felt him and how it was perfect and how I wanted him to fold me up inside him forever. It was a perfect moment when all of me aligned for one fucking instant, and I felt full and strong. Those moments are rare.

  His lips twitch, his hands slowing, but then he finds his focus again, securing the bandage around my arm.

  I reach out.

  Slowly, I lift my right arm, almost like I’m holding out my hand for a dog to sniff when I greet it.

  I feel him still as the back of my hand glides up his face, and I hold my breath.

  I just want to know it was real. I was his in those moments.

  Finally, he closes his eyes, exhales, and leans into my hand, giving in.

  A lump lodges in my throat, but I hold back the tears as I caress his temple.

  “I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” I tell him. “I’ll leave, okay? You don’t have to fear me.”

  His eyes open, his brows etched with pain, but he doesn’t look at me.

  “I’ll leave. I won’t ruin this home for you. I won’t hurt you,” I whisper. “I promise I’ll leave.”

  Just let us have this time.

  He shakes his head, and I don’t know what he’s trying to say now, but just when I think he’s going to jump to his feet and leave, his head falls, sinking into my lap.

  I still, looking down at him. His black hair that’s not really black now that I can be close enough to him to see it’s a shade above. The tattoo stretching from under his ear and going down his neck vertically, but even this close, the cursive is still too fine to read.

  It doesn’t matter. Kaleb has things to say. He just doesn’t need everyone to hear.

  Sitting there, I grip the edge of the tub, something in my chest feeling like it’s splintering apart as he struggles for air with his head bowed.

  He blurs in front of me as my eyes fill with tears. It’s not going to be easy to leave ...them.

  I swallow. A feeling, not a place.

  Loving them has made something inside me wake up, and I don’t want to go back to being who I was. I might wish this change could’ve happened differently, but some of us don’t learn from the heat. We need the fire.

  Reaching out, I glide my hands down his back and bend over, wrapping my arms around him.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, savoring this.

  But just then I hear heavy footfalls run up the stairs and a shadow falls across the bathroom.

  “What the fuck happened?” someone yells.

  I pop my eyes open. Jake.

  I sniffle, drying my eyes as I sit up but avoid his gaze as he looms at the door. Kaleb rises and backs away from me.

  What the hell is Jake doing back already? What do I tell him?

  But he doesn’t seem to notice that Kaleb and I were embracing.

  He rushes over. “Jesus Christ…” He takes my arm, gently lifting it up to inspect the bandage and then diving down to swipe the bloody one off the floor.

  “It’s okay,” I assure him.

  He shoots Kaleb a glare anyway. “I leave you alone for one night!”

  Kaleb returns the look, and my stomach immediately sinks. God, they look alike when they’re angry.

  But then Kaleb quirks a smile, and I’m not sure why, but it pisses Jake off more, and he jerks his head, ordering his son out.

  Kaleb leaves, not sparing me another glance.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him again once Kaleb is gone. “The animals are fine. I’m fine.”

  Jake slams the door and comes over, kneeling down in Kaleb’s place and unwrapping the bandage to take a look. His cheeks and nose are wind-burnt, and the scruff on his jaw is a little darker than the hair on his head.

  “A fire started in the middle of the night,” I tell him. “Thank goodness we woke up. We were able to extinguish it, but I got roughed up when I tried to get Shawnee out of the barn. It wasn’t the boys’ fault.”

  He tosses the bandage and inspects the stitches. “Jesus Christ,” he bites out. “Goddamn them.”

  “They didn’t do this,” I say. “They took care of it, though.”

  He shakes his head, continuing to look at the wound. Rising up, he grabs a washcloth off the shelf and wets it, while also taking the petroleum jelly out of the medicine cabinet.

  I look up at him, worry coiling its way through my stomach. “You’re back early.”

  If he’d showed up ten minutes ago, he would’ve found me in Kaleb’s bed.

  If he’d come back last night, he…

  It’s not something I planned on hiding from him, but I don’t want him thinking we reveled in his absence either or that this was planned.

  “I got turned around,” he tells me, setting the items down and spilling a couple ibuprofen into his palm and handing them to me. “The snow was just too deep and the wind too strong. I wasn’t going to make it another night out there.”

  He comes down, dropping to one knee, and cleans around the stitches, adding some petroleum jelly as I swallow the pills.

  I stare at him, his lips a foot away as he dresses my wound. “Something else happened last night,” I whisper.

  He slows for a moment but then continues, not looking at me.

  “After the fire…” I go on. “With the boys.”

  I don’t blink and neither does he as he avoids my gaze. My stomach churns.

  “I…”

  “Both of them?” he asks, looking down to pick up some gauze he dropped on the floor.

  “I…um…”

  I can’t say it, though, and he doesn’t make me.

  His lips tighten as he wraps my arm. “Were they good to you?”

  My eyes water, and I nod. He’s not yelling. I’m not sure if I’m hurt that he’s not jealous, or thankful he’s not disgusted with me.

  But he is jealous. His hard expression and clipped words tell me that.

  I open my mouth to explain. I love him, but I…

  I don’t know.

  I drop my head. I have no idea how to explain any of this. Or what I feel with them.

  It just never feels wrong. That’s all I know.

  It’s felt wrong before. Not here, though. Not with them.

  “I—”

  “Did you finish those college applications yet?” he asks, cutting me off.

  I blink, falling silent.

  Huh?

  College applications…

  So that’s it? He’s not going to make this harder?

  I search for my words, taking the easy way out he’s giving me. “What, are you trying to get rid of me?” I tease.

  “Well, you’re no use as a cook anymore with one arm.”

  I chuckle, relief washing over me as I shake my head.

  And then I dive in, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. He freezes for a moment but then relaxes, embracing me back as he pulls us to our feet.

  Thank you.

  “You okay now?” He pulls his head up and looks down at me. “Or do you need help with the shower?”

  He gestures to the running shower, now hot and filling the bathroom with steam.

  “I’m okay.”

  I can wash my hair with one hand, I guess.

  I scratch my head, overwhelmed. I have no idea what happens with the three of them when I leave this bathroom.

  But nothing has to happen unless I want it to. There’s always that.

  It can all end now.

  I strip off my shirt, and he takes my hand, holding me steady as he helps me in to the shower. I go to pull the curtain closed, but I meet his eyes, and I can see the look there as he stares back. The one where he’s thinking of climbing in with me.

  But as I watch the temptation play across his eyes, I finally watch as he just sighs, shakes his head, and rolls his eyes, yanking the curtain closed between us.

  In a moment, the bathroom door opens and slams shut again, and I smile to myself. Thank g
oodness he made that easy.

  One thing is for certain, though. Too much of a good thing is dangerous.

  I’m sleeping alone tonight.

  “Move the horses into the paddock and start clearing the debris.”

  “Already done,” I hear Noah tell his father as I descend the stairs. “I’m raking out the stalls now. Oh, and Henderson emailed about his order, so just go deal with the new specs, and I’ll take care of the barn.”

  I enter the kitchen, seeing Noah pull a small plate out of the microwave as I circle the island toward the sink for some water.

  He sets the plate down on the counter, his eyes falling to my arm. “Is it okay?”

  I fill up a glass and nod, tossing him a half smile. “It’s okay.”

  A little better after my shower and the ibuprofen, actually. The heat cured most of my body aches.

  He stares down at me, a slight smile playing on his lips, and flutters fill my stomach, making me lose my breath. He did exactly what he said he was going to do last night. He made love to me. He kissed me so much.

  He kissed me so much last night. My cheeks warm, remembering.

  He pushes the plate toward me, smirking like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Your muffin’s warmed.”

  I cock an eyebrow and grab the muffin off the plate, taking my glass and walking away. I hear his snort behind me.

  Setting my plate on the island, I take a bite as Noah leaves. The sweet taste makes my mouth water. I ate at dinner last night, but I’m starving like I haven’t eaten in days.

  I look up, seeing Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the door that Noah just left through.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jake blinks, shaking his head. “He’s helping,” he replies. “Willingly.”

  He walks to the coffee pot and pours a cup as I drop my head, so he can’t see my smile.

  “And the coffee’s already made,” he adds, staring at the pot with a puzzled look.

  I take another bite. Happy people are more agreeable. I know that much. Noah is responsible today, because he’s happy today.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I hear Jake ask.

  I look over, seeing him stare at my bare arm, because I’m wearing a tank top with only one arm inside my sweater. The other side is tucked over my shoulder.

  “The sleeve chafes me.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and take another bite.

  He approaches. “You should stay in bed. You shouldn’t be up walking around. We can handle everything.”

  “I don’t want to stay in bed.”

  I thought about it. If for no other reason than to catch up on some sleep, but…

  I don’t want to be in my room. I don’t want to be where they’re not.

  I slow my chewing. It’s going to hurt to leave when the snow melts, isn’t it? I miss them when I’m not around them. What’s it going to be like being in a different state when I don’t even want to be in another room without them?

  “Did you draw these?”

  Huh? I come back to reality and turn, following his gaze. Both doors of the refrigerator are plastered with my sketches for the re-designs I’m doing on the furniture. I straighten my spine and walk toward the fridge, confused. I thought I threw these away.

  Wrinkles cover one of the pieces of the butcher paper, because it was thrown in the trash and dug out. The other sketches I slid under the couch when I finished working the other day in the living room and wanted them out of the way.

  Now they’re hanging up.

  It only takes a moment to realize who put them there. I turn my head, seeing Kaleb throw a saddle over his shoulder and lead Shawnee back into the stable. I smile to myself.

  “They’re good,” Jake says. “Can’t wait to see the finished product.”

  I’m not sure how much I’ll get done with one arm, but I’m excited to get back in the shop. Jake takes his mug and starts to leave the kitchen, but then he turns and looks at me, suddenly serious.

  “I don’t want you venturing off the property,” he tells me. “And don’t go outside at night, okay?”

  “Why?” He’s trained me how to deal with wild animals.

  But he tells me, “The fire started in the loft. There’s nothing there that would’ve caused it.”

  I stare at him. So… It wasn’t electrical or something the boys did? What…

  And then it hits me. The fire was set on purpose?

  “I thought you said no one could get up here,” I say

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I said the roads were closed.”

  He leaves the room, and I gape after him. He’s not serious. Someone else could’ve been here last night?

  I adjust the spray gun, turning the dial on the gun to a lower setting, and stand back, spraying a light dusting of gold paint over the most pronounced parts of the blue, violet, and green dresser. I graze the perimeter of the top, as well as the legs and the four corners.

  Turning the gun off, I set it down and pull off my mask and eyewear. The blue and violet melt into each other, and I love how the blue drips into the green. The gold gives it a sheen, and once the handles are back on, I think it’ll look amazing.

  I smile. I like it.

  Removing the sling Jake had me put my arm in, I look down at the bandage, not seeing any blood seeping through. I don’t really need the sling, especially since it was my left arm injured, and I’ve been doing fine with just my right hand today, but Jake was right. Keeping it immobile helped with the pain.

  I pop two aspirin with a drink of water and pass Noah and Jake as I walk back into the house.

  Washing my hands, I look out the window, seeing the snow-drenched branches and needles, a light wind kicking up the powder on the rock cliffs around the barn and stable. From this view, the barn looks fine. I can’t see the other side and the whole corner burnt out. Thank goodness most of it is still useable. The boys spent the morning cleaning out the rubble and patching up what they could with the supplies we had on hand before laying down fresh hay.

  The red light on my phone lights up as I dry my hands, and I turn it on to see a missed call from Mirai. I let out a sigh.

  If I talk to her, what should I lead with? How I was injured by falling debris in a barn fire or how we were in a police chase or how I’ll be lucky to make it out of here next summer not pregnant?

  No. I’m not ready to let the world in.

  I ignore the call.

  But I catch sight of the date on my phone and do a double take. It’s almost December. Christmas.

  All of a sudden, I glance outside and see the trees that surround us. They look just like Christmas trees. I lean over the sink to check them out. I doubt Jake ever did much decorating when the boys were kids, but I’m sure he put a tree up. He’s not a Grinch.

  And I’m sure he shopped for a tree right in his own backyard.

  Pushing off the counter, I almost leap to the closet, grabbing my coat, hat, and gloves. I slip everything on quickly and then kick off my sneakers and slip my feet into my boots. Wrapping my scarf around my neck, I race through the kitchen and into the shop, grabbing a pair of cutters off the tool rack and stepping outside before Jake or Noah can pull their heads out of the bikes to ask me questions.

  The cold nips at my cheeks and nose, but the clouds are rolling in, promising more snow, and something can’t keep the smile off my face. I step through the snow, knee deep as I climb the small incline between the stable and the shop toward the most perfect tree laying ahead. I noticed it months ago, but with the snow on it, it’s even more beautiful. It’s fifteen feet tall and full around the bottom as it grows into a sharp point at the top, perfect shape for a topper.

  But I’m not cutting it down. And I won’t ask Jake to. No, it would be a shame.

  I do need some fringe off it, though. It has plenty.

  Walking up, I curl my toes in the boots against the cold snow that slipped in and bat at the branches, dusting off the snow.

  I lean in, closing my
eyes.

  The scent of the pine and snow smells like Narnia and Christmas. I can almost smell the wrapping paper.

  I reach out with my cutters and take one of the twigs attached to a bough. I squeeze the handle, prying the small branch left and right, but it’s frozen.

  The crisp snow falls off a branch and lands on a sliver of my wrist, and I can almost taste the silvery flavor in the air. I pull at the twig, twisting it, but then suddenly someone reaches around me and slices the twig off in one swift motion.

  I jerk my head, seeing Kaleb looking down at me. The hesitance that’s usually present in his eyes is gone, replaced with calm. He hands me the twig, and I take it.

  “I wanted to make something for the house,” I say quietly.

  But he doesn’t reply, of course. Kaleb doesn’t care what I’m doing or why.

  Reaching out, he slices off another twig, the needles spreading their snow all over my boots as he holds the branch out to me.

  I nod, taking it. I open my mouth to say thank you, but I stop myself. Instead, I meet his eyes and tell him with a small smile. Without waiting for him to walk away, I point to another one, and he reaches around me with both arms, cutting off the twig and laying it in my arms. I reach up, pointing to a higher branch, and he stretches above my head, working his blade again.

  We move around the tree, picking nice, long twigs with dense needles, and I’m not sure how long our little truce will last, but I’m sure it will last longer the more I don’t talk.

  The next branch breaks off, the snow on it sprinkling over me and landing on my eyelashes and nose. A glob lands right on my cheek, and I wince, shaking my head and brushing off my face. I smile, but I don’t laugh. I don’t make any sound. When I look up, Kaleb is watching me with an amused tilt to his lips.

  I take the branch and whip it at him, his head jerking away to avoid the flurries, but I catch his grin.

  My own falls, a sting hitting the back of my eyes as I stare at him. That’s the first time I’ve seen that. Something like happiness on his face.

  He meets my gaze, and I quickly blink away the tears, not sure what the hell is wrong with me. It’s only a beautiful smile, because I’ve never seen it.

  We move to the next twig, and I instruct him with a nod to cut that one and a few more close by. He lays them in my arms as the wind kicks up, and thunder cracks overhead. A shiver runs down my spine.