by Ev Bishop
Oh sure, it’s the running you’re enjoying, teased an inner voice that Katelyn recognized as sounding all too much like a certain running partner. But it was the running, it really was—or was in addition to, anyway. Katelyn didn’t think her smile could get any bigger.
Brian had been all the way to the highway already and was almost back to River Sigh’s parking lot when Katelyn caught up to him. “Sheesh, finally,” he said.
“And here I’d been hoping you’d burned off the worst of your ego and cheekiness by now,” she joked back.
“No worries there,” he assured her, sounding very serious, running backwards just in front of her. “I always have tons of ego and cheek to go around.”
Katelyn laughed. “So let’s get the lead out, shall we?”
Brian pivoted so he was jogging forward again and she fell into an easy stride beside him. “Your wish is my command. Wanna take the lead today?”
“Sure, creek or forest?”
“Surprise me.”
Chapter 12
Brian took deep pulls of air, concentrating on filling his lower diaphragm and hoping the focus would keep him tethered to the ground. He hadn’t had a running partner since he was a kid in university. He felt buoyant. It was so fun! And Katelyn was a champ. Not as fast as him—or not yet—and not as used to running trails, which was different than treadmill running, but they’d quickly, almost accidentally, fallen into a pattern. He’d resumed his running habit a couple days after his introduction to the creep, as he’d taken to calling Steve in his head. He thought Katelyn might have spotted him running before, but she didn’t comment on it until the morning after their first movie night. He’d been doing a warm down, loping past Spring cabin, sweaty and feeling totally spent, and she’d looked at him longingly. “I used to run.”
He’d stopped in his tracks and jogged on the spot by her porch. “So why don’t you again?”
She shrugged. “The kids, mostly. Once I started using childcare a lot, I wanted to be home with them as much as possible when I wasn’t working. Plus our old apartment had a treadmill that someone left behind. It was like a gift at the time.”
Aisha, who’d been sitting in a lawn chair by the three playing kids, made a shooing motion. “Why don’t you go now? It’ll be good to do a trial run—no pun intended.”
Brian groaned at Aisha’s joke, but Katelyn found it funny and her eyes squinted in the cutest way. Then she’d slapped her hands on her thighs. “Okay, I will.”
And the rest, as they say, was history. They’d been running together almost every day since, with Brian warming up and running full out for twenty minutes or so before she joined in. He was already trying to figure out how to keep her running with him after she returned to work.
He liked their movie nights, but he loved their runs under the protective evergreen canopy in the forest around River’s Sigh. The time they spent exploring the soft duff trails was practically the only time Brian enjoyed peace of mind and freedom from depressing thoughts, since returning to Greenridge and finding his home destroyed.
And on that note, as if sensing the shadow that crossed his thoughts, Katelyn glanced over her shoulder at him. Her face was dewy with perspiration and she was radiant, like she herself was a source of light and life—
He shook his head at himself just as she asked, “So how did it go?”
“With?”
“You know, lunch with your mom and everything.”
He did know, and what’s more, he had no desire to pretend that he didn’t. Shortly after his initial phone call with his mother, he’d ended up spilling everything to Katelyn: how depressed and angry his parents’ relationship made him in general, how torn he felt about his mom, but how he’d ended up telling her he wouldn’t represent her, even though it made him feel like he was letting her down. The disclosure had surprised him by feeling infinitely right, not scaldingly embarrassing. There was something he hadn’t told Katelyn, however. Not because he was holding back, but because it hadn’t come up.
“About that, funny thing. We ending up postponing our lunch date.”
“Oh, yeah?” She sounded interested, but not pushy. An unfamiliar feeling wrapped around him: kinship. He was used to women reacting to him—or to who they thought he was, anyway. Katelyn seemed to respond to who he actually was, a subtle but critical difference. And when they were outside like this, working hard together, but also completely focused on their own independent progress, it felt natural to share things he usually kept bottled up.
“When you see her in person, are you going to stick to your decision?”
Brian raised his eyebrows and gave a small shrug without breaking his stride.
Katelyn glanced over and caught his response. Her pace didn’t slow either. “I was thinking about all this the other night, avoiding my own problems, you know?”
Brian laughed. “It’s always much more fun.”
“Right?”
“And what did you come up with?”
“I don’t know, not much. Just that I’m kind of furious at your mom, even though I get where she’s coming from.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s tempting because you get so lonely, but no parent should ask their kids to intervene in their relationship. They’re kids, no matter how old they are. It’s not their job.”
Katelyn was breathing a bit heavily now, as if emotional exertion was far more winding than anything physical you could throw at her. Brian totally related.
Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “You try to take care of people, Brian, but who takes care of you?”
The question caught him off guard. “Who takes care of you?” he shot back.
“Me. I take care of myself, or I try to.”
“Exactly.”
They both stopped running for a moment and studied each other.
After a few beats of silence, Katelyn said, “Game to pick up the pace?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
They pounded out another two kilometers or so. Any time Brian wondered if he should inch ahead, it was like Katelyn sensed his thoughts and lengthened her stride just that little bit. She was a petite, like, what? Five foot two or three, maybe, so keeping up with him—not to mention leading—had to give her a pretty good workout.
“Don’t your muscles ache when we’re finished?” he puffed.
She laughed breathily. “The first couple days it was like they were on fire. It was awesome.”
He laughed and slowed to a jog and then to a walk as they neared a jade green creek. It was moving hard and fast, just like they had been, and was close to overflowing its banks because of spring runoff. Katelyn stopped too, and using a large jutting rock as a stool, she propped a foot and leaned to stretch her hamstring, then did the same with the other leg. Her purple T-shirt was soaked to the point of transparency, the outline of her racer back bra clearly visible and somehow as erotic as any daring lingerie. Faded block letters on the shirt’s front read “I run like a girl.”
“Great T.”
She glanced down, as if to remind herself what she was wearing, then shot him a dubious look, like she suspected he was mocking her. “You think?”
He nodded. “I do. You’re kick ass fast and you never get tired.”
She made a huffing sound that could have been a held back laugh, but maybe wasn’t, maybe was something different altogether. Then she checked her wristwatch—she and he might be the only people in the world who still wore those, he thought—and exhaled explosively. “We should get back.”
“Okay. Who should lead the way home?”
She hesitated only a second. “Whoever’s not it!”
She smacked his arm, making it clear he was the “it” in question and bolted, jumping a fallen log like a deer and getting a good lead.
Brian sprinted after her, but the energy he’d expended before she’d joined him showed. Try as he might, he didn’t catch her until they broke through the tree line that opene
d into a grassy clearing that edged Jo and Callum’s house and the guest hall and office.
“Yes!” Katelyn fist pumped the air.
The sun, as if responding to her celebration, burst from behind an ominous black cloud. Suddenly the weather was doing the weird thing it sometimes did in their coastal-influenced rainforest. The sun smiled down hot and brilliant, while rain simultaneously poured on their upturned faces.
Without a thought, Brian swooped Katelyn up by her small waist and swung her around in a circle, reveling in the sensation of her sinuous muscles beneath his hands. “And the winner is!” he announced. “Kate . . . by a cheating landside.”
She shrieked with unsuppressed glee—but then the sound died in her throat and something in her face clenched. Brian set her down at once. Her head bowed, and she crossed her arms tightly over her ribcage, beneath her breasts, like she was trying to protect herself from a blow. A rock of apprehension formed in Brian’s stomach. He turned to face the same direction she was staring.
Callum had descended the three wide stairs from the office’s large cedar deck. It was obvious he’d witnessed their antics from across the expanse of green lawn. His eyes flickered over Katelyn, then fixed on Brian, and he shook his head, but looked amused. It wasn’t Callum’s obvious misinterpretation about what he’d seen that increased the weight lodged in Brian’s gut, however. It was Steve, standing behind Callum, stone-jawed and ice-eyed, glaring at Katelyn as if Brian wasn’t even there.
Chapter 13
One of the first tipoffs to Katelyn that she was perhaps in an abusive marriage had been the realization that Steve made her feel intensely guilty over events, things said, things done or not done, where no guilt or shame was warranted. She—in a fact that still made her wince and want to slap her old self—had gotten so used to feeling chronically nervous and wary and guilty that she hadn’t even noticed anything awry.
After all, didn’t every wife worry that dinner might be two minutes later than whatever nebulous, random time her husband wanted to eat? Or that it might not be the type of food he was in the mood for?
Didn’t every woman not want to rock the boat or make her mate feel insecure or unloved by smiling or greeting or conversing with another man—or, heck, even responding politely to a male grocery clerk?
Didn’t every truly loving, committed female realize that her partner was only so controlling, so rigid, so intensely paranoid that she was cheating or looking to cheat, because he loved her so much and couldn’t, or wouldn’t, live without her?
It had taken a visit from Janet, a rare time where Steve had actually allowed her to stay at their house in the guest room, to open her eyes and make her see that no, not every woman accepted that kind of mental and physical tyranny as normal. When Steve finally left them to their own devices for a couple of hours because he couldn’t, as much as he wanted to, stay away from the office all week, Katelyn had almost wept, hearing Janet’s objections and her angry, shocked horror at how Katelyn was continually—casually, almost—railroaded by Steve.
It was like seeing her life and experiences through her friend’s eyes allowed her to voice, to admit, to confront, what she had always hoped—or known—deep down. It wasn’t normal. And once she acknowledged that and forced herself to do the horribly scary thing of calling his abuse what it was . . . well, she only saw it more and more. She also admitted to herself that, if anything, his behavior was growing worse over the years, not better, and if she was going to get out alive, she probably needed to do it sooner rather than later.
All this and more flashed through her mind as Steve’s glare locked on her. But old habits die hard, and familiar—if hated—feelings of shame welled up in Katelyn.
What was she doing going for runs with Brian every day when she should be focusing on the kids and what her next steps were going to be? How selfish was she? And of course it would be hard for Steve to see her and Brian together. Of course he would read something romantic into it and see it as a betrayal. He still, unrequited though it was, loved her—according to what his idea of love was, anyway. Why flirt with danger? Why make waves? Why do that to him, if she really wasn’t interested in dating? Why put him through that extra pain?
But then again, what was she “doing” to Steve? Nothing. When was she going to get over this sick, codependent weakness she had with him? Why wasn’t she strong enough to recognize the shame she felt around him was emotionally and mentally unhealthy? What kind of role model and parent would she manage to be for her kids, if she couldn’t get herself healthy and strong, once and for all?
Katelyn realized she was shaking and clutching her stomach. She forced herself to unwrap her arms from around her middle, as Callum grinned. “Looks like you two had a good run.”
He had absolutely no idea about the rage that his cheerful observation triggered in the eyes of the man standing behind him.
Katelyn’s knees trembled and she felt mildly nauseous. Then, suddenly, there was gentle pressure on her back. Brian had softly nudged her.
“So am I correct in thinking ol’ Steve won’t call me ‘buddy’ the next time we meet up alone?” His whisper was quiet to the point of being barely perceptible—but it was like the flashing beam of a lighthouse in a stormy sea. Her thoughts steadied and she found her way back to firm land.
“Yes, I think that’s a safe bet,” she said equally quietly.
Brian was here. And Callum. She was not alone with Steve. There were witnesses. She was safe. And the kids were with Aisha and Mo. They were safe.
“Yeah, it was a pretty good work out. Thanks, Callum.” To her profound relief, her tone matched his: light, friendly, normal. “Steve, it’s not your day with the kids. Why are you here?”
Steve advanced in long, angry strides. The friendly rain ceased and the sun took cover behind the clouds again.
Perhaps Callum saw something in Katelyn’s face or felt a change in the air at Steve’s movement, but for whatever reason, he pivoted toward Steve.
Steve’s voice was low and furious. “Maybe I had a father’s intuition. Maybe I felt my wife wasn’t watching our precious children properly on ‘her’ days.”
Callum’s eyes narrowed in surprise, but it was Brian who spoke. “Whoa, that’s enough. As you told me when we first met, Katelyn here is your ex-wife.”
“What does that matter? I have a right to know my children are being cared for. That their mother’s not out”—he practically spat the words—“cavorting with anything with two legs and a dick.”
Because of his mellow temperament and gentle demeanor, Katelyn sometimes forgot how big Callum was, but as he blocked Steve from moving any closer with a restraining hand, Steve seemed well aware of it. And then Brian stepped toward him too.
Steve reconsidered his audience and lifted his hands apologetically. “Sorry, Brian—Callum,” he said. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. It’s just, well, this break up has been really hard on me. I love my wife, I mean, Katelyn, and our kids. I’d do anything for them.”
Callum snorted and Brian outright laughed. “Anything except respect her wishes, or let her go, right, buddy?”
Steve tried once more. “I don’t know what she’s told you. I wasn’t perfect in the past, but—”
“I think you should head out, Steve,” Callum said. “You’re more than welcome when it’s your day to pick up your kids, but other than that, well, this is private property and I have a business to run.” He sounded calm, but Katelyn was sure his words were a warning—and not just to Steve. Her flesh burned. Callum and Jo did have a business to run. She couldn’t bear it if her stupid family drama caused hassles for them or hurt their professionalism in front of their other guests. Yes, because she didn’t have any place else to go at the moment, but also because they’d been kind to her and she didn’t want them to suffer for it.
“Please, Steve. Just go. I don’t want to get into this again, or to get anyone else involved. I’ll see you Friday at five.”
Steve
’s eyes glinted and his fists clenched. “When we go to court this time, you’ll be sorry.”
All Katelyn could do was nod wearily. “I’m already sorry, Steve. That never changes.”
He blasted her with another look, opened his mouth, then closed it with a sneer, and stormed back to his truck.
He roared away, spinning his tires and tearing up the carefully raked gravel. It was like a physical symbol of the embarrassment spraying through her: ugly and obvious, destructive and intensely stupid. That he’d shown his true colors to Brian and Callum was little comfort. Sometimes he could keep up a façade indefinitely; other times, like today, he had virtually no control. Either way, she was left with a throbbing, near tears awareness: because of her, River’s Sigh B & B’s peace had been disturbed and would be further threatened if she stayed. She could practically hear that thought run through Callum’s head—so loud, in fact, that when he spoke, she shook her head and stared for a long minute before grasping what he was actually saying.
“I’m sorry, Katelyn. I should’ve stuck with the simple truth that you weren’t around, but I didn’t pick up any off cues from him when he asked me to track you down. Won’t happen again.”
“What? No. You don’t have to apologize to me. I need to apologize to you. I’m so sorry.”
Callum’s face was sad. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He punched Brian’s arm lightly. “Well, that pump won’t fix itself. I’ll see you later.”
It was only as he walked off that Katelyn noticed the small toolbox he was carrying. She was left standing awkwardly beside Brian, all traces of the peace she had enjoyed on the trails totally obliterated.
“I’m really—”
Brian interrupted her before she could apologize yet again by taking her hand. Unlike when their fingers had connected during the first movie night, there was nothing remotely sexual or electric in the touch this time. It was just the solid grip of a friend, soothing and grounding.
