“No, it wasn’t.” Her voice trembled.
He sighed. “Sarah, I don’t want to fight with you. But, you need to move on. You’re pretty and smart enough to find someone if you just let it happen. You don’t even give guys a chance because you’re so hung up on me. Please, just let it go.”
She let out a sob. “Why? So, you can move in on her without feeling guilty about it?”
He groaned. “Sarah.”
“She’s married, and now I want Forrest to show up alive not just for her, but to stick it to you and tell him you’ve got a thing for his wife.”
“Stop it, Sarah. Don’t drag them into this. Don’t you think they’ve suffered enough? This is between you and me. And, guess what? There is no you and me. I don’t mean to be cruel, but you just don’t seem to get it when I’m nice about it.”
She sobbed again and her footsteps rushed down the stairs.
I pushed off from the door, feeling guilty for eavesdropping on such a painful conversation. Poor Sarah. I couldn’t help blaming myself for her pain. I’d encouraged her after all.
I hurried to shut down the house and lock the doors—not that locking up was necessary, but out of habit. I traipsed up the stairs, checked on Jackson, and retired to my room. Pulling out my tank top and pajama pants, I dressed, and curled up in bed. Then, I remembered the dirt on my hands.
I rushed into the bathroom and cleaned up. When I returned to my bed, I jumped. Nova’s eyes flittered open, then she rolled over to make room for me. I climbed in beside her, staring at her with surprise. I shut my eyes, and a moment later, Nova curled up against me. Kissing her head, I smiled.
Chapter 10
The rain poured down so heavily I couldn’t see the tree in our front yard. The previous day I’d grieved like never before while our wedding anniversary dragged on.
The rain seemed fitting for my mournful state, but I didn’t let Nova know. She sat at the table working through her math problems, while I helped Jackson eat his rice cereal. She tapped on the table to get my attention. Looking over, she pointed at a problem.
I stared. I had no idea what the problem was or how to do it. “Skip it. I’ll call Mr. O’Brien this afternoon.”
She nodded and continued.
She surprised me when she brought her school work out during spring break. I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere, but she just shook her head.
I made my way into the living room to vacuum. It didn’t take me long, and I flopped onto the couch when I finished. The rain brought on a mellow feeling, and slowly the sound of it pouring down lulled me to sleep.
A knock on the door made me sit bolt upright. Out the front sat the sheriff’s truck. I hurried to answer the door. As I opened it, the soaked sheriff lifted Forrest’s jacket. “Bray, I think you should sit down.”
My heart skipped a beat and my body turned ice cold. “No . . . ”
He grabbed my arms to stop me from collapsing. “Braydon?”
“Where?”
He guided me to the couch and sat me down. He sank down beside me, twisting the brim of his hat in his fingers. “We need you to come down and identify the body.”
My stomach lurched, but I covered my mouth to stop it emptying on the floor. I took several deep breaths, fighting back my emotions. Then, I met his gaze. “Where?”
His eyes turned away. “I don’t think—”
“Where?”
“Down by the park, not far from where we found Nova. There was a beaver lodge that had been kicked in to cover him. When the snow came, it froze over, which is why the dogs didn’t sniff him out.”
My face fell into my hands. How many times had we visited that park over the months and not known how close he was? “Are you sure it’s him?”
The sheriff let out a long breath. “Yes. He is fairly well preserved.”
“The cold.” My whole body trembled.
“We need his next of kin to confirm his identity.”
A sob wrenched itself free from me. “I don’t know if I can! I don’t want to see him that way. I want to keep on pretending he might be alive somewhere and will come back to me. I want to keep the memory of him alive untainted by him . . . him . . .”
He grabbed my head and pulled me against his shoulder.
I clasped his jacket, burying my face into his shirt as I cried.
I didn’t know if I felt relieved they found Forrest, or heartbroken knowing for certain he was gone.
Paul’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer to him. “I’m so sorry, Bray.”
A hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me away, before another shoved him in the chest. Then Nova threw her arms around me. She climbed onto my lap, glaring at Paul as she nuzzled up in my arms.
“Nova?” He frowned. “I was just trying to help.”
She kicked out at him.
“Hey!”
“Nova.” I stroked her hair, forcing back my tears. “He hasn’t done anything.”
She nodded her head and pointed at the door.
“Nova!”
She wrapped her arm back around my neck and clung to me.
“Nova, did you hear?”
She nodded.
“Forrest is . . . ” I couldn’t even say the word! “I need to go down to identify him.”
Her grip on me tightened. Her shoulder dug into my throat making me gag.
“Nova . . . ”
She released me, but clasped my face. She stared into my eyes and shook her head.
“I have to. I need you to watch Jackson.”
“No need,” the sheriff said. “Megan is in the car.”
I smiled at Nova. “You like Megan and Donny.”
She shook her head again and tapped my chest over my heart.
“Oh, Nova.” I pulled her in for a tight hug. “My heart is already broken for him. This won’t change that.”
Her arms tightened around me.
Megan stepped into the house, her eyes red from crying. She set down Donny and walked through to the kitchen to find Jackson.
“Help Megan,” I said, prying Nova’s arms off me. “I have to do this.”
Taking her hand in mine, I led her to Megan. She sank onto the tile in the kitchen beside the two boys, covering her face. Megan nodded at me, squeezing my hand. The sheriff touched my back, signifying time to leave.
In the truck, neither of us spoke a word. I just stared out the window, hoping with my last glimmer of hope, that it wasn’t Forrest.
The sheriff guided me into the tiny morgue tucked behind the sheriff station. We paused inside while the mortician brought out the body.
My heart pounded icy blood around my body. I almost threw up. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
The sheriff’s hand wrapped around mine. My eyes shot open and I looked to him. He smiled with sad eyes. “Don’t be ashamed to cry on my shoulder.”
My whole body trembled, but I nodded.
The mortician wheeled out a covered body and my legs gave out.
“Whoa!” The sheriff caught me and set me down on a small chair.
The mortician grabbed the top of the sheet.
“Wait!” I stared at the sheet. “I don’t . . . I need . . . I can’t . . . ”
The mortician waited as I forced my composure.
“Bray,” the sheriff said softly. “He doesn’t look bad, I promise. And we’ll only show him for a moment.”
I took a deep breath and nodded.
The mortician pulled the sheet back and tucked it under his chin. Immediately tears tore themselves free of me and my face fell into my hands. “It’s him!”
The mortician covered him and grabbed the bed to wheel him away but I couldn’t let him go. “Wait, please, l
et me see him again.”
The sheriff nodded. The mortician pulled the sheet back under his chin again.
I stood and looked down into Forrest’s face. My emotions caught in my throat, making it ache as tears streamed down my face. “Forrest.”
I reached out to touch his cheek, but the sheriff stopped me. “The forensics need to examine him first. Once they’ve checked for evidence, then you can touch him.”
A loud sob burst from me. I covered my mouth as I stared into Forrest’s face. “Forrest?” I leaned over him. “I hope you can hear me. I miss you. I wish . . . ”
I sank back onto the chair and cried harder than ever. Nothing else around me registered as my heart tore apart. My Forrest, gone.
When I finally stopped crying, I looked at the clock. An hour had passed. I took a deep, quivering breath, and stared into Forrest’s face again. “When can I bury him?”
The sheriff, who at some point pulled a chair up to sit beside me, flinched and looked up at me. His eyes had turned bloodshot. He rubbed at his face to hide his tears. “I don’t know. The forensics are on their way. This isn’t something I’ve ever had to deal with.”
“I’ll need to know so I can help his sisters get up here.” I tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “They’ll want to . . . ”
I swallowed hard as my emotions swelled up again.
He shuffled closer and took my hand. “Hey, don’t you worry about a thing. The whole town will want to help you, so—”
“I need to be busy,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I can’t just sit around and wallow in self-pity. I think I’d go insane.”
I shuffled closer to Forrest, wishing I could touch him just for a moment. “I expected this after so long, but . . . ”
“I know.”
I leaned back, made eye contact with the mortician, and nodded.
He covered Forrest and took him away. As he wheeled him out of the room, my heart tore apart and I almost screamed at him to bring Forrest back.
The sheriff squeezed my hand. “Let’s get you home.”
I shook my head. “No. I want to see where you found him.”
He scowled. “It’s closed off for the forensics.”
“Get me as close as you can.”
He sighed and nodded.
A small crew of forensics had arrived at the site, taking photos and samples.
“They brought the body out after we found him,” the sheriff said. “I called them in after Nova ran away and they helped us figure out where he was.”
I nodded, unable to speak.
We watched for several minutes before I finally uttered, “Take me somewhere I can forget for just a moment.”
He took my hand and led me back to the truck.
He drove to a lookout where he cut the engine and helped me out. I stood at the edge, considering the possibility of jumping for just a moment, before I regained my senses. Jackson and Nova still needed me.
His hand rested on the small of my back. “From here, you can see Bearville . . . ” he pointed southward, “The main town on the Res . . . ” he pointed south west, “and Papina.” He pointed to our town almost right below us. “But, it’s best at night because the stars out here are so clear and the towns are like tiny reflections of them below.”
I took in a deep breath.
He looked into my face. “Do you want me to distract you?”
I smiled, remembering the night I went into labor and how he asked me the same thing. “Yes please.”
“Okay.” He rested his arm around my shoulders. “My dad was sheriff before me. He was sheriff for twenty-five years. He and Mom lived in Helena when he was asked to take the sheriff position out here. The sheriff before him wanted to retire, but no one wanted to do it, so they offered it to young, up and coming, people. I was three when they moved out here. I don’t remember living anywhere else.
“But, over the years, people have come and gone, and only Clint and Sarah have stayed constant. They’re my family now, especially after all our parents decided to move to Florida together.” He chuckled.
Smiling, I asked, “They’re like your siblings?”
He nodded. “I have an older brother, but he left as soon as he could. He hates this place. It’s too quiet for him.” He looked into my eyes. “Do you have any siblings?”
I shook my head. “I wish. My mom had several miscarriages before and after me, until finally she had to get a hysterectomy . . . ” I trailed off and blushed. “I don’t know why I told you that.”
His arm tightened around me as he redirected the conversation. “We all have our trials, I guess. When I was deputy under my dad, everyone kept saying I’d never be able to fill his shoes, but they chose me anyway. My first year was horrible. Everyone said, ‘Your father would have never done this,’ or ‘Your father always did this to solve that problem,’ and it just about drove me crazy. But, I learned to accept their criticism and do things my way because I’m not my father.”
“Wow, I think I’d just say ‘Screw you all!’ and leave them to it.”
He laughed. “And, what would that help?”
“My sanity.”
He laughed again.
I smiled and rested my head on his shoulder. “You know, you were hard to like at first. I thought you were this backward, redneck cowboy who shoots first and asks questions later, and is so painfully shy around women you’d never get laid. But, I like being wrong. I like knowing when Forrest is right about someone and I’ve seriously misjudged them. It’s usually the other way . . . around . . . ”
My shoulders slumped as my eyes fell. “I miss him so much.”
His fingers ran through my ponytail. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you do. You and Forrest were a couple to be envied. That best friend speech was . . . ” He trailed off when I giggled. “What?”
“His best friend speech was a bit of a running joke. He used it all the time.”
He lowered an eyebrow and tilted his head. “It wasn’t true?”
“No, it’s true, but he had it memorized word for word. I think the first time I heard it was when he asked me to marry him. He took me out into the desert and I teased him mercilessly about knocking me off and leaving me to the coyotes, but I couldn’t get him to crack a smile the whole time. He looked like he was going to throw up. When he started that speech, I thought he was going to dump me.”
I rested my head back on his shoulder. “He started rambling about me being too good for him and I panicked and tried to stop him because I didn’t want to lose him. Then, he said the best friend thing; that I was his best friend and he was so glad to be in love with me. Then, he just fell to his knees and begged me not to freak out, but he wanted to marry me.”
I looked up at Paul. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t care—”
“No, please go on.” He smiled a warm smile that calmed me. So, I continued.
“My ex, who I’d broken up with over a year earlier, was furious when he found out. He came to my apartment and yelled at me for rejecting him when he could give me the world, for a poor nobody. I yelled back and said I dumped him because he only wanted a trophy wife, but Forrest really loved me. And, you know what he did? He tried to pay me off! He said he’d give me twenty thousand dollars to end it with Forrest and come back to him.
“When Forrest heard about it, oh, he just about lost it. I calmed him, and reminded him that I chose him.
“But, one day, we all crossed paths on campus. Forrest and I tried to ignore my ex until he came up behind me, called me a slut, and groped me. And, Forrest, being overprotective, hit him. That’s the assault charges on his record.”
Paul chuckled. “Yes, I can see that happening. I admired his courage.” But, his smile fell as he stared out. “What’s your ex’s name?”
<
br /> I gazed up at him. “Why? He lives in Beverley Hills now. There’s no way he’d have anything to do with this.”
He pursed his lips. “Humor me.”
I sighed. “Randy Gilmore.”
He stared off across the mountains, and I noticed his gaze locked on the boarding school. “Paul, you don’t think he’s connected to one of the kids there do you?”
He looked down at me. “Maybe. He might have a niece or nephew, or even a sibling there.”
My whole body tensed. “Do you think he could have come up here to visit and got in a fight with Forrest?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll look into it. But, according to what you said, he has a motive. No one else around here does.”
I stepped back from him, my gaze falling to my feet. “How did Forrest die?”
He took a sharp breath. “I don’t want—”
“I’ll find out, eventually, anyway.”
He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “He has six puncture wounds in his back, and his throat was slit.”
I grasped my stomach, but I couldn’t hold it in. Collapsing to my knees, I heaved over the edge of the cliff. I didn’t stop, even after my stomach emptied and my whole body trembled from the exertion.
Paul knelt beside me, stroking my back. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry.”
Forcing control over my body, I looked into his eyes as my tears fell. “No. I need to know. Find the bastard who did that to him. Forrest didn’t deserve that. He’s supposed to . . . he should still . . . ” I covered my mouth as I sobbed.
“Yes, Bray, he is supposed to still be here with you and to help you raise Jackson.” He pulled me into his arms as I cried all my pain onto his chest.
Chapter 11
Flowers covered the porch. I couldn’t be bothered to bring them inside. The rain kept them watered, so they stayed fresher out there. I stood by the front window staring at them, wondering why people gave flowers when someone died. Did they really think killing some plant would help make those grieving feel better? It seemed everyone was bent on murder, even just a plant.
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