The Lost Daughter of Pigeon Hollow

by Inglath Cooper

  Steve was a big ladies’ man. Had slept with half the girls in their class. Or so he said. Katie had seemed pretty into him.

  Maybe they were just out somewhere having a good time.

  But something didn’t feel right about it.

  Cline had left her at that party. If something happened to her…

  He rolled his chair to the door. He had to find her.

  * * *

  OWEN STOPPED THE TRUCK at the side of the house next to Cline’s van. He got out and opened Willa’s door, waited for her to slide to the ground.

  Cline lowered his window, the engine running.

  “It’s awful late,” Owen said. “You coming or going?”

  “Katie’s not home yet,” Cline said, his face set.

  A ping of alarm went off inside Willa. “Where is she?”

  Cline looked uneasy, and then admitted, “I don’t know. I left before she did. I called back out there a little while ago. Someone said she had left with Steve, the guy throwing the party. I thought I’d go look for them.”

  Willa glanced at her watch. Nearly 2:00 a.m. “We’ll come with you,” she said, starting to feel panicky.

  Owen put a hand on her arm. “Maybe we should stay here in case she comes home or someone calls.”

  Fear sliced through Willa’s chest. A dozen explanations for Katie’s being late sailed through her thoughts, each one worse than the former. “Okay,” she said.

  “Got your cell phone?” Owen asked Cline.

  Cline nodded. “I’ll call when I catch up with her.”

  “Thanks,” Willa said.

  She and Owen walked in the house where Sam offered up an ecstatic welcome. Willa bent down and rubbed his back. They went into the kitchen. Owen made some coffee and poured her a cup.

  “I can see your imagination working overtime,” he said. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Willa blew out a sigh. “I had begun to think we might be past this.”

  Owen sat down in the chair beside her and set his coffee cup on the table. “It’s probably not what you think. But even if it is, big brother speaking to a big sister here, you’re not going to be able to prevent her from making mistakes.”

  Willa ran a hand through her hair, kneaded the back of her neck where stress had instantly drawn the muscles in knots. “I just want good things for her.”

  “I know,” he said. He was silent for a moment, and then said, “A year or so after Cline’s accident, he got into some pretty bad stuff. For a long time, I thought he wanted to kill himself. Maybe he did. I tried everything I knew to turn him around, but in the end, he had to decide for himself.”

  “He seems like such a levelheaded kid.”

  “He is. Now. I guess my point is sometimes there are just places we have to get to by ourselves.”

  “I know,” she said softly. The ironic thing was the words applied just as easily to her as they did to Katie.

  * * *

  KATIE HAD NO IDEA how many miles she’d walked.

  Her sandals had rubbed a blister between her toes. The balls of her feet ached. She had to pee really bad.

  She’d passed a small country store with a pay phone out front, but she’d left her purse in Steve’s car. And pride or stubbornness had refused to let her call Cline’s house collect.

  A truck with a hole in the muffler roared past, hit the brakes and backed up, tires screeching to a stop right beside her.

  “Hey, sweet thing.” The driver was bald, late-forties, with a gold-capped tooth that glinted in the dark. “You need a ride?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” she said and walked on.

  The truck idled along beside her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath from ten feet away.

  “Come on. I don’t bite.”

  The very thought was enough to turn her stomach. Katie darted up the bank into a cornfield.

  The truck roared off, a string of bad language sailing out the window, tires smoking.

  Katie bit back a sob and started running.

  * * *

  CLINE ARRIVED BACK at Steve’s house to find the red 911 parked in the driveway.

  He opened the lift and got out of the van. Rolled around back and made his way through the house. The remaining guests were mostly passed out on the stairs, the living room floor.

  Steve was still at it, putting the moves on a younger girl Cline recognized from school who looked as if she could barely hold her head up.

  Cline rolled up behind them. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

  Steve swung around, a frown on his face.

  “Where’s Katie?”

  “How should I know?”

  “You left with her, didn’t you?”

  “So what if I did?”

  “So you better tell me where she is.”

  “Like it matters. And by the way, thanks for the warning, buddy,” he said, sarcasm etched in the words. “That one was a waste of time.”

  Cline blinked back a wave of rage. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is she?”

  “Probably back at your house by now. It wasn’t that long a walk.”

  “You moron,” Cline said in a low voice.

  Steve shot him a look of annoyance, as if he were a fly that had been pestering him too long.

  Cline balled his fists, stared at him through narrowed eyes. He swung his chair around and wheeled out the way he’d come in.

  Outside, he opened the side door to his van, rummaged through the glove compartment, pulled out a leather case.

  He unsnapped it, slid out the knife he kept there for emergencies. He rolled across the grass to the 911, sat for a moment, considering how best to make his point.

  He started with the left front tire, sliced a straight gash from the twelve o’clock position to the three o’clock. The air released with a satisfying sigh. Cline moved to the back and repeated the same cut. And then again. And again. Until Steve’s chick magnet sat flat on the ground.

  * * *

  THE PHONE RANG at just after three.

  Owen saw the look of panic in Willa’s eyes, squeezed her shoulder once, then picked up the cordless. “Hello.”

  Silence, and then quiet weeping from the other end.

  “Katie?”

  “Yeah,” she said, the word barely audible.

  “Are you all right? Where are you?”

  “In a dairy barn. There was a phone just inside the door here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She sniffled and said something that sounded like yes.

  “Can you look around? See if there’s anything with an address?”

  “There’s a milk crate by the phone. The label on the side says Olden’s Dairy.”

  “Carter Olden. I know where you are. Stay put, Katie. We’ll come and get you.”

  “Okay,” she said and hung up.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THEY MADE IT to the Olden’s Dairy in less than fifteen minutes, Owen not cutting the speed limit any slack. He called Cline on his cell phone and let him know they were going to get Katie.

  A short gravel drive wound from the main road down to the house and dairy. Black-and-white Holstein cows stood in a line at one end of the barn, waiting for milking time.

  Katie waited just outside the entrance, arms folded across her chest, her gaze on the ground.

  Owen turned off the engine and said, “Sam and I will wait here.”

  “Thanks.” Willa got out of the Rover and walked the few steps to where Katie waited. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.” Katie looked up then, her face set.

  “What happened?” Willa asked softly, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  Katie sat down on the concrete steps outside the barn, propped her arms on her knees and buried her face in her hands, silent.

  Willa waited, feeling her sister’s struggle to find words.

  Finally, Katie turned her head and said, “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

&n
bsp; “Tell me about it?”

  Katie’s white teeth pulled at her lower lip. “Do I look like an easy target?”

  Willa took in her sister’s soft pink sundress, her short blond ponytail, now-scuffed white sandals. Saw the way she had bloomed during their time here. “No,” she said.

  Tears welled in Katie’s eyes, slid down her cheeks.

  Something snapped in Willa’s heart, and she reached for her sister, pulling her tight up against her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Not just for what happened to you tonight, but for the things that weren’t the way they should have been when we were growing up. I’d give anything to take all that away from you, Katie.”

  Katie wrapped her arms around Willa’s waist, buried her face in her shoulder and sobbed. They sat that way for a good while until her sobs softened, her breathing even. “None of it was your fault, Willa. I know I’ve tried to put the blame on you, but I was wrong to do it. I’m sorry for that.”

  “Shh.” Willa smoothed Katie’s hair. “All that anger? Maybe it was just a bridge to get to where we are now. And right here is a great place to be.”

  Katie pulled back, looked up at her through eyes still wet with tears. “You always accept me, no matter how awful I am.”

  “That’s because I love you. And that’s what love is. Although I have to say, I really like this Katie.” She hesitated, and then said, “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  “What?”

  “Charles…my father. He left me quite a bit of money.”

  Surprise registered on Katie’s face. “How much is quite a bit?”

  “Actually, it’s two million dollars.”

  Katie stared at Willa, her eyes wide now, amazed. “Wow.”

  “I know. It’s crazy. Reading his journals, I discovered that he wanted to be a doctor.”

  “Like you.”

  “It kind of freaked me out when I read it. But since we’ve been here, I’ve done a lot of thinking. Katie, I wanted to do the right thing by you. Be the family you needed. Somewhere in all that, I lost sight of the life I had intended to pursue. And I think maybe you haven’t respected me for that.”

  Katie looked down at her hands, rubbed a thumb across one palm. “I don’t deserve you.”

  Willa reached out, tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at her. “We’re sisters. We deserve each other.”

  Katie laughed. “There’s probably some truth in that. So. Are you gonna go back to school?”

  “Yeah,” she said, smiling. “I think I might.”

  Katie nodded. “Good. We could use a doctor in the family.”

  “And you? When we get home, what’s the verdict on school?”

  Katie looked down at the ground, then straight into Willa’s eyes. “I’m thinking I’d like to make something of myself.”

  “Oh, Katie,” Willa said, her throat suddenly tight. “Then you will.”

  A light flicked on from the front porch at the house. A man in bib overalls stepped out, peering toward the barn. Owen got out of the Rover, walked up to greet him, calling his name. The man stopped, and they began to talk.

  Katie glanced at the two men. “What about you and Owen?”

  Willa dropped her gaze. “I’m not sure what to think about that.”

  “You’re not going to let something that good go, are you?”

  Willa glanced back at Owen, her gaze settling on his wide shoulders, the memory of everything they’d shared tonight already imprinted upon her like a permanent tattoo beneath the skin. “Sometimes,” she said, “it’s hard to be sure something is real.”

  “Sometimes,” Katie said, “it’s hard to be sure it isn’t.”

  * * *

  WHEN THEY GOT back to the house, Cline was waiting by the front door. Katie glanced at him, then ran upstairs without speaking.

  Cline wheeled around and headed for his room.

  Owen started to call him back, stopped, then looked at Willa. “Any idea what that’s all about?”

  “No, but they’ll get it worked out, I’m sure,” she said.

  He nodded, watched her for a moment. “What a night.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You must be tired.”

  “I’m just glad everything is all right.”

  “Me, too.”

  She glanced down at her hands, then met his gaze. “Thanks, Owen. For taking me to the cabin. For the dinner. And everything.”

  “Thanks for going.”

  They stood, awkward, uncertain.

  “Well, good night,” she said.

  “Good night.”

  She started up the stairs.

  “Willa?”

  She turned, looked back.

  “Tonight was—” He broke off there, left the rest hanging.

  “It was,” she said. It really was.

  * * *

  KATIE LAY IN BED, staring at the ceiling.

  It was nearly morning. Going to sleep seemed a waste of effort.

  She rolled over onto her side, punched her pillow. Closed her eyes and started counting.

  She flopped back over, eyes wide open.

  She let out a loud sigh. She couldn’t quit thinking about that look on Cline’s face when she’d come through the door a little while ago. He was mad at her. That much was impossible to miss.

  Which really pissed her off. She was the one who should be mad at him. He had left her at the party and never even said a word!

  She flung herself out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans with the T-shirt doubling as a nightgown. She marched down the stairs and followed the hall to Cline’s first-floor bedroom, rapped on the door.

  No answer. She turned the knob and stuck her head inside. “Cline?”

  He raised up on one elbow. “Katie? What are you doing?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Can’t it wait until morning?”

  “It is morning. And no, it can’t.”

  “I’m in bed in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I did,” she said, crossing the floor to sit down on the corner of the mattress. It was hard to look at him, now that she was actually here in his bedroom. Also hard not to.

  His wheelchair sat by the bed’s headboard.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She managed to look at him then, stared hard. His chest was bare, the muscles there surprisingly pronounced. “Why did you take off like that?” she finally asked, her voice rusty in her throat.

  “You noticed?”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “You seemed pretty into Matherson.”

  Katie let that stand for a moment. “Well, you had the wrong impression.”

  “Oh, I did?”

  “You did.”

  They looked at each other for several seconds, Katie’s heart thrumming.

  “I’m guessing Matherson got a little out of line,” Cline said.

  “A little.”

  His smile disappeared. “He’s going to have some trouble getting out of his driveway today.”

  Katie raised an eyebrow. “Did you go back out there?”

  “I did.”

  The sky outside Cline’s window had begun to lighten. He had taken up for her. Emotion tightened her chest. She looked down at her hands and said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  She glanced up at him and smiled. Again, they stared at each other, attraction crackling between them like stray lightning. He leaned forward, one hand cupping the side of her face.

  She bolted back, holding up one hand. “Just a minute, okay?”

  “Where are you going?”

  She didn’t answer, just tore down the hall and up the stairs to her bathroom where she grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, brushed, rinsed and spit at an Olympic-relay pace.

  She ran back down the stairs, down the hall, skidding to a stop beside the bed. “Where were we?”

  Cline smiled, reached f
or her hand and pulled her down beside him. “Right here.”

  * * *

  THAT MORNING, WILLA SAT in the kitchen finishing up the last of the journals. The final page had been written on the day Owen arrived in Pigeon Hollow.

  An enormous favor to ask, I know. Owen is a good man to do this for me. Don’t know how much time I have left, but I don’t want my life to end without meeting my daughter. It’s such a long road, this life. So hard to look ahead when we’re far from the final destination. But this is the one thing I would have taught her. To weed out the insignificant, look for what’s really important. To love and be loved. In the end, that’s all that matters.

  Willa closed the journal, sat with her hand on the cover, her throat tight. When she’d first learned of her father’s existence, she couldn’t have imagined that she would ever feel anything other than bitterness for the fact that he had not been a part of her life.

  The bitterness was gone now. In its place, something that felt like acceptance. And, too, gratitude. In coming to Lexington, she had followed a road that was opening up a future she had not thought possible.

  For the first time in so long, she wanted to be the woman she had once dreamed of being. She wouldn’t change a thing she had done for Katie. She and Katie were sisters again. And it was nice to think that she could be there for her without giving up the things she wanted as well.

  And there was Owen.

  Owen.

  She didn’t regret last night. How could she regret something that made her feel as if she’d found a missing piece of herself?

  For so long, she had feared that Katie would let her hurt over their mother’s rejection take over the rest of her life. But wasn’t that exactly what she had been doing as well by shutting herself off to dating, to the possibility of meeting someone who might be worthy of her trust? And, too, in putting aside her dreams? Deciding not to reach for fear of the fall.

  Owen had opened a door for her. And it wasn’t so scary on the other side. Willa realized now that she had let the setbacks in her life determine her future, that circumstance would toss you around if you let it. But no matter what happened—if what she and Owen had found ceased to exist once she left here—then she would still be the same person. A woman who had finally given herself permission to go after her own dreams.