“Simon’s with Kyle?”
“I don’t know. Simon went around the back of the cabin to see what Kyle was doing inside, but then he came running out and yelled at me to find you. He looked scared, Sheriff Luke. I’m sorry I ran away, but Simon told me to.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You did the right thing.” To calm himself as much as Charlie, he gave her a big bear hug before lowering her to the ground. “I need you to keep going right on this path, okay? It’ll take you back to camp—”
“I’m going with you.” She captured his hand and dragged him back over the hill. “Faster, please. Kyle scares me. He scares Simon, too, even though he won’t admit it.”
They’d no sooner reached the clearing than he saw Kyle near the trees, dragging Simon along the ground. “He fell,” Kyle called as Luke ran forward. “I swear he fell, Sheriff. I didn’t mean to scare him so bad.” Charlie stayed glued to Luke’s side, one hand deep in Cash’s neck as she eyed Kyle.
Luke stopped breathing. Blood coursed down the front of Simon’s face from the gash across his forehead. His glasses were gone and there was a large welt across his nose. He was sickly pale. He reached out his hand to check Simon’s pulse. Only when he felt a steady beat under his fingers could he breathe again. “Okay. Kyle, you head back to camp, tell Jake what’s going on. Charlie, you stay with me.”
The fact Kyle didn’t hesitate to go racing back to camp told Luke there was a lot more to the story than the kid was willing to admit, but Luke’s first concern had to be Simon.
“Is he going to be okay?” Charlie asked as Luke bent down and hefted Simon into his arms. He cradled the boy’s head against his shoulder, trying not to jostle him too much as he double-timed it to camp. “There’s blood.”
“Head wounds bleed a lot.” Luke tried not to focus on the blood or the deadweight in his arms. Tried not to remember the last time... “We’ll get him to the emergency room...”
“Shouldn’t we call 911?” Charlie asked as she ran to keep up with him. It was then Luke noticed she had a hand locked around Simon’s ankle. “Mom always says to call 911 when there’s blood.”
“It’ll be faster if I drive him,” Luke said. He should have chosen somewhere closer to the road. EMTs wouldn’t be able to maneuver around those roads very easily, and the time they wasted waiting for the ambulance would be just that: wasted. “You’re being very brave, Charlie.”
“Sidekicks are always brave.” Luke glanced down as Charlie lifted her chin. “We’re the backup.”
“Well, Simon’s lucky to have you.” If only Simon had been as lucky to have Luke. His previous conversation with Holly took on a new light. He’d sworn never to break another promise, never to let anyone else down. But history had a vicious sense of irony where Luke was concerned. He’d been too late to save Carter.
Not this time. “Stay with me, kid,” he whispered as he caught sight of their camp and his truck. This was going to be the longest ride of his life.
* * *
“WHERE IS HE?” Holly slammed through the emergency room doors. “Simon? Luke?” The dam burst. “Simon?”
It was prom night all over again: her father’s accident, her mother leaving, the fear, the not knowing... How was it possible she’d have this nightmare a second time? It was incomprehensible her son might be... Holly struggled to stave off a panic attack, but her entire body was trembling hard enough to register on the Richter scale. Alive. Her father had said Simon was alive and that he was with Luke and Charlie. But that was all he’d said before his phone had died.
“Holly, wait.” Abby clutched her arm and pulled her over to the woman on duty at the registration counter. “We’re looking for Simon Campbell. Eight-year-old boy? We were told he’d been brought in.”
The middle-aged nurse turned kind, understanding eyes on Holly. “Yes, Sheriff Saxon brought him in a little while ago. They’re right through there. Wait, are you all family?” Paige and Abby were right on Holly’s heels.
“Yes!” Holly plowed through the double metal doors. “Luke? Where’s Simon?” She pressed a hand against her heart as she spotted Luke sitting in one of the metal-backed chairs. The color was gone from his face, his eyes empty, as if...
Holly sobbed, tears flooding her eyes. “Simon?” she squeaked. Luke sat forward and Charlie hopped down from her chair to run to her mother.
“You okay?” Paige whispered, skimming her hands down Charlie’s sides as if searching for injuries.
“Five by five,” Charlie said with a nod. “Sheriff Luke took good care of us. I’ve never been in a car that fast before!”
“Where is he?” Holly asked Luke as he got to his feet. She refused to register the grief on his face, the sadness and fright she saw in his eyes. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“He’s going to be fine, Holly. He took a fall, that’s all.” Luke shoved his hands into his pockets, and only then did she see the dark patch of blood on the front of his shirt.
Her mouth went dry. “Is that—?” Was that her son’s blood?
Luke’s face went white as he glanced down, and for a moment, Holly worried he might pass out. “I got him here as fast as I could. Holly, I’m so sor—”
“Sheriff?”
A doctor approached, his white coat stark against the blue-green scrubs of Holly’s worst memories. She squeezed her eyes shut, grabbed hold of Luke’s arm. She couldn’t do this again. Not after her father. Not after Gray.
“Doctor Peterson, this is Holly Campbell,” Luke said. “Simon’s mother.”
“Is he really okay?” Part of her died as she waited to hear. What would she do if...?
“Simon’s going to be fine,” Dr. Peterson said. “Mild concussion, a few scrapes and bruises. A couple days’ rest and he’ll be back to normal. There will be a scar,” he added. “Simon’s pretty excited about it, if that helps.”
Holly’s laugh sounded like a sob of hysteria breaking free. “It does. Please.” She gripped Luke’s arm harder. “I want to see him.”
“Of course. This way.”
“I’ll wait here,” Luke said.
“We all will,” Abby chimed in. “We aren’t going anywhere.”
Even knowing her son would be all right, the walk down the hall to Simon’s room felt like a death march. She flashed between the past and now, the same terror crowding her chest as she struggled to take slow, controlled breaths. He was okay, she kept chanting to herself. Simon was okay. She dropped her purse inside his room as the energy and emotion flooded out of her. “Simon.”
“Hi, Mom.” The sheepish look on his pale face let Holly know he definitely had some explaining to do, but right now all she could do was stare at him and be grateful he was fine. He pointed at his forehead as the nurse finished taping a bandage to his face. “The doctor said I’m going to have a scar.”
“So I hear.” Why, oh, why were little boys such a trial? “You don’t look so bad.” Who was she kidding? He looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with Bigfoot. There was a bruise on his left cheek and smears of blood down the sides of his face, but his smile eased the heaviness in her heart. He was alive, awake. Talking. There wouldn’t be any surgeries or life-altering injuries.
“I need to talk to Sheriff Luke,” Simon announced as Holly wrapped him in her arms and squeezed. “Mom, you’re squishing me.” He squirmed, but she only held on tighter, rocking him until he gave up and sagged against her. “Mom, please don’t cry. I’m okay, I promise.”
“I’m entitled.” She pressed her lips to the top of his head, waiting for the relief to surge. “You’re all I’ve got, bud. I love you so much, but you’ve got to stop scaring me like this.”
“I scared Charlie and Sheriff Luke, too.” Did he have to sound so proud of himself? “But I’m okay.”
“I know.” Holly swiped at her tears and leaned ag
ainst the elevated bed. She stroked a hand down the side of his face and for an instant saw the same carefree, reckless light his father had possessed his entire life. So much like Gray. Until now she hadn’t realized how much that terrified her. “What happened?”
“I have to tell Sheriff Luke first,” Simon said. “I have to file my report, but I don’t know where my notebook is. Do you have it?”
“File your—” Holly groaned. Simon and his one-track mind. But she couldn’t blame him for it. Simon was who he was. Who she’d guided him to becoming. Luke had guided, too, it seemed since Simon’s focus had shifted from superhero to deputy. Luke. She needed to talk to Luke and assure him Simon really was okay. He didn’t look convinced. “After this, you’ll be lucky if I let you out of your room, let alone the house again.”
“Then, how will you go to work?” Simon mumbled against her shoulder as he hugged her again.
“How will I—” Holly let the laughter take over. “I’ll manage. We’ll manage. You know you’re running out of luck, right?” If a collection of butterfly bandages across his forehead could be considered lucky.
“Deputies don’t need luck,” Simon whined.
“Your mother’s right,” Luke said from the doorway. “Consider yourself on leave,” Luke ordered.
“Did you find Kyle?” Simon demanded. “Or my notebook? I made drawings about...”
“He ran off after telling your grandfather what happened. I’m heading to the station now to start looking for him. We’ll find him.”
“He won’t tell you the truth.” Simon tried to sit up, but Holly kept him in place with a firm hand. “That’s why I needed evidence. I was right. He’s going to do something really bad, Sheriff. I wrote it all down. Charlie and I followed him—”
“I can’t believe you dragged Charlie into this,” Holly admonished. “You’re lucky she wasn’t hurt, too.”
“I only brought her along because she wouldn’t let me leave the tent without her,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes, but then he winced, as if he suddenly realized he had a headache. “Ow.”
“Get some rest.” Luke said, coming over to the bed and patting Simon’s foot through the blanket. “I’ll come back in a bit and we can talk about it then.”
“But—” Simon turned pleading eyes between the two of them. “What about the gu—”
“You heard the sheriff,” Holly added. “Get some rest. Now.”
Simon grumbled something incoherent as he slammed against the mattress and crossed his arms, a scowl on his face.
Holly approached Luke, but he walked away from her to lean against the wall, head down as he stared at the floor. “I am so sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?” Holly frowned. “Luke, he’s an eight-year-old boy. He’s going to take some tumbles. Granted, he seems to take them with a bit more flair than most—”
Luke’s head snapped up. “How can you joke about this? It’s my fault he’s in there, my fault he got hurt. I’m the one who thought it was a good idea to bring Kyle along. And now...” He rubbed at his hands and the blood that was still on them. “I promised you he’d be okay. When I think of what could have happened—”
“Luke.” Holly had to bat at his hands so she could hold them. “You got him here. You were there when he needed you. There’s nothing more you could have done—”
“I could have kept my distance.” The hostility and defeat in his voice spoke of something more than an injured eight-year-old, and Holly went cold. He was disappearing before her eyes, folding into himself and vanishing. “I should never have let myself believe... No one’s safe around me, Holly.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and even then he cringed when she released his hand to stroke his face. “I’m poison. For all of you.”
“You’re overreacting,” Holly whispered, her heart breaking. He took so much—too much—on himself. When was he going to understand he couldn’t control the world? “Luke, I don’t blame you.”
“Not this time, maybe.” He blinked into her eyes, and the sadness she saw there drove the breath from her lungs. “But there will come a time when you will, and I can’t bear that.”
“I will never blame you. You’re the best man I know.” Holly couldn’t hold back any longer, she had to admit what had been growing since the moment Luke Saxon returned to Butterfly Harbor. The one thing he needed to know. “I love you.” Saying the words were like a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. “Luke...”
The look of horror he gave her was like a bucket of ice water in her face. “You can’t, Holly.” He gripped her wrists and squeezed hard, as if willing her to accept what he was saying. “I’m not worth it. Just...please, let me go.”
He walked away, leaving Holly feeling more alone than she ever had before.
* * *
LUKE WAS STARTING down the porch stairs when Jake pulled his car into the drive later that afternoon, tires grinding over gravel.
Cash gave a weak bark, tail wagging as Luke headed toward Holly’s father. “Any word on Kyle?” Jake asked as he climbed out of the car.
“Nothing. I’m heading back out in a few minutes. Stopped by to get cleaned up. Simon doing okay?”
“Simon’s fine. Holly’s already got him home and into bed. I dropped our campers off home. They were worried about Simon, but disappointed the trip had to end. I promised we’d make it up to them in a couple of weeks, after the youth center is up and running.”
Luke nodded. He knew Jake would take care of things.
“How are you doing?” Jake leaned against the hood of his car and stared him down. “I heard about what happened at the hospital between you and Holly. You’re a lot of things, Luke Saxon, but I never pegged you as a coward.”
The accusation struck harder than any punch Luke’s father had ever landed, but he dodged it with remembered ease. “Funny. That’s the first thing Holly called me when I got into town.”
“Blaming yourself for what happened to Simon is stupid, Luke. The kid’s young, eager and most important knew better than to leave camp—Kyle or no Kyle.”
“That boy was my responsibility.” Luke clenched his fists as he reeled between past failures. “I should have been paying closer attention. Holly told me to, but no. I had to go and trust he knew what he was doing. That he’d be okay without me standing right there, protecting him—”
“Simon is not Carter Owen.”
Luke couldn’t believe his ears.
“What happened in Chicago wasn’t your fault.” The frustration and anger in Jake’s voice evaporated as the sympathy Luke loathed erupted in his mentor’s eyes. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for Carter’s death. It was an accident, Luke. A horrific, unfortunate accident.”
Luke frowned. “What do you know about it? You weren’t there.” His throat ached, his entire body flashed between hot and cold as he struggled to keep the memories at bay. But all he could hear was that explosion; all he could feel was the fire blasting over his head and around his body. And the smell... His stomach rolled. “You didn’t see the look on his face, that smile, as if he could control that bomb I knew he had no business being around—” He felt himself choking on the grief, bitter and unforgiving. “You weren’t there.”
“And you still are! Your superior officer ordered him into that house.” Jake arched a brow. “I read that report, Luke. You protested. Vociferously. You even defied a direct order and put yourself in that space with him and the other trainees. You were the one who shouldn’t have been there, but you did what you knew was right. Because that’s who you are. It’s who you’ve always been. And look what it cost you. You could have died.”
“How—?” Luke blinked, trying to shake the truth free. “The reports were sealed.” To protect the guilty. To protect those at the senior level and the entire program. “How do you know this?”
“Becau
se believe it or not, even a small-town sheriff has some friends in high places.” Jake glared at him. “Do you really think I’d have brought you back here if I thought for one moment you were responsible for that boy’s death? That I’d want someone dangerous in my town whom I didn’t trust or believe in? Around Holly or Simon? You let yourself take the fall because you felt responsible. Noble. But misguided.”
“I was responsible!” Luke tried to step aside, but Jake wasn’t having it. He followed. “Carter’s training was on me. So what if he shouldn’t have been in that situation? Yes, it was too soon but—” But. Luke’s head began to clear. But Captain Traynor had insisted his team was ready to take on new challenges. He’d overridden Luke’s protests by praising Luke’s training abilities to make his men able to handle any situation.
Luke blinked. Was it possible...Jake was right?
“Your boss never should have given that order, son. Carter Owen never should have been near that bomb from the start. But you had his back. You always have everyone’s back. Now you need to be smart enough to pull your head out of the past and give yourself a fighting chance. Simon is not Carter. Simon is alive and well and probably driving Holly nuts already. He’s alive, Luke. And believe it or not, whether you like it or not, so are you. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can get on with your life. One that should include Holly.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HOLLY FLIPPED AIMLESSLY through the TV channels trying to land on something to take her mind off the day. She hit the volume control before it woke Simon. She’d promised Simon they could go back to the campsite and look for his notebook tomorrow if his head didn’t hurt.
Holly rubbed her fingers into gritty, sleepy eyes. Compromise wasn’t in her eight-year-old’s vocabulary—at least not today. The fact Simon had settled into bed and dropped off to sleep for—she glanced at her watch—two hours of silence seemed an impossible blessing. Barely three in the afternoon. Was it too early for wine?
The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor Page 20
