What Tears Us Down: A Single Dad Standalone Romance (Arrow Creek Book 3)

by A. M. Wilson

  As much as I’d like to stay and admire the view—the contrasts of grays and browns coloring the expanse of cliffs and water and sky—I turn on a heel and begin our trek down to outrun the storm.

  Over halfway down, the thoughts continue to pummel me. My feelings for Rhett grow like a plant reaching for sunbeams. I kick a rock from my path while recalling the startled butterfly wings in my stomach at his laidback smile or whispered commands. The way he calls me Rosie when he’s flirting and turned on.

  Without Rhett, I don’t know if I would have been strong enough to remain in Arrow Creek. A few pleading phone calls from Eric and Caiti would have broken me down in a matter of days to weeks. But those dark nights sharing a meal, a front seat, liberating our demons and revealing our dreams, brought us closer while allowing me to heal from the mountains of guilt I’ve been harboring.

  The problem is I’m still not where I need to be. I relied on a man for most of my adulthood for support, and when I left him with nothing but my dog and my belongings, I vowed not to fall headlong into that path again. Now my options feel thinner than a papercut.

  Either allow Rhett to help me get on my feet or push him away until I’m ready, hoping he sticks around until then.

  The crazy feelings soaring to life when he’s near scream option one, even though I’ve learned the hard way that fairy tales aren’t reality.

  Those same crazy feelings whisper he’ll be waiting if I choose option two.

  But will he?

  With the way I left him and Tommy last night, I guess we’ll eventually see.

  A warm droplet lands on the bridge of my nose, a foreshadow of what’s to come. Ghost and I break into a hustle while the rain escalates in frequency. The warm summer droplets quickly turn cold as the temperature plunges with the storm front.

  The trailhead appears a few hundred feet in the distance as the first crack of thunder rings out. Ghost lets out a startled bark as we sprint for shelter. I slip across a wet, flat rock—a warning to ease my pace. Falling out here in the rain and breaking my neck doesn’t sound like a good idea. The recognizable song I set for Eric’s cell jingles from my phone in my back pocket, barely heard above the storm.

  I let it go to voicemail, feeling an instant punch of guilt for not picking up when he’s so far away. I usually don’t miss a call.

  The immediate call back stutters my heart. Even running through the rain, I dig the device out and punch the answer button.

  “Hold on, I’m running through a rainstorm and nearly at my car.”

  Silence greets me from the other end, and I take the lack of sound as an indication of patience. I dig my keys from my pocket as a quiet sniffle reaches me.

  “Eric? Are you there?” I raise my voice to be understood above the torrent of rain. Looking down at my clothes, I smile at the soaking wet mess.

  Before I can get the door open, a single word stops me dead in my tracks.

  “Evie.”

  The pure agony laced through my name slices me right open.

  26

  Rhett

  A boom of thunder tightens the coil of tension in my gut. The sizzle of lightning that swiftly follows turns my grip on the door to white-knuckled. I lean half out of the foyer, gazing at the tree line at the end of the driveway as if I can conjure her to appear. A text steals my attention from the vacant concrete.

  Law: Cami says she hasn’t spoken to her today.

  I lower my phone to my side in a grip so tight I could crack the thing in half. Hours have passed since Evie text me about going for a hike. I left her alone, knowing how peaceful nature can be to tumultuous thoughts. A small part of me hoped she’d take the time alone to sort out what she wants for us. The other was just glad she’d texted me her plans at all after how we left last night.

  In an attempt to quiet my own deliberations this morning, I played with Tommy, fed him lunch, and laid him down for a nap. The moment rain started pinging off the roof, I sent out a string of texts. I asked her to come over rather than ride out the storm in her car and promised I wouldn’t beg her to stay after the weather cleared.

  Silence greeted me.

  Thirty minutes have trickled by since and each minute beyond drags me further into a type of worry I’ve never experienced. I’m one of the lucky ones. Loss hasn’t touched me except in the form of adultery and divorce. This situation and the status of our relationship have me pondering the course of action least likely to overstep. The fear induced at her lack of response makes it impossible to think straight.

  A nasty gust of cold air pushes forward, and I step back inside with a clear decision. She might be wanting a bit of peace, but ensuring her safety is my priority. The trail isn’t for beginners. Add in wet rocks and a torrent of rain, and there’s a strong possibility she’s hurt somewhere.

  The fifteen-minute wait between asking Law to bring Cami over and their arrival sends my heart into overdrive. My hands ache from the number of times I’ve clenched them. Every rumble of thunder and flash of lightning heightens my apprehension until I’m about to sprint out the damn door. Only the thought of my son fast asleep in his bed holds me back.

  The sound of tires approaching propels me out the door, throwing my arms into the sleeves of a water-resistant coat. Law’s truck pulling up the drive doesn’t quiet the static noise bouncing around my skull. An instant disappointment eclipses any hope that maybe she’d arrived after all.

  “Tommy’s down for his nap,” I shout to be heard over the rainfall.

  Cami rushes through the rain toward me. “Go. I’ve got him.” Worry creases her face in lines.

  “Nathan’s heading out too,” Law says as I pass by on the way to my Jeep parked next to him.

  “Tell him to head for the hiking trails. We’ll meet him there.”

  Law nods and hops back into his truck.

  I climb in my Jeep, crank the engine, and back my way down the driveway. A short pause is all I give before backing into the road and taking off, Law following close behind.

  Halfway down the road, I crank the heat, warming the car for the possibility she’s been out in the cold for a while. Wipers at high speed send the water sluicing away in all directions, but my visibility remains nonexistent.

  My fingers twist the fibers of the steering wheel as I drive by the place we met. The likelihood that her phone died and she’s riding out the storm is slim. Even with a request for space, she’d come to me during inclement weather. She knows me well enough to know I’d come looking if she didn’t. Hell or high water. Literally.

  “Fuck,” I growl, hearing a ping from hail hitting the roof. Could this get any worse? Thinking about the possibilities gnaws my stomach in answer. Fucking yes, it could.

  She could be hurt.

  She could be lost.

  I might not be able to find her.

  She could have left.

  The last one forces my foot harder against the gas pedal, the engine revving at the burst of speed.

  She wouldn’t leave me. Not without telling me. Not without speaking her mind in that easy-going way she has about her.

  But the alternative is she’s injured, so for the moment, thinking she simply left is easier.

  The last turn to the trail appears suddenly, disguised by the sheet of rain pouring around me. A sudden burst of lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating the entrance. I crank the wheel and direct the Jeep up the modest slope, leaning forward in my seat as if the new position will enhance my visibility.

  The white Lexus is the only car in the lot. The passenger side faces me, but the rain obscures any occupants inside.

  I slam my shifter in park fifteen feet away, not caring about running the remaining distance. The engine purrs beside me as I take off in her direction. Water pummels my face, trickling down my neck beneath my hood. The cool droplets do nothing to stave off the hot worry simmering beneath my skin.

  I don’t need to cup my hands against the window to tell it’s unoccupied. I do anyway, a hollow
ache at finding it empty. My gaze follows the direction of the trail we hike as I round the hood, coming to an immediate halt when I glance the other way.

  “Anything?” Law asks above the sound of rainfall.

  “Evie!” I roar, the chains on my emotions falling free at finding her.

  Propped with her back against the driver’s side of her car, her pale face tips to the drenching heavens. Her closed eyes and the tint of her normally pink lips send a spike of fear from head to heel.

  Gravel pops beneath my shoes as I skid to a stop and drop to my knees beside her. Rocks stab into my knees through my jeans, but the sensation hardly penetrates the fog of fear.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Her teeth chatter behind blueish lips. Her head rolls to each side once in what appears to be her answer before she changes direction, nodding her head forceful and continuous.

  “Yes!” she screams, instantly tearing my heart into two at the obvious anguish. Her fisted hands punch the solid ground on either side of her while she draws her knees to her chest.

  “Baby, Rosie, stop. Stop!” I command, needing to break through to her. I grab her soaking hoodie and haul her into my chest, wrapping her tight. “What’s happened?”

  “He’s gone,” she divulges in the barest whisper. A clap of thunder punctuates the finality of her words.

  “Who’s gone, baby?” I ask gently, already forming the answer in my gut without her confirmation. A crack of lightning precedes her response.

  “Eric. H-He died.”

  Fuck. I curse repeatedly in my head. The unforgiving thorns of compassion burrow deep with her words. She’s going to need a lot more than a warm shower to wake up from this nightmare, but priority number one is persuading her to get out of the rain before she ends up in a hospital bed.

  “I’m so sorry, baby.” The raspy, inadequate words float between us. “We need to get you dry.”

  “I don’t want to go,” she chokes out between sobs. “This is the last place I saw him alive.”

  Her pain eviscerates me.

  “We can come back after the rain. We’ll come back a thousand times,” I vow. “Come on, Evie.”

  She glances at me, tear-soaked cheeks disguised by the falling rain. “I don’t think I can.”

  As the angry storm whips around us, she no longer has a choice. I can’t do anything to help Eric, but I can do something to help her. The color of her skin and uncontrollable shaking convince me she’s in danger of hypothermia.

  “Where’s Ghost?” Maybe changing her attention to someone else she loves will help break through.

  “She’s near. I have her leash.” The sodden piece of material hangs limp angled behind her.

  Law crouches down to peer beneath the car. “She’s hiding. Let me get her to my truck.”

  Evie relinquishes the leash without a fight. As Law loads Ghost up, I free my cell and punch Nathan’s contact info.

  “What do you need?”

  “Change of plans. We got her. She’s been sitting in the rain for over an hour. Get over to my place. We need blankets and warm fluids. And I need Cami.” I break through the constriction in my throat. “Her brother died.”

  “Ah, damn. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Can you ask Cami if she’ll help? If it’s too painful…” I let the statement trail. Cami lost her brother a long time ago. Knowing she pushed past her pain to become the woman she is today fills me with hope. Maybe she can support Evie through the same.

  “She’ll help,” Law states firmly upon his return, knowing the woman he’s loved since they were kids like his own right hand.

  “Any medic skills might be needed as well,” I speak back into the phone.

  “We’ll be ready,” Nathan responds in an even tone.

  “Be there as soon as I can.” My throat nearly closes on the last word as the mountain before us reveals the treacherous climb. Evie’s going to need people to rally, and I’m thankful I have a group ready to take up the task. Good people. The best. The kind that will love and support her through it all.

  Running back through the downpour reveals her in the same position. Her vacant stare hardens my determination to help. I won’t stop until she’s back to the Evie I’ve come to love.

  That realization blasts through the brick wall I’ve constructed around my heart.

  Brushing those thoughts aside, I situate one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her securely into my arms.

  Rather than fight, she cries and buries her face in my hood.

  “It hurts,” she whimpers through the tears.

  “I know, baby.”

  “E-Everything hurts so bad.”

  “I’ve got you,” I vow. Law has the passenger door to my Jeep open before we’re close. I deposit her safely inside. “Hang on, Evie.”

  “Meet you back at the house,” Law says.

  “Thank you,” I manage to say, grateful for my friend though my attention is elsewhere.

  The heavy slam of my door once I climb inside mutes the thundering storm. Evie’s uncontrollable chattering fills the confines of my Jeep and prompts me out of my clothes. I toss the dripping jacket into the back.

  “Lift your arms. We have to get you out of these clothes.”

  She participates by limply lifting her arms with as much strength as I assume she can muster. She’s been in this cold rain for a while, and I know from experience it doesn’t take a snowstorm to become hypothermic. Weakness will set in along with muscle cramps if we don’t get her warmed up.

  I ease each arm out, then pull the sopping material over her head. The sweatshirt lands with a splat on the floormat. My dry sweatshirt, warmed by body heat, comes next, and I immediately place it over her head and cover her shoulders. With a bit of modesty protected, I unsnap her bra from the clasp in the back.

  “Rhett!” She gasps, the word a minuscule break through her fog.

  “You need dry clothes. Put your arms in,” I order in a voice intended to prevent any arguments.

  She carefully threads each arm through while I grab my jacket and hop back out into the rain. When I open her door, her head jerks to the side. The wide-eyed stare drives a stake into my heart. I cup her cold cheek, brushing away the wetness of lingering tears mixed with raindrops.

  “I need to remove your pants. Can you help?”

  A sharp nod provides the permission to curl my fingers into the waistband and pull.

  “Lift your hips for me.”

  She provides assistance. The wet material clings to every curve on the way down, making the task twice as difficult. One at a time, I remove her shoes and socks, pressing a soft kiss to her thigh as I do so. Once free of the cold items, I point the vents in her direction.

  “Hang on. I’ve got you.”

  As I turn to leave, she suddenly grips my wrist with a strength that belies her condition.

  “Don’t let go,” she pleads.

  “You’re stuck with me now.” I lock eyes with her, delivering as much fortitude as I can muster.

  Those spoken words seal my destiny. I don’t plan on going anywhere.

  27

  Evie

  My eyelids crack open, brittle and dry from the mix of tears and rain. A drum pounds a rhythm in my skull as the car comes to a complete stop. Seconds pass as the familiar tree-lined drive penetrates my consciousness.

  Followed swiftly by a sharp pain in my chest with the returned memory of the phone call.

  Fresh tears slip warmly down my cheeks while a new sob shakes my shoulders. My door opens, drawing my attention away from the agony ripping a perpetual hole into my soul. Nothing will ever fill what the loss of Eric leaves behind. Cami waits beside the Jeep, holding open a massive brown blanket. Loose strands of her brown hair stick to her forehead from the rain.

  “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice frank and businesslike, as the paramedic side of her dominates the part of her that’s become my friend.

  “Y-Yes,” I croak and
shift to climb out. Cold rain pelts my bare legs, but Cami’s there in an instant, covering me with the warm blanket. Rhett joins her before I can step out and relieves her of the task. He tucks the blanket securely around me, embracing me in a bear hug and wrapping my legs snug around his waist.

  “I don’t want your feet to get dirty,” he murmurs in my ear.

  The energy required to respond is depleted. I close my eyes and allow the gentle sway of his steps to lull me. A numbness spreads beneath my skin like a barrier, and I welcome the change from the constant pricks of grief perforating me.

  “Bring her into the guest bath,” Cami says, her voice trailing us.

  Rhett sets me gently onto the closed toilet lid. I spare the room I cleaned on my hands and knees not long ago a quick glance, but I feel nothing. Not shame. Not anger for losing this client, or fear for surviving on my own. Nothing other than the gaping hole where my heart used to be.

  My brother is gone.

  “I’ve got her,” Cami says softly and shoos Rhett away.

  His lips connect with my forehead in a lingering kiss. The spot in the center of my head continues to tingle after he pulls back. He lifts my chin, pinning me with his sorrow-filled eyes.

  “I’ll be just outside, okay?”

  A jerky nod is the most I can manage. My vocal cords still burn from screaming my anguish in the rain.

  Cami works around without my help. She takes my vitals with efficiency and speed.

  “Your temp is low, ninety-three degrees. I think we can manage warming you up here. Are you feeling all right physically?”

  “I’m tired.”

  “I know.” She lays her hand over my shoulder.

  “There’s so much to do. I have to get my car. I need to get on a plane right now. I have to help somehow.” Hot tears prick my eyes. “Caiti needs me.”

  “We’re going to help you, okay? I’ll get Kiersten on the phone with the airline to book you a flight. We can watch Ghost until you’re able to come back, and if you leave your client list, I can call and let them know you need to leave town for a bit.”