The girls, beside the truck now, bolted toward her. “Aunt Jackie!”
Jackie opened her arms, accepting hugs from the little ones. “Wow! Izzy you got so tall. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you guys.”
Nora squealed. “Are you sharing a cabin with us?”
“You bet I am!”
Izzy asked, “Can we sleep together?”
Hollie chuckled. “No, Izzy, we are going to let your auntactuallysleepthis weekend.”
Jackie pressed past the girls and wrapped her arms around Hollie’s neck. She whispered while they embraced, “It’s been so long, Holls. You stay away from us too much.”
An expression flickered over Hollie’s face, and I felt like I’d overheard something I wasn’t supposed to. “I know.”
“We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
I stepped back to give them space.
But Jackie let go and turned to me. “One heck of a day, huh, Jesse?”
“No kidding.”
“We heard what happened. You hanging in there?”
“Best I can.”
She lifted her hands to her hips and looked around the darkness. “Where’s Cade?”
“He’s already headed off to bed.”
“I bet he’s beat.” Jackie smiled. “Well, everyone is relieved things ended the way they did.”
Nora, holding Jackie’s hand and bouncing up and down with excitement, squeaked, “Show us where you are sleeping!”
Izzy, already moving toward the cabin door, pushed it open and waved everyone inside. “Come on!”
Nora practically dragged Jackie up onto the porch and through the front door. The three of them vanished as the lights around the cabin flicked on, glowing through the blinds. Before Hollie could protest, I scooped her into my arms just like I had at McDonalds—who cared if it didn’t hurt. This time, she didn’t fight and her arms clasped around the back of my neck.
Her scent wrapped around me—something apple-like or maybe peachy. I fought the urge to squeeze her closer and take a deep breath of her hair. Standing in the angled shadows on the porch, I stooped, placing her feet on the wooden deck.
She squeezed me as she found her footing. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Let me get your bags.” I went back to the truck, gathered up their things, and dragged their rolling suitcase up to the door. My heart sagged in my chest. I knew I’d see Hollie more over the weekend, but not like this.
I marveled at the disappointment unfurling in my chest as I turned to her.
Spring nights in Meadowbrook were quiet compared to summer. Summers were accompanied by a dense roar of noises—bullfrogs,insects, coyotes. In spring, the sounds were muted, quiet—a reminder of the life in the darkness, but not overpowering yet.
A swell of emotions rose in my throat as Hollie looked up at me. My eyes darted to my cabin then back to her, and I swallowed hard, realizing I’d hardly begun to process everything that had happened. The day had passed like a whirlwind, and I knew I’d only come to terms with what transpired after I laid my head on the pillow that night. Every shocking thing in my life hit after a delay.
A breeze, gentle and warm, rustled the trees above us. Hollie’s curls around her temple swept across her face. Without thinking twice, I reached up to tuck one over her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed as my fingers moved across her temple, and when she held my gaze again, my whisper was low and emotion-laden. “Thank you, Hollie.”
I couldn’t be sure who moved first.
I stepped forward, she shuffled closer. I bent and my arms loosely circled her waist while hers looped around my shoulders. My voice cracked as I spoke into the top of her shoulder, “Thank you—so much.”
