“No!”
Peter jerked up in bed and took stock of the room around him. He wasn’t back in Kansas. Struggling to breathe, he thrust his hands into his hair and gripped the sides of his head.
Another nightmare. This time laced with a new element.
Whitney.
TWELVE
Tuesday, January 17
The room was dark as Whitney blinked and pushed herself up to sit. If only she could sleep longer, but the need for the privy pushed her.
With a groan, she stretched and worked to free her mind of the cobwebs. Why was her brain so muddled?
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Madysen’s usually singsong voice was anything but. It held a tinge of anger.
Whitney turned toward the sound. “What are you doing in my room?”
A lantern lit. Havyn’s face wasn’t any happier than Maddy’s voice.
The warm glow helped her to see her sisters standing at the foot of her bed. Grim. Serious.
In Havyn’s right hand ...
The whiskey bottle.
No! Whitney surged to her feet.
Havyn held out the bottle. “We’re tryingnotto jump to any conclusions here, but we heard a thud as we were heading to the kitchen. It was this. And you were dead asleep.”
“What’s going on, Whit?” Madysen put her hands on her hips.
Whitney’s stomach roiled. She understood their accusatory tones, they’d grown up with the same father she had. But still ... she didn’t want to explain. “Peter gave me a bottle of tonic to help with the headaches and uneasiness after the attack.”
Both sisters softened a bit. Good. At least they were listening.
“Since the tonic was mostly whiskey, I refill the small flask with that.” She nodded toward the bottle still in the white-knuckled grip of her pregnant sister.
“You refill it? Often?” Maddy’s voice softened. As if she couldn’t believe it.
“No.” What could she say? “Only as needed.”
“Might I remind you that this home has never had alcohol in it because of the demons it produced in our father?” Havyn’s brows knit together.
“Youare the one who reminds us time and again of the pain Dad caused with his drinking. Howcouldyou?” Maddy looked about ready to cry.
Whitney’s body tensed, and it was her turn to place her hands on her hips. “You know very well that Granddad had that locked up in his cabinet for medicinal purposes. That’s what this is. Peter knows about it. You have no idea what I’ve had to endure and the pain these headaches cause me.”
“Aren’t you afraid of ending up like Dad?” Havyn’s voice had lost some of its edge.
How could she get them to see? She wasn’t like their dad. Not. One. Bit. “I’m not drinking for the sake of drinking, I promise. I can’t even stand the taste of the stuff. It’s only for the pain.”
Havyn shook her head. “I don’t know, Whit. This scares me. You wouldn’t wake up.”
Guilt pricked at her conscience, but she wouldn’t give it entrance. “I’m fine. You both have enough to worry about without having to fret over me.”
“You’re oursister! Of course we’re going to worry. You haven’t been acting like yourself.” Maddy stepped forward and tried to put a hand on Whitney’s arm.
