“By coming back here, you mean?” I spin around and splay my arms out wide. “Surprise!”
It’s light enough now to make out Dean’s frown. I think it’ssafe to say he received my unplanned arrival as well as my dad did.
“It’s a happy surprise.”
“Tell that to Superintendent Hart.” I turn away from him. “Seems like the two of you are thick as thieves these days.”
He reaches out and snags my bare arm. “Wait.”
The sudden stop jolts me around. He bears his apology in his eyes.
“Tell me how to fix things between us. How can I make it up to you?”
He went back on his promise. I don’t know how he’s supposed to change that now.
“After all those years watching me miss him… you made it so I had to miss you too.”
He runs a palm along the back of his neck. “I didn’t…”
I wait for him to finish that sentence, but he’s searching the sky to pick the right words. It’s taking him way too long to put them together into an “I’m sorry.”
“You know what, I think this might have been a mistake,” I say.
“What part?”
“Me coming back here. Us taking this hike.” Because I’m a lot more winded than I should be for someone standing stalk still. “I’m gonna head back,” I add.
“Hayes, just talk to me.Please. IpromiseI’ll listen.”
Had he said anything else, I’d have probably stayed. Heard what more he has to say. But that word.Promise. It’s a bitter reminder. Why should I believe this time will be any different?
“That’s the funny thing about promises. You either keep them or you break them.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REED
12 years old
Iwatch in horror as the embers lick at the bed of pine needles around us and skitter across the ground.
“Reed! What have you done!” Dad screams from behind me.
Jack races for his truck and pulls a long, hoe-like tool and shovel from the back end. He tosses the tiller to my dad.
“Start scraping away anything that can burn… sticks, weeds, pine needles. You’re going to have to get kind of close,” he instructs as he jams the tip of his shovel against the packed dirt. It only penetrates a couple inches below the surface, but he dumps the excess off the end and tries again.
“Come on!” He hollers at my dad, who startles from his stunned state.
He’s clumsier than Jack with jittery nerves and wobbly arms. But he does what he’s told, scraping away all of the random brush from the trench.
“What can I do to help?” I ask.
“You’ve done enough,” my dad barks back, but Jack intervenes.
“There’s another shovel. Bring it to me.”
I run faster than I ever have before. Climb onto the tailgate and drag it back by the wooden handle.
