She stared at him a moment, then her eyes flicked to the pack. He’d already secured the tent onto it. Eva didn’t know how far the meadow was, to be honest, or if she had sufficient supplies for an overnight stay. The realization made her flush.
“I have food packed,” Arthur said, as though reading her thoughts. “You can change clothes too, if you want. Take anything of mine.”
Eva looked down at her overalls. The denim was worn soft with years of use, the colorful threads on the embroidered flowers—fuzzed with touch and time—now stained with flecks of her father’s blood. She hadn’t thought to change earlier, too shocked after what had happened, but now the sight of the blood made her sick.
She should have been grateful for his offer of help. Instead, defensiveness rose inside her. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I do.”
A knot bloomed in her throat, making it hard to snap back at him. Eva didn’t want him to atone. Nothing he did could give back the years she’d had to live with the consequences of his actions. Arthur looked strangely fragile under the weight of the pack, all skin and bones and sweat. They hadn’t even started yet.
Eva fought to quell her mounting exasperation. This would be a disaster.
And it wouldn’t fix things.
Eva bent down, scooping up the kitten. “Fine,” she conceded.
Arthur’s earnest expression wobbled. “You’re taking the cat?”
As if on cue, the kitten chose that moment to let out a hungry mewl. Eva stroked the back of her head. “Of course we’re taking the cat.”
Chapter 16
Isobel
The storm had everyone on edge.
Dane pulled together a search party willing to work in the inclement weather. While his crew searched the surrounding area, Isobel kept watch over her father at the cottage. Dr. Rosen had urged her over the phone to let him continue to rest. It was vital, the doctor had said, to eliminate unneeded stressors so his body could heal.
So when Dad woke that night in a fit of panic, asking after Arthur, Isobel did something she never thought she would.
She lied to her father.
“We posted his bail.”
Dad’s immediate look of relief made Isobel’s stomach churn with guilt. “I need to see him,” he said, his voice faint.
“Um… you can’t, just yet.” Isobel scrambled for something believable. “Arthur was… Well, he was so upset about what happened.” True. Isobel swallowed her nerves down a dry throat. “He and Eva went for a drive.”
A bad lie, by her standards. No one would willingly choose to drive in this storm.
“They drove down to the diner,” she amended. “To work things out.”
When the worry knitting her father’s brow eased, it almost made the deception worth it.
“Good,” Dad said, sinking back against the pillows propped beneath him. His eyes were drooping again. “They’ll be okay, you know.”
But Isobel didn’t know, and she felt suddenly sick. What kind of person lied to their wounded father?
Shortly after midnight, Dane called off the search until the storm let up, for the safety of the search crew. Isobel dozed in a chair by her father’s bed through the night, too anxious to leave his side.
She needed a drink.
When she phoned the next morning, Dane tried to reassure her that he would find her sister soon.
Isobel wasn’t so certain.
Though Eva would be loath to admit it, Arthur Connoway had always been able to reach a part of Eva that Isobel couldn’t. Her sister’s first experience with love hadn’t grown solely from attraction but from a desperate need to be seen. Arthur had fed Eva’s curious mind, stirring her to compassion and a deeper understanding of the world and her place within it. He had taught her to be more careful with living things, his deadly touch making him keenly aware of how fragile a life truly is.
