Chapter Thirty-Six
Kenzi set aside her Kindle. The sweet romance she’d downloaded last night was a great distraction in the early hours of the morning when memories of Nash filled her mind and she couldn’t sleep. But in the light of day, all she wanted to do was stare off over the lake and drink in the birdcalls, cricket chirps, and gentle lapping of the water on shore and feel blah.
She’d had several homes to pick from when she fled California, but the Wyoming cabin had called to her like a siren. She’d walked the shoreline, skipped rocks across Gooseberry Lake, and had a bonfire on the smooth stones. She’d hiked the hillside, bird-watched, read, slept, and roasted more than her share of marshmallows.
And her heart still called out for Nash.
She’d given herself stern talking-tos, allowed herself to cry, and just about everything in between in an effort to cleanse him from her system—all to no avail. Without effort, she could picture him in a polo shirt or a tee shirt or a button-up with the top button open and his sleeves rolled up. She knew every cord on his forearms, every muscle in his jaw, and the varying shades of gray and green swirled together in his eyes. He was with her even though she was hundreds of miles away.
The crunch of gravel under tires had her jerking out of her chair. The staff used the back entrance, which meant whoever was coming was family or friend. Had Nash found her at last? She’d hidden from him to become stronger, but each day weakened her ability to resist him. If that was him in the black Range Rover with frustratingly dark tinted windows, she’d throw her arms around his neck and kiss him until she couldn’t breathe. Then she’d smack him for what he’d done. And then she’d kiss him again. And then she didn’t know what she’d do, because she was still mixed up inside. Who hid something like prison from their wife?
The car stopped and the engine cut. The oxygen supply went low and Kenzi struggled to suck in a breath. The back door flew open, and two tiny designer shoes appeared, followed by two tan legs and pink shorts.
“Aunt Kenzi!” screamed Hattie. Her whole face lit up, and Kenzi sobbed with relief to see her niece. They ran to one another, their arms open wide. Kenzi scooped Hattie up and spun in circles, peppering her cheeks with kisses while she giggled and Kenzi laughed and cried at the same time.
It wasn’t Nash, but it was the next best way to lift her spirits. She hugged Hattie tight, her hand on the back of the girl’s head. “I am so, so, so glad to see you.”
Hattie leaned back and placed both hands on Kenzi’s cheeks. “Miss you.”
“I missed you too.”
Lunette got out from behind the wheel, moving at a slower pace but still moving toward them. She had an oversized bag over one arm and giant sunglasses. Kenzi prayed she hadn’t driven hung over. She nuzzled Hattie’s cheek.
Lunette paused a few feet shy of hugging distance. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Lunette pulled off her glasses with one finger, revealing a haggardness that didn’t fit with her natural beauty. There was a story behind those dark circles under her eyes.
Kenzi’s angel mama whispered that the driveway wasn’t the place for that story to unfold. “Let’s go inside. I have hot chocolate.”
“Yay!” Hattie bounced on Kenzi’s hip.
Kenzi laughed and set her down to run ahead. “She’s bigger.”
“We’ve both grown up a little.”
Kenzi regarded her little sister and remembered what Nash had said—that knowing someone loves you can make all the difference. She linked their elbows and meandered up the stairs, across the massive deck, and into the kitchen via the sliding glass doors.
“This place hasn’t changed since we were in high school.” Lunette ran her hand over the picture of Mama—who was holding up a fish and making a disgusted face—that sat on the side table. She helped Hattie belly up to the bar and then took a seat herself. “Daddy bought this place after you went to college. Did you ever come here with the family?”
Kenzi nodded. “Just that time Dad brought us here to tell us he was dying.” The worddyinghung in the air like a bat waiting to swoop down and bite their sensitive feelings. Both women managed to keep it in the rafters.
“So why’d you come here now?”
Kenzi lifted a shoulder. She put a saucepan on the stove and poured in milk, adding a dusting of cocoa powder and a heaping spoonful of coconut sugar. “I remembered how peaceful it was, how Dad was centered when he was here—even with his prognosis.”
“Yeah.” Lunette rubbed Hattie’s back. “He was so weird about dying.”
Kenzi chuckled. “You could say that.” The liquid began to steam, and she whisked until it became frothy and she could pour it into mugs.
Hattie got two marshmallows, which brought a smile to her face.
Kenzi blew the steam off the top of the liquid before taking a sip. “Why’d you come?”
Lunette stirred her cocoa. “Clyde is a despicable human being.”
“Yep.” Kenzi popped the P on the end of the word.
