Page 26 of Kobalt

“And you deserved to have me by your side.”

“It doesn’t mean that it would have stopped the miscarriage, Kobe.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have had to deal with that shit alone, baby. That’s all I’m saying.”

He pulled me into his arms and held me for several long seconds. I felt the pressure of his chin resting on my head as a gentle September breeze wafted around us, bringing with it the sweet fragrance of the apples, the warm sun, and the tang of the manure and dried grass from the hay.

I pulled my head from underneath his chin and stared up into his eyes. Kobalt’s arms were locked around my waist, and my arms were locked around his neck.

“Do you want kids?”

“Hell yeah. I always figured that I would have some kids one day. A few of them—three or four. I always wanted them to have the privilege of growing up between the farm and the city, enjoying both worlds.”

“That would be nice.”

“How many do you want?”

“As many as God sees fit to bless me with, but not more than three. So, I don’t know about that four stuff.”

He chuckled. “I feel you. You wanna get these apples back to the house?”

He had helped me select the perfect apples for baking an apple pie, and he promised me that he would bake one for me this afternoon. I looked forward to it because I knew that he was good at cooking and baking. When we grew up, his mama was always baking, and whenever his grandmother came to town, she would bake too.

“Why didn’t your grandmother leave the farm to your mother?” I asked.

“Like Niagara, she didn’t want to be stuck here. GiGi knew that I loved the farm, and she hoped that Niagara would learn to love it too. Mama grew up here, but she always yearned for the city, and as soon as Edward Harden came calling, he lured her away. He was in town visiting his uncle for the summer when they met, but he was in school for business management.”

I couldn’t recall a time that Kobalt ever called his father “daddy.” He was always Edward Harden.

After we cooled the horses down and watered them, we headed back into the house. No sooner than we washed our hands and changed our clothes, one of the workers showed up and advised Kobalt that he needed to come to the old stables.

I laid the leaves out on the dining room table, arranging them in various patterns to determine which I liked best and what would complement my client’s design. A feeling of anxiety swelled within me, and the more I worked, the more it grew.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen, so I grabbed my phone and dialed the number on the card Officer Owens had given to me.

“Hello. This is Officer Owens. How can I help you?”

“Hello, Officer Owens. This is Kaimera Slope. You were investigating the break-in at my home at 642 Walden Avenue. I was calling to see if you all have discovered anything.”

“I remember you. Unfortunately, ma’am, we haven’t discovered anything new, but we’re still looking into it. Whomever it was, hasn’t been back by your house.”

“Were you able to get security cam footage from the neighbors?”

“Uh, no, but we’ve interviewed a few who saw the car, but they say it hasn’t been back since that day.”

We spoke a little longer before ending the call, which was a failure. I was ready to go home, and I was tired of watching over my shoulder. My next phone call was to Niagara.

“Hey, poo.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Would you please do me a favor and run by my place to check the mail when you get a chance?”

“Sure. I’ll swing by there on my way home this evening.”

“Be safe going by there or wait until the morning if you can.”

“Have they found out anything yet?”

“No.” Disappointment filled my voice.