She’d never truly returned. And her loss was felt by Frank every single day.
It was me who had found him the day he passed. I heard the crash and rumble as he fell, taking a shelf down with him. A moment was all it took. One flicker and thump of his heart, and the man I’d known faded away in my arms well before the ambulance arrived. But I pumped his chest all the same with Kit at my side, praying to a God I didn’t believe in to save him.
It wasn’t the first time He’d let me down. Watching my mother wither away, neglected in a county hospital bed, I’d prayed. I bargained and begged. But in the end, she was taken from me too. There was no insurance for an immigrant, even if she’d come here seeking refuge from war. There was no compensation for my father dying in a valley in Croatia, and there was no place for me anywhere. There was no quarter for any of us.
So when Mama held my hand with tears in her sunken eyes and begged me to survive, I promised her I would. But it wouldn’t be in the foster system. I didn’t even know what would happen to me if I let them take me, but the fear of deportation to a country I’d never known was enough to set me out on my own. I was young and strong and knew there had to be work for me, if I looked for it.
So I headed west, certain there was a place at the end of the road where I’d find what I was looking for, even if I didn’t know what that was.
Farm after farm, harvesting corn, breeding livestock, learning everything I could to expand my résumé, to make myself useful, indispensable. But I never stayed for long, never set down roots. Mostly, people were kind. Plenty of times, they weren’t. But in the end, when I made it to the West Coast, I found the gold at the end of the rainbow.
I’d found Frank. And Frank had given me everything.
I did not want to step foot out of my house, nestled on the edge of the big house property. I did not want to walk into this day, a day I knew would be unending and exhausting in ways I couldn’t even fathom. I didn’t want to say goodbye to Frank, not with an audience, not ever.
But I had no choice. There was no way to avoid it, and the people of this town needed someone to accept their condolences.
My only comfort was that I wouldn’t be alone.
Olivia and I had stayed out of each other’s way the last couple of days, resulting in some kind of unspoken truce. I was still as unhappy about the whole situation as she was. But today, we needed each other. Today, nothing mattered but Frank. So we’d stand side by side and accept everyone’s grief, piling it on top of our own. We would sit shoulder to shoulder in a pew and do our best not to break in front of the whole town. We’d get through today and put the rest off until tomorrow.
I swore under my breath, undoing my tie again. It was hopeless. I was hopeless.
An idea struck—Kit. Kit knew everything about everything. She had to know how to tie a stupid tie. With the slip of silk in my fist, I headed out, snagging my coat on the way.
The morning was cool, the sun only up enough to shoot shafts of sunlight through the dewy leaves of the trees. Even the grass glittered, struck with that burst of light that made the whole world look like it was weeping.
The path wound around the other cottages, one for Kit and one for Mack and one for Miguel, our vet. I smelled Kit’s biscuits well before I reached the back door and hoped I’d find the faces I knew. Hoped we’d have a moment to ourselves before this day began.
But once again, luck was not on my side.
The kitchen was empty except for one person, a face I barely knew anymore, one I was accustomed to seeing screwed up with irritation. But in that moment when I walked in, Olivia’s face was soft, her eyes glittering and shoulders slumped. For the first time since I’d picked her up at the airport, she looked like the city girl I knew her to be. A tailored black dress with sleeves capping small shoulders. Her neck, long and pale, exposed by the twist of her hair, smooth and red. Her lips, lush and bowed and turned down.
She was unarmed, and the sight disarmed me too. Everything about her was delicate and vulnerable—from the curve of her chin to her long, threaded fingers—the spitfire doused, leaving her nothing but vapors. And when she met my gaze, we shared that sentiment, the thread of connection deep and tangible between us.
But she looked away and took the moment with her.
“Kit just ran back to put on her dress,” Olivia said, swiping at her cheeks, her back stiffening. When she looked up again, then at the tie hanging in my fist, she frowned. “Did you need help?”
I scoffed. “No.”
“Then why’s your tie in your hand and not around your neck?”
“You said Kit’s at her house?”
“Getting dressed,” she added, slipping off her stool. “Don’t be a baby, Jake,” she said without heat. “Let me help you.”
I let out a noisy, resigned breath as she clicked her way toward me in heels higher than I’d ever seen. They were black and shiny against the snow of her skin, her legs long and her stride sure. This was her element more than the stupid pink boots. And in this element, I was as lost as she was in mine.
She took the tie from my hand when she came to a stop in front of me. “You look nice,” she said, her eyes on her hands as she flipped my collar and slid that tie around my neck in a whisper.
“So do you,” I offered, meaning it.
For a moment, she said nothing, just watched her hands as I watched her. Her nose, small and pert. Her lashes, long and feathery. Her cheeks, dotted with freckles. She smelled like flowers—not the old lady kind. The kind that made you sigh in the summertime and wish you lived in a meadow.
I swallowed, disturbing her work with my Adam’s apple.
“Get any sleep?” she asked.
“Not a wink. You?”
“None. I watched the sun come up wishing it would go back down.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t think I want to do this at all.”
“Neither do I. Only thing that makes it a little easier is knowing you’ll be there with me.”
Her face turned up to mine, her brows creased. “Me? I thought all you wanted was for me to give up and go home.”
“Oh, I do.” A smile flickered on my lips but faded away. “But not today.”
Her eyes filled with tears, chin wobbling. She sniffled. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“I thought we’d be at odds like we have been.”
“I’m not a monster, Livi. I know I might act like one, but I’m not.”
The smallest smile touched her lips. “I don’t know. Bridge troll comes to mind.”
I huffed a laugh. “At least let me be something with style. Like a werewolf or something.”
With a chuckle, she smoothed my tie. “There. All set.”
“Thank you. Only person who ever knew how to do it was Frank.”
“Well,” she started, tamping down her tears for the sake of me, “I think he’d be quite proud of you.”
“Oh, I dunno. When it comes to you, I’m not so sure.”
“Don’t worry. There’s still time.”
When she smiled up at me, I was overwhelmed by the urge to draw her into my chest. To fold her up in my arms, to take away her tears. To shelter that delicate thing from what might harm her.
I almost did. Right then and there, for no reason at all, I almost did.