It wasn’t perfect, but it was more than I’d ever had. Love and care poured out of all of them—even when they fought.
Hadley climbed up the ladder on the side of the dumpster. “Here, I can take the end of that board.”
“Hads, get down. Let me do that,” Calder said as he crossed to the dumpster.
“I’m fine, Officer Safety. Just help Dad hand me that piece. I’ll tip it in.”
“You could fall.”
“So could you.”
Calder swiped his hat off his head. “I have training for this kind of thing.”
“I had ten years of gymnastics. I think my balance is better.”
A shadow moved across the ground, and I looked up to see Hayes. “Are they always like this?”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “They fight like cats and dogs. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they would do anything for each other, but it’s a battle of wills every time they’re in the same room.”
“Hadley,” Calder growled as she did some sort of pirouette thing on the lip of the dumpster.
“Don’t mess around up there. You could hurt yourself,” Julia called.
Hadley’s expression tightened. “I guess I’ll just get down, then.” Instead of heading back for the ladder, she moved to the far end of the dumpster.
“What the hell—?”
Calder’s words cut off as Hadley hurled herself into the air, tucking neatly into a backflip. The air froze in my lungs as she rotated. She landed with a thud. But it wasn’t exactly clean, and she went from feet to butt pretty quickly, laughing.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Calder hurried over to her, but she waved him off.
“I’m fine. But I gotta work on that landing.”
Birdie rushed over. “I wanna try.”
Calder sent a look in Hadley’s direction that could’ve melted ice in Antarctica. But she wasn’t cowed. She simply got to her feet and took Birdie’s hand. “Why don’t we start with cartwheels?”
Calder’s glare didn’t leave Hadley’s back as he watched her walk away with his daughter in tow. Julia squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll have a word. She really shouldn’t be doing that kind of thing in front of the girls. Or at all.”
“Mom,” Hayes warned, “leave it.”
I watched as Hadley led Birdie over to a patch of grass that looked a little worse for wear. She demonstrated a cartwheel and then walked Birdie through it, spotting her as she went.
The sound of the girl’s giggle, carefree and light on the air, took me back.
“I can balance longer,” Addie said, her hair flipping upside down as she balanced on her hands.
“Nuh-uh. I can.” I kicked up into a handstand but wobbled until I fell over.
Addie collapsed next to me in a fit of giggles. “Told you.”
“I’m going again.” I kicked up harder this time, but my force was too great, and I went cascading into the fence. I cried out in pain as I crashed.
Addie rushed over. “What is it? What’d you hurt?”
I gripped my forearm. Pain sliced through it in hot waves as tears filled my eyes. “My arm.”
Mom appeared on the porch. “What’s going on, girls?”
“Evie hurt her arm,” Addie called, louder than she would’ve normally.
Mom started down the steps, hurrying across the drive. “Oh, baby girl. Show me where.”
I held up my arm, but as I lifted it, I cried out in pain.
“That’s okay. Try not to move it too much. I’m going to help you up, all right?”
I nodded, tears streaming down my face.
On the count of three, Mom helped me to my feet. The tears came faster and harder as we walked to the house. The steps groaned as we walked up them, and my mom hurried to hold the door.
“Howard,” she called as she moved inside.
“Kitchen,” my dad called back.
He turned as we made our way towards the space. “Now what’s with all the tears?” He crouched to make it to my level.
“I-I hurt my arm.”
“Let me see.”
I held out my arm for his inspection. His finger moved lightly over a scrape, but when his hand wrapped around the limb to feel for injury, I howled in pain.
Mom moved in, sweeping a hand over my head. “I think I need to take her to the emergency room.”
Dad stood instantly, his eyes flashing. “We don’t need any doctors. That’s why you have your medical training.”
“Midwife training and basic first-aid. I don’t have an x-ray machine or know how to set a broken bone.”
“No doctors. We’ve been over this, Carly. Treat her here. You have your tinctures. Wrap it and put it in a sling.”
“Howard,” she said softly. “Let me take—”
“I said, no! Do you want her to be poisoned by their drugs? Maybe they’ll decide to take her away from us altogether. Is that what you want?!” Each word built on the last until he was screaming.
Mom pulled me against her as Addie backed away. “Of course, not. I’ll treat her here.”
He eyed her as if my mother had suddenly become the enemy. “Good.”
“Come on, Evie. Let’s get you patched up.”
“Ev.”
My mother’s voice melded with Hayes’. I blinked a few times as I came back to myself. “Sorry, what?”
He moved closer. “Are you okay?”
I nodded quickly. “Fine. I just need some water.”
I hurried away from Hayes’ prying eyes, ones that asked too many questions. I moved towards the little cabin, the spot that had always made for a good hiding place. One that didn’t hold nearly as many memories as the main house.
Jogging up the steps, I pulled open the screen door. It slammed with a bang behind me. I moved to the small kitchen and pulled out a glass. As I went for the pitcher of water in the fridge, my wrist twinged. It, along with so many other injuries, had never healed exactly right.
I had to use my other hand to balance the carafe. It wasn’t even that heavy, but the weight was enough that my arm trembled. Tears blurred my vision as I poured, then set the pitcher down with a thud. The tears came faster. I rubbed at my wrist and forearm as if I could erase it all—every single memory carved into my bones. But I couldn’t. And maybe coming back here wouldn’t heal them, after all. Perhaps it would only reopen old wounds.
18
Hayes
I stood frozen to the spot; my feet glued to the threshold. My back to the world outside, my family; my front facing the woman who pulled at me more and more. I couldn’t have moved if a herd of wild mustangs was headed in my direction.
She was weeping. I’d never heard a more beautiful sob—or a quieter one. Yet it tore at my insides just the same. Her body shook as she cradled her arm to her chest.
There was so much grief there. Bone-deep sorrow. And pain. It was the pain that unglued my feet. I moved before I could even think about the wisdom of it, letting the door slap closed behind me.
Everly jolted at the sound. She made a valiant effort to pull it together, straightening and dropping her hold on her wrist. She wiped at her face. But whatever she battled in the tiny kitchen was too much to hold back.