Magee had done a lot for me after I’d moved to Lark Cove. In part, I think he’d done it because of Hazel. But I’d learned over the years that he was one of the most honest men I’d ever met, so if he questioned my innocence, he would have told me so today.
“Okay. That’s that.” Hazel stood and clapped her hands. “We’d better get some dinner started. It’s going to be a long night.”
“I’ll help.” Thea stood too, holding out a hand for Logan. “Come on, gorgeous.”
The three of them disappeared behind the bar and into the kitchen, leaving me and Willa alone.
“I’m sorry.” I took her hand in mine. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you the truth.”
“Yes, you should have.” She gave me a sad smile. “But I understand why you didn’t.”
“Are you mad?”
“At your mom for putting you in this position? Yes. At you? No.”
I squeezed her hand tighter. “Do you believe me?”
“I believe you.” She slipped her hand free of mine to cup my cheek. Then she leaned up, kissed me gently and wrapped her arms around my neck. “It’ll be okay.”
I pulled her into my lap and held on tight. I really fucking hoped she was right, because as tough as I tried to be, going to prison and leaving her would break me apart.
“Willa,” Jackson said quietly.
I turned around from my spot in front of the stove, spatula still in hand. I was in the middle of making pancakes for breakfast. I smiled at him, but it dropped as I took in his face. “What?”
He held up his phone. “Magee called. He wants me to come down to the station. First thing.”
“Did he say anything?”
Jackson shook his head and crossed the room. He came right into my space and wrapped his arms around me.
I didn’t hesitate to hug him back, even with the spatula still in my grip. I pressed my cheek against his heart and slipped my free hand around his waist. “It’ll be okay.”
He nodded, holding me so tight I couldn’t move. “It’ll be okay.”
Over the last week, the two of us had said those words at least twenty times a day.
It had been the longest seven days of my life. Every day, we waited anxiously for a phone call from Sheriff Magee. Most days, they didn’t come. Usually by midafternoon, Jackson would be so tense that he’d drag me down to the sheriff’s station to check in with Magee personally—which meant I’d been to the sheriff’s station seven days in a row.
The entire week, Jackson and I had been glued at the hip. We hadn’t left the other’s sight, not once. When he went to work, I went too. When I had to run errands or go to the camp, he came along. And both of us had spent as much time with Ryder as possible.
I’d expected Jackson to push me away some because of the stress. I was braced and ready for him to be distant like he had before Thanksgiving. But instead, he’d just pulled me in even closer. He confided in me. He leaned on me. When he was worried, we talked it out.
And though the last seven days had been pure agony, there was beauty in them too.
We’d finally gotten to an us. A real and lasting and true us.
“When do we need to be at the station?”
“Magee said as soon as possible.”
I nodded, taking one last inhale of his shirt before letting him go. “Let me get breakfast done and I’ll hop in the shower.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll wake up Ryder.”
“I’m up.”
I looked past Jackson as Ryder shuffled into the kitchen. He dropped his backpack by the kitchen table, then sat down. He’d already showered and gotten dressed for school, but he looked exhausted.
Ever since we’d told him about Melissa’s death, Ryder hadn’t been sleeping or eating much. One night I’d woken up with too much on my mind and had come to the kitchen for some tea. Ryder had been on the couch, watching TV on mute. He picked at his breakfast, and not even my wheat chili could entice him for seconds.
I’d never forget Ryder’s pained cry when Jackson had told him about their mom’s death. After we’d met with the attorney, Jackson and I had come back here to talk with Ryder. We’d sat him down on the couch, one of us on each side, and Jackson had delivered the news.
Ryder had broken down and cried for almost an hour into Jackson’s chest until he’d finally passed out and Jackson had carried him to bed.
Even though Melissa had disappointed him and left him behind, she was his mom. I think Ryder had always held on to a little slice of hope that eventually she’d come back for him.
“Hey, kid.” Jackson walked over to the table and sat down next to Ryder. “You okay?”
Ryder shrugged. “Just tired.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
I flipped my pancakes, then went to the cupboard for a coffee cup. I filled it for Jackson, then took it and my own over to the table.
“Thanks, babe.” Jackson squeezed my thigh after I sat down. “Sheriff Magee called me this morning.”
Ryder’s eyes widened. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t tell me anything. He just asked that I come down to the station this morning.”
“I’m coming too,” Ryder declared.
Jackson shook his head. “Not this time.”
“But—”
Jackson cut him off. “It could take a while and I don’t want you missing any school. You’ve got that social studies test today.”
“Fuck school and fuck the test.”
I flinched like I always did when Ryder cursed. He was so frustrated and angry and scared. He’d lost his mother and he was terrified he was going to lose his brother too.
“Listen.” Jackson reached over and put a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “As soon as we know what’s happening, I’ll come to the school. But you might as well try and ace your test like I know you can.”
Ryder’s frame slumped. “You didn’t kill her.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“This isn’t fair.” Ryder’s voice cracked. So did my heart.
“You’re right,” I told him. “This isn’t fair, but we’ll get through it. You just stay strong.”
Ryder looked up from his lap, his dark eyes glassy. “That’s what your mom says.”
“Yeah, but it sounds better when I say it,” I teased.
The corner of his mouth twitched. It wasn’t a smile—I hadn’t seen one of those in a week—but it was a start.
Jackson winked at me and took a sip of his coffee.
“Pancake time.” I stood from the table and went back to the stove.
“Willa?” Ryder called.
I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Can I have the woogidy one?”
“Sure.” I nodded and got his plate ready with three pretty pancakes and a woogidy one.
Just the way he liked it.
Jackson and I were at the sheriff’s station an hour later.
After breakfast, we’d dropped Ryder off at school, then made a quick call to our attorney.
The lawyer Logan had found was incredible. The night she’d come to Lark Cove, she’d spent two hours with us. I’d left the bar with a deeper understanding of the criminal justice system than I’d ever cared to know. But she’d given Jackson some great pointers on what and what not to do or say.
We talked to her daily, keeping her fully briefed on whatever we learned at our sheriff’s station visits, even if it wasn’t much.
This morning, she’d given Jackson some advice on what to do if he was officially charged with murder. Call me. Say nothing. But otherwise, she told him to be smart and saw no reason not to meet with Sheriff Magee informally just to hear him out.
I had a feeling she was waiting by the phone, ready to hop in her car and drive down from Kalispell at a moment’s notice.
So here we were, walking back into the sheriff’s station.
Let this be the last time. I looked to the light-blue sky and made my wish on all the sleeping stars.
As we came inside, the deputy at the front desk didn’t say anything other than good morning before immediately buzzing us into the back.
Jackson and I went right through the door, finding Sheriff Magee waiting for us. He was wearing his signature Stetson today, making him look more like the man I’d known since childhood.
“Thanks for coming down.” He shook Jackson’s hand. “Willa, would you like to wait in the lobby?”