My heart is pounding when I round the hallway and burst into her bedroom. She’s sitting up in bed, sobbing.
I sit and pull her into my lap. Kat’s arms wrap around my neck and her whole body quakes.
“I got you, baby. It’s okay.” I stroke her hair and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
I don’t know how long we sit in the dark when she finally whispers, “I was there, Brady. I was there that night.”
My hand stills on her back. That night. She told me she was babysitting Izzy.
She scoots off my lap and leans against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest, as she wipes tears from her damp cheeks. “When they were gone so long, I called a neighbor to watch Izzy so I could look for Cal and Melissa. I knew something was wrong. Even in the rain, it shouldn’t have taken so long. That horse always ran down to the creek. They knew where to look.” Tears stream down her face. “It shouldn’t have taken so long.”
I sit, barely breathing, and wait for her to continue.
She glances up, a look of utter devastation on her face. “I ran down to the creek bed. I knew it was faster than driving all the way around the property, especially in that weather.” Her chest fills with a deep breath. “That’s when it hit me. I didn’t want to drive because I was afraid of the flash floods we get down here and the low water crossing by the creek. My dad always warned me about that. He lost a friend that way. The kid was just washed away.”
All of the hair on my arms stands up as I wait for her to finish. I get an image of Kat running to the other side of the property in the middle of the night while being pelted with cold rain.
Her eyes close, and she starts to cry again. “By the time I got there, I could hear the sirens, but it was too late. The sheriff thought a sudden rush of water had pushed the truck past the small landing off to the side. When the truck hit this concrete ledge, it flipped and got dragged deeper. The water was so fast. We couldn’t reach them until the next morning. I stood there for hours and waited. I felt so helpless. I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.”
I reach for her, and she shakes her head. “I know what you said about the barn door, that accidents happen, but as long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself for that night.”
I’m about to say something—what, I’m not sure—when she levels me with a heartbroken stare. “I watched them get pulled from the water, Brady. I had to identify their bodies,” she whimpers.
It takes a moment to fully process what she’s saying. Then I can see it all. A rain-soaked Katherine standing along the banks as Cal and Mel get dredged from the river.
“Jesus Christ.” I grab her and hold her close as she cries into my shoulder.
No wonder she has nightmares. No wonder she screams in her sleep.
I can’t breathe. I don’t know that she can either, but we sit together in the darkness and grieve.
When Kat falls asleep, I lay her down in bed and crawl in behind her. I hold her until morning, desperate to keep her safe the only way I know how.
39
Katherine
I get up early and make breakfast. A part of me feels relieved to have gotten all of that off my chest, but I hate that I had to burden Brady with what happened. I’m sure he wanted to know, but that doesn’t make living with those images any easier.
When he wanders into the kitchen, I half wonder if he’ll be upset that I didn’t tell him everything until last night. But I’m certainly not expecting the warm smile and hug or the kiss to my forehead. He does it with such tenderness, I could cry all over again.
“I’m sorry I unloaded all of that on you last night,” I whisper against his chest.
“Why? I’m not.” He kisses my cheek. “You needed to talk about it. I can’t believe you hadn’t. No wonder you’ve been having nightmares.”
It feels so good to let him hold me. I close my eyes and breathe in his woodsy scent.
I’m going to miss you so much when you leave. Don’t go.
I blink back the heat in my eyes as I turn back to the stove, needing some distance. “I made you something to eat. Farm-fresh eggs.” Once I’ve regained my composure, I glance back at him.
He rubs his face and yawns. “Those chickens scare me. Their beady little eyes freak me out.”
I laugh, and it surprises me. That after everything I told him about last night, he can make me laugh.
“The chickens are harmless.”
He frowns and leans back against the counter. “Doubtful. I’m pretty sure they could peck your eyes out if they got hungry enough. Didn’t you ever see that Alfred Hitchcock movie, The Birds?”
“Those were mostly blackbirds. I don’t think there were any chickens in that film.” I snicker.