Wedding at Willow Lake
Page 5
“Should I call the police?”
“Sure. But tell them to send someone besides one of the Larder clan if they want to see their cousin intact—and tell them to hurry, because my temper’s riled, and I have my own way of taking care of things here.”
7
“Rough day, huh?” Catherine slipped into a chair beside Brody on the deck of the inn. Waning sunlight turned the water to dancing diamonds, and a slight breeze ruffled leaves along the forest’s edge.
“You could say that.” Brody twisted in his chair to face her, and she warmed at the look of concern that shadowed his eyes. “But I’ve had worse.”
“Where are Ali and Ryder?”
“Putting Rory to bed for the night. They’ll be back down in a few minutes. That kid is a load of dynamite, for sure. He rivals Ryder for speed. Wore himself out chasing squirrels in the yard.”
“They’ve got their hands full, don’t they?”
“You could say that. But I don’t think they mind one bit. I’ve never seen Ryder so…domesticated.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all, so long as he’s happy. And it’s more than obvious that he’s over the moon. Ali, too.” He nodded, offering her a sip of his iced tea. “They fit together perfectly, like a rod and a reel.”
“That’s so…less than romantic.” Catherine laughed and took a drink from his glass. A hint of orange told her Ali had brewed this batch. “But I suppose it’s accurate. I never would have imagined, but Ryder is a great husband and a terrific dad, as well.”
“So I’ve noticed. Wish it were the same for poor Jaren and his mom.” Brody sobered quickly at the thought of them. The light caught his eyes and Catherine saw a flicker of temper that had come to a flashpoint that afternoon. She’d always known he carried a protective streak, and today only served to cement the fact. He’d stood up for Jaren as if the child was his very own. Catherine warmed at the thought as he continued. “Hunter came by a while ago to take Maci to dinner. She spent most of the afternoon sorting through the legal channels with Jaren’s mom and getting them connected with the right people.”
“That’s good. With Maci’s vast experience, she’s an expert in this area, for sure.”
“She’s been a huge help in all of this, and she said she’ll call you later to bring you up to speed with whatever I failed to mention.”
“I can’t imagine that would be much. You’ve covered your bases pretty well.”
“True, but when it comes to hurting kids, Maci knows the law better than any of us.”
“You’re not so bad yourself. Your technique is just a little bit…renegade.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Yes, and nicely.” She drew another sip of tea and then returned the glass to him. “Any other news?”
“Josie stopped by, too, for a bit. She brought some flyers about a children’s story hour she’s getting ready to launch at Posts and Pages, thought you might want to share them at the clinic.”
“That’s a great idea. I will.” Catherine sighed and rested her head against the chair back. “My head is spinning.”
“How are you holding up?” He grazed her cheek with the pad of his thumb and watched her dimple deepen. “Did you get all the little cherubs immunized, bandaged, and sewn up?”
“I did.” She nodded slightly as she caught her lower lip between her teeth and then let it go with a sigh. His touch sent her pulse into arrhythmia, making it hard to breathe. “Now, if I could only fix broken hearts.”
“Mine seems to be mending quite nicely.”
“Is that so?” She drew a ragged breath, praying he couldn’t hear her heart thudding.
“Yes, Doc.” He set his tea glass on the wood floor and took her hand. “A kiss is good medicine, though, if you’d like to help things along.”
“I’ll write you a prescription.”
“Is it possible to hook me up with a sample?” He eased in, his breath warm on her cheek and his voice shadowed with longing. “I don’t think I can wait for the prescription.”
“Let’s see.” Pulse raging, she draped a warm palm to the nape of his neck and kissed his scruffy cheek. “There. Does that help?”
“Hmm…yes.” He dipped his head, claiming her temple in return. His touch, gentle yet filled with an urgent promise of more, stole her breath. His skin smelled like sunshine and pine while a slight smatter of stubble tickled her cheek. “And that…even more.”
He left her mindless and longing for his lips. Sighing, she eased back to place distance—and a measure of common sense—between them. The day had set off a roller coaster of emotions. No point in allowing it all to skew her good sense. Best to take things slow. She smoothed wrinkles from her khakis and ran a comb of fingers through her mussed hair before placing her hands firmly in her lap. “So, Jaren and his mom are on their way to Knoxville?”
“Yes, to stay with her sister and brother-in-law. And Maci’s working with social services and the sheriff’s office to follow up on charges. Sam Bivens’s days are numbered.”
“Good. He’s been trouble since the first day he stepped foot inside the town limits. Maybe this will be a wake-up call to that entire family.”
“We can only pray.” Brody reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers. When he spoke again, his voice was low and thick with emotion. “I’ve been thinking…it was my first fishing expedition with kids, Cate, and one of them got hurt. Maybe I’m not cut out for the whole adventure experience after all.”
“It’s not like you to give up so easily.” On full alert to his distress, she straightened in the chair and faced him head-on. “It was a minor accident, Brody. Besides, don’t you think God had a plan in all of this?”
“How do you mean?”
“A small hook and a few stitches led to exposing a much larger hurt for Jaren. He’s safe now, and his mom, too. Look at the bigger picture.”
“I guess you’re right. It has all worked out for the best.”
“Of course. It always does.” Throwing caution to the wind, Catherine pressed his palm to her lips and kissed his fingertips. “Besides, you got your first accident out of the way. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“He had awful bruises beneath his shirt.”
“I know.”
“I can’t stand to think about what he and his mom must have been through.”
“It’s done now.”
“It just burns me up.” Brody pulled back from her, clenching his fists as he stood to pace a length of the deck. “A grown man hurting a kid like that…and a woman.”
“I know. Your compassion—your genuine heart for others—is one of the reasons I fell in love with you, Brody.”
“I’d like to take Bivens out back, show him a thing or—” Brody paused, spun to face her. “What did you just say?”
“Your heart is as big and sturdy as an oak tree.”
“The other part.”
“Oh, that.” She smiled as he smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I love you, Brody Simmons. I just can’t help myself.”
****
Catherine’s words were a cattle prod to Brody’s heart. Suddenly it jolted and began to beat with a sense of urgency he hadn’t felt in nearly a decade. He felt alive. The evening air, resplendent with pine and the musky scent of damp earth, whispered over him as he drew a single, deep breath. Muted sunlight cast long fingers of shadow over the lake as it slipped below the treetops to nestle within the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. The first cries of cicadas blended with the throaty song of bullfrogs somewhere downstream.
The inn had always been a place of refuge…somewhere to go when the going got tough. He’d spent countless seasons roaming the forest along the water’s edge with Ryder, Hunter, and Mason. Each turn of the calendar brought new possibilities and boundless opportunities for adventure. Later on, they traded exploring the forest to learning the mysteries of girls. The tightknit group remained, for years, virtually insepa
rable.
Brody’s passion for the outdoors and life in general was born and nurtured in and around the waters of Willow Lake. He’d loved the area and couldn’t imagine life anywhere else.
Until Josh’s accident. That single, horrific event had changed everything.
“Do you remember?” Brody turned to find Catherine gazing over the water at the jagged bluff that soared, her dark eyes narrowed with the burden of memories. It was the tallest outcropping of rock, and the most fun to jump from. “That day…Josh?”
“Yes.” The word came softly. “But now it just seems like a dream—all of it.”
“I know. But it happened.” Brody shook his head. “Careless and foolish, that’s what we were.”
“We were young.”
“For years I told myself that, tried to talk the whole thing off. But that doesn’t work, because, at the end of the day, Josh is still gone and a whole lot of people are still hurting because of it.”
“Everyone left—Ryder, Mason, Hunter, and you.”
“You asked me what I did in the Keys…what I learned.” Brody shifted in his seat and tilted his head a bit to catch the breeze on his face. “Well, I learned that hiding didn’t help. I needed to face things head-on and to trust God’s plan in all of it. It was a hard, painful process, but I learned how to be a child of God—and a man of character, as well.”
“I’m proud of you, Brody…of who you’ve become. Today, what you did for Jaren, it was a wonderful thing.”
“It was the right thing.”
“I think we’ve all figured out a little more about what’s right and to trust God in all of it. That’s why we’re back now. Everyone’s back—to stay.”
“I know that. And, hard as it’s been, good has come from this tragedy, as it does from most every hardship, if we allow it to be so. We can’t ever forget that.”
“No, we can’t.” As Catherine spoke softly, Brody leaned in to claim a kiss. “It honors Josh’s memory to live our lives in a way that’s pleasing and honorable to God. And it’s only right and fitting to keep that in mind through everything, every step, we take.”
“Every step.” Brody murmured. “Do you hear the music?”
“I do. It’s the song of nature…the best music of all.”
“Remember when we used to come out here on rainy days and dance along the shore, listening to the raindrops hit the water and the breeze whisper through the pines?”
“Yes. Everyone else hated the rain, but I loved those days…as long as I was with you.”
“I loved them, too.” A steady lap of water along the rocky shore provided the perfect, percussive beat to the whispering breeze and symphony of cicadas. “Dance with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Catherine stood to face him and he drew her in, pressing his cheek to hers as they eased into a slow two-step along the porch. Her breath tickled warm against his ear. “This feels so good…so right.”
“So perfect.” He spun her gently, smiling as the last fingers of sunlight turned her eyes to chocolate diamonds. “Just perfect.”
8
Brody rounded the back of the clinic, dodging flashes of lightning as he stepped over puddles. The lot was empty; he’d dropped off Catherine that morning on his way into town for a business meeting and had promised to return for her after she closed up the clinic. He was about to give the outer door a push, but noticed it was slightly ajar. Odd, given the late hour and the stormy weather. Water gathered around the threshold, spilling over onto the tile. Had one of the nurses forgotten to give it a good shove closed? Heedless of the Do Not Enter sign, Brody entered the building, making a mental note to remind Catherine to be sure to lock up when she was alone. He didn’t like the idea of her here by herself without some type of security system engaged. Sure, it was Willow Lake, but times were changing and it just made good sense to keep protection at the forefront.
The hallways were quiet and shadowy with the glow of a single overhead light. Apparently, Catherine had already begun to shut things down. She’d called him only half-an-hour ago to let him know she was finished for the day. Since she liked to see to the straightening up herself, he figured she’d sent the last patient packing at least an hour ago.
“Cate?” He wound his way toward her office. “Close up those files. It’s dinnertime, and I’m famished. Work can wait until tomorrow.”
No answer. Brody’s gut tugged as he glanced into the still room and found nothing but her cluttered desk shadowed in darkness.
“Cate?” His call, more urgent, accompanied mental warning bells as he continued past the exam rooms, the phlebotomy lab, and on to reception. Maybe she was gathering toys while she waited for him, straightening magazines as he knew she liked to do before she left for the day. “Cate, answer me.”
He heard a slight moan and nearly stumbled over her as he crossed toward the aquarium. Sprawled awkwardly across the floor near the wooden play table, blood gathered in a pool around her head.
“Cate!” He switched on the overhead lights and dropped to his knees beside her, turning her gently to find a gash along her temple and a flurry of angry bruises along her jaw. “Talk to me.”
“He was here.” Her eyes fluttered open as Brody tore the hem of his T-shirt and wrapped it around his hand. He pressed one palm to her wound to staunch the flow of blood as he dug his phone from his back pocket with the other and dialed Hunter at EMS. Catherine’s voice, weak and raspy, terrified him. “He hit me, Brody.”
“Who?” Cold swept through Brody because he knew before she answered. “Who did this?”
“Sam Bivens.”
****
Catherine woke with a start, clutching at her throat as she gasped for air. She was drowning, and she couldn’t breathe.
“Brody?” She tried to speak, but nothing beyond a croak surfaced. She tried again. “Brody, help me.”
“It’s OK.” Brody’s face came into focus as he leaned over her, his voice a gentle murmur as he stroked hair back from her clammy forehead with cool fingers. “You were having a nightmare. It’s over now. You’re safe.”
“Where am I?” Her throat was dry as parchment and the words came painfully. Her head throbbed as if she’d been kicked by a steel-toed boot, and her vision was slightly off. The room swam in a single, annoying blur. But when her vision finally cooperated, there was no mistaking the concern in Brody’s eyes as he squeezed her hand.
“You’re at Willow Lake Hospital.” His voice was oddly gentle, which set off alarms in Catherine’s subconscious. “You spent the night here.”
“The night?” She glanced at her wrist, but her watch was gone. In its place was an IV line. “What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“AM?”
“Yes. On Thursday.”
“But it’s only Wednesday.”
“It was Wednesday yesterday, Cate. Now it’s Thursday.”
“I don’t understand.” She closed her eyes and tried to swallow but her throat was too dry to function. None of this was making sense, but she knew something bad had happened. She just couldn’t remember what it was. She tried to sit up and the room tipped on its side. “I want to go home.”
“Whoa…easy there.” Brody gave her shoulder a gentle push, settling her back in the bed. “You’re not going anywhere for a while. You need to rest.”
“I’m thirsty.” She closed her eyes against sunlight that filtered into the room through blinds on the window. The cacophonous beep of an IV machine told her she had more than a little bump on the head. She reached up, felt the bandage across her hairline and wondered if there were stitches beneath it. “And, can you fix the blinds. The light hurts my head.”
“Sure.” Brody crossed to the window and, with a slight adjustment, the room grew still and shadowy. Then he poured her a glass of water. A few sips and her belly roiled. She forced back bile as tears blurred her vision.
“What’s under this bandage, Brody?” She tried to peel it back.
Brody took her hand, pulling it gently away from her head. “You know, you make a better doctor than a patient.”
“You wake up in a hospital, and don’t know what put you there, and you’d be an awful patient, too.” Catherine pressed a hand to her throbbing cheek, felt the slight slope of swelling and winced. “Do I have stitches?”
“Just a few.” Brody’s gaze was guarded, his voice a bit too gentle. She knew he was avoiding the full truth. “They’re above your hairline, so don’t worry about a scar.”
“But my hair…” She felt the small, bald area and that alone was enough to bring on tears. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No.” A muddled vision swam like a nightmare through her throbbing head. “Wait…the clinic.”
“That’s right.” He tucked the blanket in around her shoulders. “Go on.”
“Lisa had just left, and I phoned you to let you know the last patient was gone.” The vision, like the ingredients of a recipe mixed together, began to gel. “I went into the reception area to straighten up and check on the fish. I heard the back door open and someone coming down the hall. I figured it was you, so I went to the hallway. But it wasn’t you, Brody. It was…oh my goodness. It was…” Unable to continue, she pressed a hand to her chapped lips as a sob escaped.
“I know who it was.” Brody’s voice morphed into a low growl. He rose to pace the floor like a caged panther. “You don’t have to talk about it now. The police are on their way to take a statement. They’ll want to hear everything.”
“It was terrible, Brody. He cornered me and threatened me, and he shoved me against the wall. I fell and hit my head on the corner of the play table. The room went dark, and I couldn’t see anything after that, but I felt the blood. He was yelling, and…I thought he was going to kill me.”
“You’re safe now, Cate.” Brody pulled her close and held her, and his gentle touch conflicted with the menacing tone of his voice. “No one’s going to hurt you. I’ve got you now, and I won’t let anyone, ever again, do you harm.”