by Norah Wilson
“Christ, that had to be scary for a kid.”
“It was terrifying. Her parents were out. Only Lacey’s grandfather was home, and he had the ball game blaring on the TV downstairs. He didn’t hear Lacey fall, and he didn’t hear me yelling for help.”
“What did you do?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I’d seen a poster at school showing what to do if someone had an epileptic seizure. I tried to remember.”
“I bet you remembered it perfectly.” He cupped her shoulders, drawing her back against him and out of reach of the rain. But even as she accepted the comfort of his warmth, she knew where his gaze had gone. Even without glancing up, she knew that he too stared out toward White Crow.
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t really do very much, but that’s sort of what the poster said. She’d fallen onto her side, so I made sure she stayed that way. And I put a sweater under her head to cushion it, but I didn’t try to hold her down or put anything in her mouth. The whole thing lasted maybe twenty seconds, but it felt like days. Finally it stopped.”
“Pretty impressive for a thirteen-year-old.” His words tickled her ear.
“I’d never been so scared in all my life.”
“And let me guess—Lacey wouldn’t let you tell her parents.”
“That’s the first thing she said when she came around. She was so groggy, I don’t know how she even knew her own name, but she opened her eyes, realized something had happened, and said, We can’t tell my mom and dad.”
“Because there was no way her folks would let her go to Halifax the next day if they’d known.”
“She made me promise not to tell them.” Ocean couldn’t stop the words now if she tried. “She pleaded with me. When her folks got home a couple hours later, she was fine. Tired, but they didn’t notice anything. So we went to bed early and I barely slept, making sure Lacey was breathing all night. Then the next week—the whole time we were at camp—I watched her like a hawk. But she was fine.”
“And after Halifax? No one told her parents?”
“I was going to.” Ocean shook her head. “But Lacey knew they’d be pissed that we’d kept it from them and begged me not to tell. I agreed, but I told her if she ever had another episode, she wouldn’t have a choice in the matter. If she didn’t tell them, I would. She swore she’d tell if it happened again, but it never did. Eventually we just...forgot about it, I guess.” She turned to him, but kept her gaze on his chest, not ready to meet his eyes yet. “But she must have had another one that day on the ledge. If she was seizing, that would explain how she managed to fall off such a broad ledge, and why she didn’t scream.”
At last, she lifted her gaze to meet his brown eyes. Eyes that might never look at her the same again. “Oh God, Titus, don’t you see? If anyone’s at fault for what happened to Lacey, it’s me.”
“No.” His voice was harsh. “Ocean, you can’t blame yourself.”
“If I’d told her parents, maybe they would have had tests done. Found something. I mean, I totally believed Lacey when she said she never had another seizure. You know how much time we spent together. I never saw her have another one. And she promised she’d tell me if she did. Surely she couldn’t have hidden something like that from me.”
“Couldn’t she?”
She looked up at him.
“Maybe she had more seizures, but was afraid it would mean she couldn’t have a driver’s license if she told anyone,” he said. “Or maybe she knew she wouldn’t be cleared to go on that archaeology dig.”
She felt the blood drain from her head at his words. Would Lacey have done that?
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, if she had to take an allergy pill or a swig of cough medicine, she’d make me drive in case she got drowsy.”
“Or maybe she just said she’d taken an allergy pill as an excuse for you to take the wheel.”
She massaged her temple. “Why would she do that?”
“People often have warning signs of an impending seizure,” he said. “They could feel fuzzy or confused. Or they might feel some jerky muscle movements. Some people experience a certain smell or taste.”
“You think she would have hid it from me? Her best friend? We told each other everything.”
“I think if she was suffering seizures but wanted to conceal her status, she couldn’t tell you. Because she knew you’d do the responsible thing. The right thing. The thing you swore you’d do if she ever had another one.”
“Oh, poor Lacey.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t decide which idea I hate worse—that she knew she was epileptic and chose to conceal it despite the risk to herself and others, or that she couldn’t confide in me.”
“Lacey was a great girl,” Titus said. “If she had a condition she was concealing, she must have believed she could predict the seizures. Like asking you to drive if she felt odd, for example.”
“God, Titus, if I’d told her parents way back then, they’d have taken her to a specialist and gotten to the bottom of it. Maybe she’d have been medicated. Maybe she’d never have set out to climb White Crow.” She swallowed again, but her voice still came out strained and thin. “What if…what if I could have stopped all of this, if I’d just—”
“Ocean, honey, you couldn’t have known.”
At that honey, her face crumpled and the tears came in earnest.
He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t do this to yourself.” A warm hand stroked her back. “You couldn’t have known she would have a seizure that day.”
She wanted to believe that. But she’d known about that one seizure.
Titus hadn’t, though.
At that thought, her mind went still. The tears stopped.
She leaned back in his arms so she could look up at his face. “Do you really believe that? Like, really really?”
“Absolutely. There’s no way you could have anticipated something like that, based on what you knew.” He held her gaze, driving his certainty home. “As far as you knew, she’d only had one episode way back when she was a child. And who knows? Maybe that really was the case. We’ll never know. But we do know that she was a very athletic, strong woman. More than a match for White Crow. Well, if she hadn’t hurt her knee.”
“You’re not just trying to make me feel better? You really believe I couldn’t have known?”
“I really do.”
“Then neither could you, Titus. If it’s true for me, it’s even more so for you.”
She felt his arms tighten reflexively. Then he released her and stepped back.
“Don’t turn my words around on me.”
“Why not?” She moved close again. “You didn’t know she was subject to seizures. You couldn’t possibly have known. All you knew is that she had a wrenched knee. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was sitting there, safe on the ledge waiting for some pain relief and transport. You couldn’t have known what was about to happen.”
He moved toward the fire, another evasive maneuver. This time, she let him put a little distance between them. She could see he was struggling to process what he’d learned.
“It doesn’t change anything. The truth is that if I’d driven a piton and tethered her before I did anything else, she’d still be here.”
“Do you do that a lot in search and rescue? Tie the person down before you give them first aid?”
He swung around again, scowling. “Most people I rescue aren’t sitting on a mountain ledge.”
She held his gaze. “I know you’ve been carrying this a long time, Titus. And I expect you always will, because that’s who you are. You take responsibility. But I hope in time, when this has had a chance to truly sink in, you might be able to let go of some of it.”
He turned away, but from every line of his back and shoulders, she could read the tension in him. The emotion.
She moved close, dared to put a hand on his back. The muscles were just as tightly bunched as she knew they’d be. “Lacey put herself up here. Whether o
r not she knew she was subject to seizures, we’ll never know. But you? You absolutely didn’t know. And if she was sitting securely, I can’t think why your first instinct would be to tether her to the mountainside. I mean, unless you had reason to think she was suicidal and might try to hurl herself off while you were busy digging your supplies out. And we both know she wasn’t remotely suicidal.”
The muscles in his back moved beneath her hands as he dropped his head.
“She just had a seizure at the wrong time,” Ocean said. “It was an accident. A tragic, horrible accident. But it could have happened while she was doing laps in the pool or while she was behind the wheel of her car. Or hell, while she was skydiving. Snowboarding. Pick your adrenaline sport.”
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left her out of reach, not for a second.” He turned to face her. “If I thought there was even a remote possibility…”
“I know,” she said, her throat hurting. She put her arms around him. “And I’m sure Lacey knows.”
His arms crushed her against him, but she still managed to burrow closer. He was so solid. So strong and steady and enduring, like the mountain itself.
They stayed that way for a while, arms around each other, sharing the burden together. After a while, she felt the tension in him beginning to drain away. “You can’t blame yourself.” She murmured the words against his chest. “You can’t blame yourself for Lacey dying any more than I can.”
“And any more than you can blame yourself for living?”
It took her a few seconds to process his words. The instant they sank in, she pushed at his chest. “What are you talking about?”
He released her, dropping his arms to his sides.
“That’s what this climb’s all about, isn’t it?” he said. “It’s not just to see the place where Lacey died. It’s to see the place where you died.”
How dared he? Where she died? That was like saying the last six years were for nothing. Screwing up her courage to face New York alone. Struggling to make friends and forge relationships. Working her butt off at a waitressing job so she could pay her share of the rent in that walkup apartment. Sitting down at the keyboard every chance she got, trying to push the words out, trying to bring characters to life. Having her ego battered again and again by her failures.
Anger erupted in her chest, white hot and scorching. It felt dangerous to her, like holding a loaded gun or a poisonous snake. Like if she lost control of it, someone would get hurt. Probably her. But dear God, she wanted to let it loose. Wanted to scream and lash out and smash things. Except that wasn’t her. She never did anything like that. Never lost her temper.
She swallowed her rage. Well, most of it. Enough so she could form a coherent sentence.
“Flesh and bone here.” She thumped her own chest about as hard as she wanted to thump his. “Beating heart and everything. Where the hell do you get off—”
“Where’s the life?”
She waited for that terrifying rage to flash over her again, but something even worse welled up.
Pain. Ragged, raw, awful pain.
“Where’s the passion?” he continued mercilessly. “The pulse? The emotion?”
Her breath caught in her throat. How could he be so cruel? How could—
“Where’s the heart, Ocean?”
She recognized those words! They weren’t his. They were Roz’s comments from the manuscript. He was repeating them. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Not fair.”
“Okay, I’m done quoting this Roz person,” Titus said softly, almost gently. “But I have one more question for you. Where’s the fearless heart?”
Though she’d braced for it, the question sliced her to the bone. Because the answer was so hard to face. So hard to acknowledge. She turned toward White Crow Cliff again, though she barely registered anything.
“Ocean?”
“It’s gone. It…went with Lacey.” She realized the truth of her statement—the depth of it—as she spoke. She turned back to face him. “Lacey and I were going to live so large in New York City. We had our dreams. No, they were more than dreams. They were promises we made to each other. I was going to become this great playwright, she was going to get her Masters. We were going to conquer the world. But Lacey didn’t make it to New York City. She—”
Ocean sucked in a breath. Oh, God, he was right.
He leaned closer. “What is it?”
“Lacey died,” she said. “She died and left me alone. How could I...” She cleared her throat and tried again. “How could I have the life we’d dreamed of together, without her?”
It all made sense to her now...Roz’s comments, everything. She’d been holding back. Scared to let her characters live. Scared to let herself live. Scared to let go of Lacey, this town, yesterday…
“Lacey lived her life the way she wanted.” Titus’s words broke into her thoughts. “She died climbing a mountain. You’re not to blame for that. Not that she died, not that you lived.”
Ocean looked away, swallowed the lump in her throat. Could she believe that? Could she ever be that brave?
Or could she be braver still?
She drew a deep breath, let it out. Drew another one. This is for you, Lacey.
Her friend’s clear, beautiful laughter rang in Ocean’s mind. Atta girl, Osch.
She looked up into Titus’s eyes. Now was the time for bravery. To let go. To live.
“You want fearless, Titus Standish? How’s this for fearless—I want to make love with you.”
His eyes widened, possibly in horror. She couldn’t tell.
“That’s right, I want to have wild, mind-blowing sex with you. I’ve wanted it forever.” Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she could feel every distinct beat. “That’s why I was so upset last night when you left the cabin.”
His eyes darkened. “Ocean…”
“Have I shocked you?”
“A little. Not in a bad way.”
“Remember last year when I came home at Christmas?”
“Considering I almost kissed you before your boyfriend came in, yeah, I remember.”
What? “You almost kissed me? Really?”
“Well, I might have, if that Jeremy guy hadn’t come in.”
“Jarrod,” she corrected. “I brought him home for Christmas because I wanted to show him off. I wanted you to see that even if you weren’t interested in me, this funny, smart, good looking, urbane man was.”
“Oh, I wanted you,” he said. “Every year you came home, you were more grown up. More beautiful, more poised. Harder to ignore.”
Her heart kicked up another notch.
“Well, if I’d known that, I’d have left Jarrod home. And I’d have jumped your bones in a New York minute.”
“Make that a Harkness minute,” he said.
She arched an eyebrow? “A Harkness minute?”
“Yeah. A New York minute’s too fast. I’d have gone slower, savored every second.” He flashed a grin, but his face sobered quickly. “Actually, I don’t know if it would have made any difference. The way I saw things, you were a New Yorker, and I...I was stuck here on the farm. You got away, but I’d always be here.”
“And now I’m back.” Even as she said it, she knew it was true. Knew it in her soul. “Maybe I’m supposed to be back. Nothing to do with Mom calling, nor the whole running home with my tail between my legs sort of thing. Maybe I’m supposed to be here.” She met his gaze and held it. “In Harkness. Maybe my muse is here. On this mountain. Home. Knowing what I know now…it’s time to live. In New York, I was always thinking about what I should be feeling. Now…now I can be more honest to what I’m truly feeling. At least I think I can.”
The look in his brown eyes warmed her to her toes. “That’s terrific, Ocean.”
“It is, isn’t it? Omigod, it’s just clicked into place.” She shook her head in wonder at the gift. “Maybe it was learning that about Lacey. Titus, I know I’m rambling…repeating myself…but maybe my muse really is here, i
n this little mountain town where I grew up. Maybe it’s always been here. I left New York because I thought I’d failed, but maybe I just needed to come home. To be here.”
“Probably a little of both. And I’m glad you’re back to stay. I’m sure you’ll do Harkness proud.”
“I hope so.”
His eyes darkened. “You will. I won’t be around to see it, but I’m sure Arden will fill me in.”
Her stomach tightened at his words. “What do you mean, you won’t be around?”
“I’m finally getting out. I’d begun to think the day would never come, but it has.”
“I don’t understand. You’re leaving Harkness?”
“It’s my chance, Ocean.”
The shift from happy optimism about her writing to what the hell made her head spin. Literally. She pressed a hand to her temple. How could he be leaving town after all these years? He was such a huge part of the fabric of Harkness. Of the whole Prince Region. Dammit, he was like the mountain itself. Resolute. Immovable. How the hell could he be leaving?
“Your chance?” She just looked at him, trying to grasp what he’d said.
“To try to forge the life I wanted,” he said. “The life I planned before Mom got sick and Dad sank into his grief.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ve applied to the RCMP, and they’ve accepted me into the cadet training program. Apparently, mature candidates are welcome. Thirty-two isn’t too late anymore.”
“The RCMP?” She was starting to feel like a parrot.
“I’d have to pass the training, stay fit through it. There are no guarantees.”
Of course he’d pass it. She wet her lips. “What about the farm? How will Arden manage?”
“We’ve got a buyer for the farm. The transaction closes on Tuesday.”
Arden was selling the farm? A minute ago, she would have said that was inconceivable. That land had been in the Standish family for well over eighty years. “Wait, did you say Tuesday? Are you leaving that quickly?”
He shook his head. “No, we’ve got until the end of the month to get everything tidied up and get out. I’ll actually have to leave for Regina sooner than that, but I’ll make sure all is ready.”