Nocturne
Page 35
I expected a fight.
“I understand,” Oliver said, and he reached for my hand.He was nodding like he’d been in my shoes before… like he completely understood. “And I’m coming with you.”
I had to give my head a shake. He wasn’t arguing with me? “You could die. Because of me.”
He smiled. “You know the way you feel about Luke?” Oliver’s eyes glistened as he took in the sky, grey and wide as it stretched across the snowy prairies. “I feel the same way about you.”
I left my hand in his and studied the world before me—the big, wide world. With Oliver beside me, I could conquer it. I linked my fingers through his. “Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
The base of his throat bobbed. “Anytime. You know you'll always be my girl, Kaya.”
He didn’t mean possessively. “I know.”
The sky darkened, and the snow fell harder. We were going to get a storm. A big one. The wind picked up and brought with it a stinging taste of things to come—but I was ready for it.
She’d described him so perfectly I knew it was him the instant I saw his face. There was no doubt in my mind who the man on the television was, and no doubt he was not being filmed of his own free will.
I’d been questioning my next move, but the answer came to me in the form of a cryptic ad for cold medicine. The message was one only me and a few others might understand; Kaya needed help. This was a sign, a confirmation, and a total affirmation of what I had to do next—which was get off this stinking ranch.
I plopped down on the floor next to my bed, the carpet gone, the blankets brand new, and the smell of bleach still strong even two days later. Whatever happened in our house while we were gone must have been bad. So bad that a massive undertaking to erase all evidence of it had left behind new windows, new floors, and countless tire tracks across the lawn. Couches, pillows, cutlery, and some of my clothes had disappeared. So did every bit of hay and straw in the barn. There was a bank draft for five hundred thousand dollars and a note attached that said, ‘Hope you enjoyed your vacation. Keep this quiet or it will become permanent,’ taped to the fridge. A warning for sure. A threat most definitely. And I knew who it was from—I knew more than Kaya thought I did.
Daddy had sworn loudly when he’d found the note, and then marched out the door to round up the horses. Mom had just given her head a shake, started to cry, and then headed to the kitchen to bake. That night, not a word was spoken about what might have happened. Not a word was spoken about Ben being missing either. Mostly because saying it out loud meant opening a can of worms not one of us would be able to put back.
It was the next morning, out in the barn, when I’d found the note addressed to me. I recognized the handwriting. I also recognized the floral stationary I’d bought at the dollar store a while back. It was stuck on a nail in Zander’s pen, and, oddly enough, the horse didn’t spook when I reached for it. He seemed calm, nudging my arm for oats as I pulled the paper out of the thin envelope.
Marlene,
I want to thank you for being there for me and for being a friend. It is rare these days to meet someone like you, and I will cherish every moment you gave me. Things happened at your house—really bad things—and I’m sorry I couldn’t have prevented it. People were hurt. Thomas is okay, though. He is with me. Just know I am going to do what I can to make things right. My hope is that you will carry on, forget you ever knew me, and live a long and wonderful life.
I will never forget you,
Love,
Kaya.
I gathered up some clothes and then opened the box I kept hidden under my bed; I had close to five thousand dollars. I never knew what I was saving every birthday cent or paycheck from shoveling snow for. But now I did…
The keys to the truck were sitting underneath my red wool cap; both went into my jacket pocket. So did the handgun I’d owned since sixth grade—a very disturbing present from a very disturbed uncle—along with my favorite hunting knife. Then I wrote my own note, on the same stationary, and addressed it to Mom and Dad. I didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt, remorse, or trepidation about leaving when I set it on the coffee table.
On the way out the door, I could hear Mom softly talking to her pie dough and see Dad wrestling with the stubborn Clydesdale out in the pasture. I stopped to look at them—really look at them. They were beautiful. They’d given me everything, and I loved them dearly… but it was time to go. For the first time in my life, I had a purpose beyond digging holes and staying out of everyone’s way; I had a friend who needed me.
Don’t miss book 3 in the Nightmusic Trilogy!
Also by Heather McKenzie
The Nightmusic Trilogy
Serenade
Nocturne
Heather McKenzie is a Canadian author and Serenade is her first novel. A professional singer/songwriter with five albums to date, she has been telling stories through music for years and pulls from her extraordinary experiences as a musician to fuel her passion for creating Young Adult fiction. A rocker at heart, a mom of three, an aspiring painter, and a lover of animals, she is kept grounded by her husband at their home in Edmonton. You can visit Heather at www.heathermckenzie.com
Acknowledgments
Thank you…
This book wouldn’t have been possible without the support of my husband, Byran Bueckert, who kept reality in check and looked after life while I wandered about in my dream world. Haley Bueckert—your encouragement, love, and willingness to dream right along with me was more treasured than you will ever know. Emily Bueckert and Josh Bueckert—your extremely honest criticism was so important and valued—I am grateful for every word you read. Mom—thanks for being there for me, always, and tackling the first mammoth manuscript like a champ. My friend Tammy Wiebe—I felt like you truly believed in me, and that has fueled the fires to keep me going. Thank you for the advice and for being there for me in so many ways. You are my number one! Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone at Clean Teen Publishing; I am so grateful for all you do! Rebecca Gober, Courtney Knight, Marya Heiman, Melanie Newton, and Wendy Martinez—your patience, dedication and guidance is so appreciated and I am so honored to be a part of CTP. Cynthia Shepp, you are a rock star! I am eternally grateful for your mad editing skills and in complete awe of your vast literary knowledge. Thank you for everything you’ve done for Nocturne. Also a huge thanks to Shelley Mckenzie, the best sister in the world, and Reanne and Kieran Averay-Jones, Grant Tarapacki, My bro Brian Vincent, Ross McKenzie, Stan Pietrusik, Darrell Newsham, DJ Newsham, Courtney Whittamore, Kourtney Bueckert, Myrna Bueckert, my incredible Mckenzie family, and supportive Bueckert family. To everyone who read SERENADE and sent me positive vibes, thank you so much! To my musician friends and all the Edmontonians who have supported me musically and have hopped on board my author adventure, I treasure you more than you know. I am wildly grateful for all of you! — HMB
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