Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1)

by Sierra Kummings

  He laughed off her attempt at being hard. “Ah, come on, Sara Beth.” His one-armed hug lifted her from the ground. “Being aliiiiive recharges me.”

  “Mm-hmm. Well, your wife needs help. So put me down, you big bully, and get to it.” Her sister didn’t succumb to life’s trials usually. The fact she’d been that close still worried Sara no matter how quick she’d seemed to bounce back. “If you’ve been failing at your part, bro, there’ll be no saving you from the Morrow clan.” Sara might not be tough, but Riley sure was. And if Sage and their mother got thrown in the mix too, there’d be no hope for Christopher. Sara jabbed her finger at his chest again, but this time winked. “Maddie looks like her battery’s been depleted so long that it needs a jump start. Don’t let me down, buddy. Go jump your wife.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.” His smile turned into a salute.

  Sara laughed as he shimmied down the hall. “In case you can’t see me, I’m flipping you off.”

  His own laughter reached her until the master bedroom door clicked closed.

  Since Tessa had quieted down, Sara paused at the family wall, monitor in hand, studying the women she loved. Each member had a laminated picture Velcroed at the little girl’s wheelchair level. Her parents and Christopher’s photos lined up along the wall first, then the five sisters. No two of the girls carried more than a few of the same traits, borrowing just enough differences from each parent to make them all have a family resemblance but nothing else. Maddie and Sara were the tallest, with Sara being the curvier of the two, Riley and Sage average, and Abby—the odd man out—shared the same five-foot-one frame as their mother.

  Oddly enough, each of their personalities matched their respective looks.

  Of the five, Sara was the most easy going and at times given to the same whimsy as the wavy hair she never seemed to be able to tame. Even in the photo posted on the wall, the wind had blown her hair in every direction. The camera had captured Abby’s daring yet virginal status perfectly, too. The youngest of the sisters had an hourglass figure reminiscent of fifties pin-up girls while her natural ringlet curls framed her face in a cherubic angel kind of way.

  Maddie had always been no nonsense, but Tessa’s birth had made her even more so. Her near constant bun gave off a schoolmarm image that suited her job as an elementary teacher, yet the loose tendrils that escaped to frame her face showed just how frayed at the edges she was living a life that guaranteed her little to no sleep. In her picture, the smile on her face didn’t quite erase the fatigue around her eyes.

  Then there was Sage. Sara laughed at the perturbed look on her middle sister’s face. Lord only knew what had caused Sage’s ire at the moment the photographer had snapped the photo. It could’ve been anything from the feud with her neighbor, to a problem at work, to the donut shop having run out of her favorite bagel. Sage was a princess in her own mind, but in reality, she spent her days doing hair and her nights partying, and the funky platinum blonde two-inch spikes on top of her head honored both aspects of her.

  Riley and Sage were the closest in age between all of them, but the two couldn’t be more different. Riley’s stoicism countered Sage’s flair for the dramatic and manifested not just in her facial expressions but in the shape she kept her well-disciplined body in, too. She worked out six days a week and rarely smiled except for when she was with Tessa. Her mood had darkened considerably over the last six years, yet Riley had still smiled big for the camera, flexing her toned bicep that held her only tattoo. She’d designed the sleeve of wilting roses and menacing thorns in honor of their niece. In the middle of her bicep, resting on the small rise of muscle, rays of sunlight burned a path free of ensnaring vines, and a single vibrant tulip lay atop the damaged ground, thriving, beautiful, purple—Tessa’s favorite color.

  Sara traced her fingers over the last picture on the wall. In it, her niece held her prized yellow giraffe, too absorbed in her toy to notice the camera trained on her.

  Sara turned off the monitor and headed to the little girl’s room, needing to see Tessa in person. After peeking at the sleeping angel as quietly as she could, she began the typical start to any shift. Review medication log—check. Look over daily notes—check.

  Tessa rolled over to stomach and made the saddest sounding whimper. Poor baby. Sara put down the binder that was Maddie’s bible and stepped to the bedside to rub the little girl’s back. She whispered, “What’s up with your mom and dad, baby girl?” Though Tessa still slept, Sara extended her fingers vertically and double tapped her thumb to her chin for “mom”, then to her forehead for “dad”. A rudimentary knowledge of sign language allowed the little girl to communicate basic needs, and they’d all learned with her. Signing the few words they’d worked on was so commonplace it’d become second nature to all of the sisters.

  Sara stroked her niece’s flaxen hair when the whimpers continued. “We need to kick this illness soon so we can play.” Because it was Tessa’s favorite word, Sara curled the index, middle, and ring fingers of both hands into her palms, leaving her thumb and pinkie out, and swayed her hands from side to side.

  Tessa smiled as if she recognized Sara’s attempts at communicating even in sleep.

  That’s right, baby girl. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.

  Tessa’s giggle made Sara look up from her seat on the bedside recliner where she’d been reading the newest book from her favorite author. No one could write hot cowboys like Lorelei James, and Sara devoured the words on the page more hungrily than she ate when fried chicken was placed in front of her. But not even cowboys could compare to the sound of her niece’s giggle. “Is that my happy niece, I hear?”

  Tessa pressed the flat of her hand against the window panel on the side of her bed, looking out at Sara with the bright wide eyes that characterized the little angel.

  Tessa’s smile warmed Sara’s heart. “Were you just faking your illness until I got here so we could party?” She signed and made her way over to the girl who was now digging her heels in the bed to bounce her bottom up and down against the mattress in excitement. “Oh, you were, were you? Well I won’t tell your mommy and daddy if you don’t.”

  With minimal effort, Sara lifted her forty-five-pound niece from her confinement and took her and her now dry nose back to the recliner. “What do you say you and I do a little singing therapy, hmm? Would you like that?”

  Tessa’s blonde hair flew every which way with the force of her head as she nodded and cooed up at Sara.

  “Okay, okay. I think it’s safe to say that’s a yes.” Laughing, Sara kissed a still pale forehead, checking for any remnants of fever, but thankfully even that seemed to have subsided. “So, what do you say? Old MacDonald or Hokey Pokey?”

  An arm and a leg went wildly into action at Tessa’s request for her favorite song.

  “The Hokey Pokey it is.”

  Each of the sisters treated the girl as if she were their own, but for Sara, an unexplained deeper bond existed. Christopher had been away on a business trip when Maddie had gone into labor four weeks early, and the Morrow women had rallied in the birthing room. Since she was closest when Tessa’s head crowned, the doctor had asked if Sara wanted to “catch” her. With her hands underneath, she’d cradled the head as the OB maneuvered the shoulders free of the birth canal, and a few seconds later Tessa slipped into her arms.

  Maybe it was because she’d had that first special moment, her touch the first to caress Tessa’s baby soft skin, or maybe it was just the power inherent in the little girl’s knowing gaze. Whatever the reason, her love for her niece equaled any she imagined feeling for her own future children, and for the next three hours, the two of them sang together and danced, in addition to taking care of necessities like medicine, and potty and feeding breaks. When Tessa fell asleep after another exuberant round of her favorite song, Sara laid her back in her bed, kissing her forehead before taking the monitor and heading out to the living room.

  “Man, that little girl is cute.”
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  “She sure is, isn’t she?”

  Sara jumped at the response to her comment. She’d spoken aloud, but just to herself. She hadn’t expected anyone to respond, much less him.

  She glanced at her dad in uncomfortable surprise.

  He stood in the doorway, making no move to come further into the house.

  “What are you doing here?” Her sister typically warned her before any such visit. “Did Maddie know you were coming? They’re still out. They should be home soon, but I’m sure they won’t feel like a visit. They seemed exceptionally tired.” As usual Sara’s nerves caused her to babble.

  Would she ever get over the damage he’d done?

  He looked just as uncomfortable as she felt, shuffling his feet in the entryway. “Yeah, um, that's why I'm here. I spoke to her after they left. She didn’t sound so good. I told her I’d relieve you so they could stay out and get a good night’s sleep.”

  Sara stood there in silence, not knowing what to say.

  His gesture was nice—incredibly, wonderfully nice—and for some reason that gave her hope for her own life. Maybe she should give herself a bit of credit for recognizing something she wanted in Jacob and having had the balls to go after it, instead of castigating herself for succumbing to his charm. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the moments as they presented themselves? There’d been no causalities in their encounters. And even if there had been, people made mistakes, but they weren’t defined by them. They were defined by how they stepped up after those mistakes.

  Like her father had now.

  The damage that man had done to her mother might never be healed, and that was his burden to own, but he’d made efforts in each of his daughters’ lives. Sara had just been too heartbroken to entertain his attempts.

  Some of Sara’s cynicism left her, and for once, rather than doubting her father’s sincerity, she crossed to him and laid her head against the shoulder that used to provide her shelter.

  12

  Storms raged again outside the next night and Sara’s toes thanked her while they curled into the yellow fuzzy duck slippers that caused Tessa to fall into a fit of delight each time she saw them. It was a nice benefit of working late hours from home. They weren’t appropriate bank wear, but they kept her warm and matched her hot pink flannel pajamas quite nicely.

  “I can’t believe you did it.” Ray shot her a grin from his sprawl on her couch.

  “We did it.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “It’s not a lie. You’ve been a life saver.” And a miracle worker. Sara couldn’t have done half of what they’d accomplished for the Gallos without Ray’s help, including giving the kids a Christmas they’d remember in positive terms for years to come despite their recent heartache. “You started your own nonprofit right out of college. I’d say you’re more qualified than I am at this stuff.”

  “If only. All I really started was a dream, and from the looks of things, a forever home in my parent’s garage where I’ll die a bachelor. Gah, what self-respecting man would want to date a twenty-five-year-old guy who still lives with his parents?”

  Sara chuckled at the confirmation that Ray was indeed gay. Bel was right; Sara apparently had zero gaydar.

  “Yeah, sure. You can laugh. You’ve got your own place, a well-paying job. Me, I’ve done four events. Four. In three years. And you’ve been more successful in this one than all of mine combined. The corporate sponsors, equipment donations… hell, pretty much everything you did. All I brought to the table was a damn minivan.”

  “Not just any minivan.” Sara relaxed back into the recliner she’d been lucky enough to find at a thrift store. Aside from a tear in the seam on the footrest, it was in mint condition. She raised the footrest and wiggled her feet, watching the ducks’ heads bob.

  Okay, so maybe Tessa wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the fuzzy slippers.

  Sara grinned and nudged Ray with one yellow foot. “I’ll have you know, a new handicapped van that has a wheelchair ramp and all the accessories is like the holy grail for the families at Tessa’s school. You’ll be the hero of the fundraiser, I assure you.”

  He grinned back, holding up his tablet to show her the screenshot of their latest spreadsheet. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  Hell yeah, it did. “I knew people were generous, but this is incredible. What did everyone do before GoFundMe started up?”

  “They slaved away like me, making connections with corporate sponsors and building alliances with people with deep pockets. You know, the things you seem to do with ease. If I could afford someone like you on my team, my job would be a breeze.” Ray put down his tablet and stared at her intently. “What would it take to get you to come and work for me?”

  A wish, a hope, and a prayer. And roughly a hundred thousand dollars to pay off her student loan debt. “Offer me a salary I can live on, and I’ll join you in a heartbeat.”

  “If only I could.”

  Thunder rattled the window frames in a way that didn’t happen often in San Diego.

  Uneasy about the conditions outside, Sara pushed down her footrest. The storms of the past few days had turned into something unlike any she remembered seeing. Southern California was both blessed and cursed by the absence of heavy rainfall. It kept them in a constant state of a drought yet spoiled them at the same time. “It’s not letting up out there. Maybe you should head home before it gets any worse.” She’d no more than said the words when the living room lights flickered and went out, plunging everything into darkness as the sound of rain pelted the roof of her apartment. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t be driving in this. You’re more than welcome to crash on the couch—”

  Her cell phone rang from its spot on the coffee table, lighting the darkness. Its ring at 12:30 a.m. sounded even more ominous than the storm. Sara grabbed it and answered Maddie’s call with one word, “Tessa.” Her niece’s recovery the night before meant nothing as far as the little girl’s immune system was concerned. Sara’s heart stopped for a beat while she waited for Maddie to say something. “Sis, what’s wrong with baby girl?”

  “N-nothing. Tessa’s fine.” Maddie’s answer was far from reassuring. Her voice trembled and Maddie was as strong as a rock. Yet tonight, her sister struggled to push out more than a whispered, “Christopher’s missing.”

  Sara held the phone out, staring at it in confusion before putting it back to her ear. “I don’t understand. Christopher?” Maddie and her husband had returned from the hotel that morning. How could he be missing?

  “We fought. Earlier. He said he was going to the boat.”

  Lightning flashed from outside the window, illuminating pale peach walls adorned with family photos. The light haloed Christopher and Maddie’s wedding portrait that hung centered in the mix as if in an omen of things to come.

  Maddie’s voice cracked, “It’s been hours and he hasn’t come home. I’m scared. The storm…”

  “No! Don’t even think that.”

  “Sara, this isn’t us. We always come home.”

  Exactly! They always came home. Christopher also always took precautions, especially when it came to his boat. He might’ve said he planned to go to his boat, but with the weather… No. Sara didn’t believe it. He’d show up any minute with some logical explanation. His voice of male reason had helped Sara countless times throughout the years. “Have you checked with Riley?” One of the girls had to know where he was. He wouldn’t have just disappeared. “Whenever there’s trouble, he goes to Riley first.”

  “He hasn’t contacted anyone all night.”

  Once Riley had stopped partying, she’d become their brother’s confidant. He’d had no family of his own since his grandparents died, and friends had stopped hanging around years ago in the sad but typical way that happened whenever someone had a child with special needs. Having to turn down most requests to hang out due to their greater responsibilities at home had isolated both Christopher and Maddie.

  Maddie’s gentle
sobs sent Sara in a mad search for her keys. Maddie only cried about Tessa. If she was upset over Christopher, something had happened. Something bad. “Maddie what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. We… there are problems… No, that doesn’t matter. This isn’t like him.”

  Sara’s heart began a nervous rhythm. Tessa’s twenty-four-hour care meant neither could leave without careful planning. “I’ll be there in twenty. Ask Dad to take Tessa, then call Mom, Abby, Sage, and Riley. Tell them to meet us at your place. We’ll find him. I promise.” Disbelief in the sentiment only made Sara pray harder.

  She slipped her phone in her pocket, barely sparing Ray a glance. “I’ve got to—”

  “Go. Don’t worry about me.” He followed as she raced out the door in her flannel pajamas, fuzzy slippers and all.

  13

  “Feel like nursing that beer tonight or getting down and dirty with a nurse?” The woman named Tonya touched her beer to Jacob’s, saluted, and chugged the contents to the chant of her name.

  Lacking her enthusiasm, Jacob popped the top and followed suit.

  When he and his two friends had arrived fifteen minutes prior, each of them had gravitated to different parts of the uneven circle. The fire in the middle crackled and gave off an inviting warmth, but that and the seemingly infinite amount of beer had been two of the few draws for Jacob. He’d thought he had picked the corner where he’d be less likely to garner attention from any of the women in attendance, far away from the guy strumming on a guitar. Tonya, however, had taken Jacob’s distance as a personal challenge. She’d come over as soon as he’d sat down, interpreting his acceptance of the beer she’d offered as a willingness for more.