A couple hours later, I had my papers ready. I walked down to the lobby, careful to not hurt my stitches. Thorn hadn’t responded to my phone call, and I was growing worried. I called him again, and this time it rang.
Thorn answered quickly with a gruff, "Yes?"
"Did you get my message?" I asked with irritation.
"Yeah, I'm on my way. Are you still in the room?"
"I'm in the lobby," I replied.
Thorn grumbled, "Damn, I'm sorry. I got caught up dealing with Pierce."
"It's fine. I'll be here." I said. "See you when you get here."
We said goodbye, and then I closed the phone. I relaxed knowing that he was on the way. I watched the lobby TV through drooping eyelids. The minutes droned together, and the news segment changed a couple of times before I saw Thorn enter the lobby. He stalked over to me with a look that seemed displeased. "Ready?" he asked, and I got to my feet carefully.
The ride to the cottage was a quiet one. When we got there, Thorn let me in and took my bag. I collapsed down into one of the soft chairs in the foyer and instantly regretted it as I winced. Thorn came back into the room and gave me an amused look.
"I'm tired," I said plaintively.
"I see that," Thorn said. "Hungry? Thirsty?"
I shook my head, reaching out so he could help pull me up out of the soft chair. He grasped my hand and hauled me up to my feet. I thanked him and then leaned into the blond man. He put his arm around my shoulders gently to keep from hurting me.
"My family wants me to come stay with them while I recover," I said softly against his shirt.
"Family is good!"
Nodding my agreement, I looked at Thorn. "I need to go see them after everything that has happened. I feel like I owe it to them."
"I understand, Victor," he said in that reasonable tone that he had. "As long as Sheriff Mullen gives you the go-ahead to leave, then I think you should go see your family."
"Yeah," I replied softly. "When the sheriff came to see me in the hospital, he said I could as long as I was willing to come back for the trials and such."
"Well, sounds like it's all settled, then." He let his arm drop off my shoulders and stepped away into the kitchen. "The band’s chomping at the bit to finish the tour that I cut short to come home. With my ankle mostly healed, Pierce is ready to book the first dates and get us on the road again."
My heart sank. "Sounds like we might not see each other again for a long time," I said softly.
Thorn shrugged. "You have your bridges to mend, and I have my obligations." He gave me a smile. "If you need me, though, you know how to get a hold of me."
I smiled. I could always reach him through the connection.
"After you’re well enough and I’m no longer on the road constantly, promise me that we'll see each other again."
I looked at the man. I felt him through the connection, and I said, "Deal."
ELEVEN
My mother and grandmother were pretty much like I remembered them. It was like I had never walked out that door. I’d seen them over the years, but not for any extended time. Being around them now felt richer and deeper. I understood them better, and they both commented on how much I had matured. I didn’t talk to them about Carver's Corner or the little girl in the alley; I merely visited with them. I just needed to know that I still had them.
It might have seemed silly to others, but my time in Carver's Corner had brought me a deeper understanding of what it meant to belong somewhere. I wanted that desperately. I wanted to find my greater place in the world. At the end of two months, my wounds were mostly healed, but I felt lost.
I hadn’t spoken to Thorn in over a month. He’d left on tour with his band a few weeks after I left Carver's Corner. I thought he was somewhere in Texas, from what Oliver had told me in the emails he kept sending me, as if he was determined to keep me in the loop. I wanted to tell the man that he did not have to bother, but I decided that maybe Oliver needed to write for himself.
Most nights, I saw Thorn in my dreams. Through the connection, we were never separated, and we spent most nights talking in our dreams about our lives. I missed having him in my life as a physical person, but we haunted each other as we traveled. The urge to return to Carver's Corner had taken hold, but Thorn wasn’t there.
I visited my father for a bit and settled things up with my lease and such. It was not as big a problem as I had thought it would be. I was still at my father's when the phone rang. I looked at the ID, smiling as I lifted the phone to my ear.
I answered it with a soft, "Hey." It was late, and I preferred not to disturb my father, who was already asleep. I got up and shut my laptop, where I had been working on a manuscript.
"I gather I didn't wake you, then?" Thorn asked in amusement.
I considered lying, but I knew he’d know, so I just said, "I was writing. What are you doing up so late?"
"Just got out of a show," Thorn answered simply.
"Got tired of all those groupies and decided to call me?"
His chuckle rang in my ear, and I heard someone ask Thorn a question. I listened to Thorn reply, "No, thanks. I think I'm gonna crash." There was a pause as a male voice said something, but I couldn’t tell what. Thorn said, "Don, you’re lucky your wife can stand you."
The next instant Thorn spoke again, and this time I could tell he was talking to me. "Honestly, you think folk rock groups have groupies?"
"Yes," I said firmly, smiling up at the ceiling.
Thorn's smile came through his words as he spoke. "That's right, Victor; I have groupies hidden in my truck right now!"
I burst out laughing so loudly that I was afraid I would wake up my dad, and I tried to stifle it in the pillow my head was on. When I could speak again, I replied, "Don't do that. I'm at my dad's, and he's sleeping."
"Oh," Thorn said in amusement. "I wondered why you were practically whispering. I thought you might just have been trying to talk all breathy at me."
I covered my mouth as I laughed again. I whispered, "Stop that..."
"No," Thorn said, as if he was having great fun. I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He then said, "We have one more show in a couple days."
The thought of what was supposed to happen at the end of the tour came to mind. "So, you’re going to be home then?"
"Hopefully," Thorn said.
I fidgeted with the covers and asked, "Did they ever set Robert's trial date?"
"I don't know if it’ll be much of a trial. Robert has practically pleaded guilty and waived his rights to a trial at this point. I don't blame him. With all the testimonies they had lined up from Darren and us, he didn't have much of a chance of getting out of it. They'll probably put him up before the judge for the formality of sentencing," Thorn explained.
Oliver had hinted that things might go that route the last time I’d gotten an email from him. "As long as he isn't out where he can shoot anyone else," I said resolutely.
"Indeed," Thorn agreed. "Did Oliver tell you that they’re more than likely going to put Arthur away in an institution? Even Arthur's attorney is calling for it."
I turned over on my side, attempting to get comfortable. "Yeah. That's probably the best place for him."
"Maybe," Thorn said noncommittally. "So, do I have to come to your dad's and get you?"
"No. I think I can just about manage to get to the airport in Marson."
"Are you sure?" Thorn asked challengingly.
Mentally I reached out, and I felt the connection with Thorn. "I can make it on my own. I'm just wondering when I should try to book a flight."
"Why don't I book it for you so we can get back into town about the same time?"
"Are you seriously calling me poor again?"
"Yes," Thorn said. "I'm beat. Let's go get some sleep."
I shook my head. "Good night, Thorn."
Two days later the phone rang again, and I picked it up without looking at the ID. "Yes, Thorn?"
"Your flight leaves at twelve t
hirty P.M. tomorrow out of Trenton-Mercer. You good with that?" he asked.
I laughed. "Nice to hear from you, Thorn. Yes, that's fine."
He said quickly, "Great! I gotta go."
"Wow. Really?" I asked in mock irritation.
His tone sounded apologetic. "Sorry. I've gotta go do the sound check. I'll talk to you again soon."
The line then went dead, and I sighed at the phone before clicking it off. I went to go tell my dad that I was leaving. I found him in the study leaning over his books. He was a professor of literature, and I knew better than to just barge in. I gently rapped my knuckles on the open door.
Dad looked up at me over his glasses and waved for me to come in. "What is it, Victor?"
"I just got a call from my friend. I'm leaving tomorrow at noon to go back to Colorado," I said awkwardly.
My father gave me a smile. "Sounds like an adventure. You must’ve really liked it out there."
I nodded slowly. I thought about all that had happened in Carver's Corner but merely replied, "Well...it was never dull, at any rate."
"Need a lift to the airport tomorrow, then?" he asked as he looked back down at his books and papers.
"Yeah; that'd be great. Listen, I don't know how long I'll be out in Colorado for..." I trailed off.
He waved off my concern. "You’re a grown man, and you have your own life. I just demand that you come see me every now and then."
Smiling, I readily agreed. "You got it."
"Victor," Dad began as he took his glasses off and cleaned them with a cloth he had lying beside him, "Tell me something. This friend of yours, do you trust him?"
"With my life," I said without hesitation.
Dad smiled and said, "Sounds like a good friend, then." He slid his glasses back on and resumed poring over his papers.
After my dad dropped me off at the airport the next day, I had some spare time after finally getting my ticket. Sitting in the busy terminal, I watched the people going by. The call to board startled me back to reality, and I gathered up my bags.
I spent most of the flight in a dreamless sleep. I roused up to the alert to put on our seat belts, rubbing my face. The lights of Marson Airport shone through the late afternoon sunshine. It took a good deal of time for everyone to disembark, but maybe that was just because I was anxious to be off the plane.
I could feel Thorn's presence closer than I had felt it in months. When I finally made it into the airport, I looked around for the blond but didn’t see him. I sighed in disappointment.
I thought as hard as I could to Thorn, Where are you?
"What’re you shouting for?" Thorn's voice said in amusement, and I turned to see him walking toward me.
I smiled and walked to meet him in the middle; we stopped just short of each other. Thorn glanced around the airport, and I said, "It's good to see you!"
He looked back at me, smiling as well. "And you! Come on, let's get outta here." He grabbed my hand and practically pulled me along, much to my amusement.
We got a few looks as the blond dragged me along, but I just laughed. I quickly stepped up beside him and gave his hand a squeeze. Navigating the airport was troublesome with the throngs of people coming and going. When we finally stepped out the front door, Thorn breathed a sigh of relief.
I tugged his hand. "Take me home."
The ride back to Carver's Corner was filled with mindless conversation; the real conversation was going on within our emotions. I could feel our uncertainty and other feelings blending around each other. My hand was lying over his on the gear shift. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along my hand as he drove.
The cottage appeared the same. It was early evening by the time we pulled to a stop in front. We got out of the truck, and Thorn walked up to unlock the front door. I glanced around at the garden that was starting to bloom. So, that's what it looks like when it isn't covered in snow, I mused.
Thorn walked back over and said, "Admire the flowers later."
I gave him a grin and followed him toward the house. As I stepped through the threshold, Thorn shut the door behind us, took my bags, and put them down on the floor in the foyer. By mutual agreement, we left the bags where they were and walked down the hallway.
Thorn held out his hand, and I grasped it. He pulled me toward him, and I playfully pulled back. We played our ridiculous game of tug-of-war down the length of the hallway. When we got to the door, I turned the knob but found it locked. I leaned against the door and sighed at the blond.
He just gave me a shrug, reaching around me to unlock the door. I allowed him to hook his arm around my waist and pull me up straight as he twisted the doorknob open. It was a good excuse to press close to him, and it felt nice.
He looked me in the eyes. "I almost didn't think you would come back."
"Why?" I asked, puzzled.
"This isn't exactly a place that holds happy memories for you," he said softly.
"Thorn..." I whispered. "I was the happiest I have ever been right here."
His fingers brushed my shaggy hair out of my face. I hadn’t given haircuts much thought in the last three months. "I'm glad you came back," he breathed.
I watched him for a long moment before I smiled and said, "And you call yourself a psychic!"
He laughed. "It's been an odd few months."
Joining him in laughter, I had to agree. "Good times," I replied with a smile.
"Yeah. I love almost getting killed every other day," he said with an answering smile. "Is this what life with you is always like?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm so used to ignoring my power that I'm not sure what life will be like from now on. Besides, you’re one to talk."
He chuckled. "But I'm retired."
"I don't believe that!" I told him fervently, realizing that he was still holding me around the waist. But I didn’t mind; we had an odd relationship. "You guys working on that album still?"
Thorn nodded. "Yeah. It'll take a few months' worth of work before we’re ready to go to the studio with it, though."
"So, we've got a few months of relative downtime?" I asked him hopefully.
He nodded again, and then he got a devious look. "Do you want to annoy my brother and watch hockey?" he whispered conspiratorially.
I laughed brightly and replied, "More than anything!"
EPILOGUE
Thorn and I worked well in the cottage. We cleaned out his grandmother's room; I set it up mostly as an office, but it was technically my room. He worked on his album, and I worked on my writing.
Oliver continued to assume that Thorn and I were lovers. And Thorn found great amusement in tormenting his brother in that way, despite the fact that we were not lovers—even if our relationship bordered on intimate at times. It was hard to explain a soul friend to someone who had never experienced it before, and Thorn had too much fun making Oliver uncomfortable to try it.
Oliver and Ginger did indeed end up back together. They swiftly broke up again a couple times, but they settled down eventually. I wondered if my dream would soon come true and Ginger's brood would become a reality. I kept that to myself. Truly, the happiness of the couple was enough for me.
Ginger had changed so much. Her laughter was brighter, and Oliver, too, seemed changed for the better. Whatever had separated them in the past, the experience in the mines had clearly bridged the gap between the two lovers.
My dreams stayed at bay for a long time after that. It was one of those blissful periods after a raging storm. That wasn’t to say that my dreams never came back. They did. They brought nightmares that I wished I’d never seen, but for those few months, I got to taste a life where I belonged.
Kristy has been making up her own stories for entertainment for most of her life. Eleven years back she decided that perhaps others would want to walk through the worlds she has created. With over 10+ books in both urban fantasy and cozy mystery, Kristy has allowed readers to venture into realms where magic lives and murder mingles with humor. She curr
ently lives with her family in the Southeastern United States where she helps other authors when she is not writing her own novels as a freelance writer and editor with eleven years of experience. With many projects in the works, there are sure to be more worlds for courageous adventurers to delve into. Please follow Kristy on social media to keep up with what is coming next!
Facebook: @authorkristyecarter
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