Page 64 of Son of a Preacher Man

Truth.

“Linnea likes you.” Strumming her skin, he kissed her lips. “I know my sister, and if I’m happy, then she’ll be happy.”

“And Dillon?”

That was a tough one.

Resignedly, Kodiak sighed. “He’s like a brother to me, Snicks, so I hope one day you guys can kiss and make up.”

Wrinkling up her nose, Kelly made a face.

Guess not.

He sniggered. “Set aside your differences, at least? I’d like for the two of you to be friends. If not, next Thanksgiving’s going to be all sorts of interesting.”

“I can try.”

“That’s all I ask.” Kissing her on the forehead, Kodiak covered Kelly with a throw. “I got Linnea one of those jogger strollers for her birthday so she can take the baby and run with me. Be good for her to get out of the house, you know?”

“She’s so lucky to have a brother like you.”

Now perhaps, but she sure wasn’t then.

Of course, Linnea didn’t know her Seth was, in reality, the big brother she always wished for. And Kodiak had no idea she was his father’s daughter. Though, looking back, maybe he should have.

He remembered that day, the day he made promises to a God that didn’t exist, as clearly and as vividly as if it happened only yesterday. Linnea’s sixth birthday. Nineteen years ago, tomorrow. He could still smell the beeswax of candles burning on the altar. The Murphy’s oil soap used to shine the pews. And her.

Sweet and innocent, in a pretty white dress, she smelled of baby shampoo. Beaming up at him, Linnea put her little hand in his, Jarrid pontificating to his congregation how God spoke through him. He declared them betrothed. Her six-year-old self probably thought it was all for her birthday.

And twelve years later, the day she turned eighteen, the deed, and their further descent into Hell, was done. Married by double proxy, though unbeknownst to him, he became his sister’s husband, and she his lawful wife.

Once the marriage had taken place, and the license filed, his father called him with the news. His chest bursting with emotions Kodiak couldn’t describe, the heavy weight he’d been carrying lifted from his shoulders, and the dark cloud he’d been living under vanished. Through it all, Linnea, the only good, pure thing he’d ever known, had become his lifeline by then.

Despite his past transgressions, after years of waiting and countless letters, she was really, truly his. He wished he could call her, but Catherine wouldn’t allow a phone in her house. Soon, though, he’d be able to go and get her out of there. God’s promise. At last, he could keep his. And at that moment, everything he’d gone through beforehand became worth it. Because he had her to protect and to love.

That’s what he believed at the time anyway.

While Kodiak was certain his father never intended for them to learn of it, his greatest sin was still to come. The darkness hadn’t left. It was right there, hovering over his head, he just didn’t know it yet.

“Let’s go, Linnea.” Leaning down into the stroller, Kodiak tucked the blankets in tight. “You’re ready, aren’t you, Charlotte?”

“Jeez, I told you I’m coming.” Pulling her hair back, she ambled down the stairs in the running gear he’d gotten for her, from the beanie on her head to her new Brooks shoes.

He’d be lying if he denied being just a little bit nervous. And oddly enough, guilty. Linnea had been the only woman in his life for so long—the only woman ever, actually—that introducing her to Kelly as the woman he was in love with almost felt as if he were betraying her in some weird, fucked up kind of way.

In his head, Kodiak knew that he wasn’t.

But that jagged hole in his battered heart didn’t seem to agree.

If there was anything he was good at, it was compartmentalizing things. A coping mechanism, as Babs explained, that had allowed him to function, enabled his ability to survive. His brain put Kelly in one box, and his sister in another. And right now, as much as Kodiak wanted to, needed to, the thought of integrating them felt rather awkward. Uncomfortable. By doing so, he would cut the only remaining thread of a fragile cord that never should have been woven in the first place.

They walked at first, only increasing the pace to a light jog when they reached the park trail. “How’s it feel?”

“Like I’m starting over, but it feels good.”

“We’ll take it nice and easy for a while.” Tapping her shoulder, he ran a few steps ahead, glancing behind him. “You’ll get back on track in no time.”

“Easy for you to say,” she shot back, sounding a bit winded. “Look at me, I’m already breaking a sweat here.”

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