Page 105 of Keeping Kaitlyn

KAITLYN

My mother lefta light on in the living room, the soft amber glow of it spilling across the porch as we pull up in front of Northpoint. Neither of us said much on the drive home, each of us lost in our own thoughts, the run-in with Brock souring the mood.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, turning to look at him across the dark interior of the car. “I shouldn’t have?—”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Sunshine.” Reaching for my hand, Went lifts it to his mouth. Pressing his lips against the back of it, he shakes his head. “You were right. Wrong place, wrong time.” Giving my hand a squeeze, he lets it go. “I’m going to take your meathead dog for a walk and bring the groceries in.”

“And what am I going to do?” I ask, relieved because the strange tension left over from his confrontation with Brock is gone.

“You’re going to go upstairs and take a shower, get in bed and get some sleep.” Opening his door, Went gets out of the truck and circles around to open mine.

“Am I?” I ask while he helps me out of my seat. “What if I don’t want to?”

Hands around my waist, Went gives me a smile. “I’d ask if you always get what you want?”

“Yes, I do.” Pushing myself up onto my toes, I press my lips against the underside of his jaw. “Promise me you’re not going to sneak off back to town while I’m in the shower,” I say. “Brock isn’t going to do much more than run his mouth. Not until I make up my mine about what to do about this place—he’s got too much to lose.”

Mouth flattening into a grim smile, Went nods while he reaches over to open the door to let Mook out of the truck. “That’s what your mom said.”

“We Barrett women are smart,” I tell him. “You should listen to us.” Covering his hand with mine, I squeeze it. “Promise me.”

“Okay.” Leaning down to drop a kiss on top of my head, he opens Mooks door and he hops out of the truck to make a beeline for the tree on the other side of the driveway. “I promise I’ll stay put.”

“Thank you.” Pulling my backpack from the floor of the truck, I head into the house, pushing the front door open on a tired sigh. It looks exactly how I left it, as if the last six years had never happened and I suddenly wish that that were true.

Leaving the front door open, I listen to Mook’s happy barks while I make my way upstairs and down the hall to the master suite at the end of it. Opening the door, I flip on the light and toss my backpack on the bed.

Twenty minutes later, I’m showered and dressed for bed. Not wanting to go to bed alone, I pad down the hall to look over the banister and into the living room. Went’s sitting on the couch, every light in the house on, his large, leather portfolio open, sketch pads and pencils strewn across the coffee table. Mook,who’s lying on the kitchen floor spots me and jumps up, stumpy tail wagging while he streaks up the stairs to join me.

“Looks like it’s you and me,” I whisper to him while I lead him down the hall. Turning off the light, I cross the dark bedroom to pull back the covers and climb into bed, Mook jumping up to join me a few seconds later. Burrowing into the fresh sheets my mother must’ve put on the bed and close my eyes, sure I’ll do nothing more than lie here until morning while my dog sleeps quietly beside me.

I wake up with a start,the room still dark. my dog still sleeping beside me. Went nowhere to be found. Checking the clock on my phone, I see that it’s almost five o’clock in the morning.

Worried, I get out of bed and ease the door open, closing it behind me so Mook doesn’t wake up. When I get downstairs, every light in the house is still on and Went is asleep on the couch, just like he was that first morning I found him, chest bare. Fingers stained shiny and black by the pencils he uses to draw with. Looking at the sketch book, open on the coffee table, I feel my breath catch in my throat when I see the half-finished drawing in front of me. Like the rest of them, it’s of me. In this one, I’m sitting on the dock, by myself, gaze aimed out across the water, hair blowing in an invisible breeze. Heart in my throat, I ease myself away from it, being careful not to wake him while I cross the room to the front door. Dropping his old, hooded sweatshirt over my head, I shove my feet into an old pair of boots before opening the front door.

Walking down the porch steps and across the driveway, I make my way down the steep set of flagstone steps dug into theside of the slope that leads to the water, not stopping until I get to the end of the dock.

“Luke,” I whisper quietly, closing my eyes while I listen for him. “Please talk to me, I need—” Faltering, I feel my throat tighten, my vision going blurry with tears.

Hey, Kaity…

“You’re here.” Shoulders slumping with relief, I shake my head. “I thought you were mad at me for leaving.”

Why would I be mad about that? Getting away from here and having a life is all I ever wanted for you.

Nodding my head on a shuddering sigh, I look out across the water. “The ranch was yours before—”you died. The words catch in my throat and I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the pain of them. “Please tell me what you want me to do. I don’t know?—”

The ranch was always going to be yours, Kaity. You don’t need me to tell you what to do. You already know.

He’s right. I do.

Nodding my head, I can feel him slipping away from me. The voice in my head growing fainter with every passing second.

“I almost went after you that morning,” I tell him quietly, desperate to get the words out because I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to say them again. “I almost stopped you, but I didn’t. I fell back to sleep. I was selfish and I fell asleep while you were?—”

You weren’t selfish, Kaity—you were tired. Nothing you could’ve done would have changed what happened because we are both exactly where we’re supposed to be.

He’s right. I know that too.

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