Page 140 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
I nuzzle her neck. “Have you?”
It takes her a few seconds to answer. “No. I just keep staring at the river, wondering why I would’ve jumped into it.”
“Maybe you were trying to get across it and got swept away in the rapids.”
She shakes her head, threading her fingers with mine across her stomach. “That doesn’t seem right to me.” A little frustrated noise comes from her throat. “I can’t remember, but I know that’s not what happened. I can’t explain it.”
Her struggle slices at my chest, her pain a living and breathing thing I wish I could hunt down and eviscerate with my axe.
“You don’t have to, Honeybee. You don’t owe me any explanations for anything you feel. Maybe you were pushed in.”
She tilts her head slightly, considering it. “Maybe. But if he went through all the trouble to keep me up here for a year, why would he then push me into the river in a way that would probably kill me?”
It would have, if I hadn’t randomly been up here because of Liam that day.
I will never complain about him dragging us out in the early mornings on his hunts for the perfect tree specimens ever again.
“That doesn’t seem right, either, Honeybee?”
A hard sigh falls from her parted lips, and she leans back against my chest heavily, giving me all her weight. “Something is just drawing me toward it, the water…”
“Then let’s get in.”
The words come out before I really have much of a chance to consider the suggestion. Pros. Cons. How she might react…
She glances back at me. “What?”
I scan the small pool in front of us. “Let’s get in the water.”
“Killian, it’s cold.”
“Not that cold, and we won’t stay in long. Just a quick dip.”
A little laugh falls from her lips. “It’s like 2:00 in the morning.”
I grin at her, her laughter signaling that maybe I’m on the right track. “Which means no one else is out here.”
And if I don’t do something to drag her out of her own head, she won’t get any sleep tonight, and that will spell disaster for what we need to accomplish tomorrow.
Even as a child, Willow struggled to separate herself mentally from the emotional trauma she was experiencing at home. She found a safe place with us, a refuge from the uncertainty, but getting her to relax, to allow herself space to just be, was harder.
Somehow, I became that for her. I discovered ways to break the cycle that would inevitably end with more pain for her. And that’s what I have to do now.
Stepping back from her, I grasp the hem of my T-shirt, tugging it up and off, and letting it fall to the ground. I reach for the waistband of my pants.
Her eyes widen. “You’re serious.”
I nod, popping the button. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Considering what happened the last time either of us was in these waters, I understand why some trepidation may linger, but just like the memories that stay hidden in her head, the ones she so desperately wants to confront to find the truth, she needs to confront this river.
With me holding her steady, she can do that without fear of drifting away in the water or her own mind.
Hopefully.
She turns and looks at the pool again, her lips twisting as she considers what might be a really stupid idea on my part.
This could backfire—big time.
