Page 41 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
“Did you remember something?” Killian stops in front of me, squatting to my level. His eyes search mine, filled with concern and something else. “Willow…”
“I…it was another fire.” I shake my head. “Not here, but I don’t know where it was…or when…or why it would come to me now.”
Killian reaches out and pulls my hand into his. “It’ll come back.”
And what if it doesn’t?
What if not knowing is my new reality?
“Did you find anything today?”
His jaw tightens, a muscle there ticcing wildly as he stares into my eyes, holding my gaze. “Yes. Part of a trail you must have run down before you got to the river.”
“Trail? From where?”
“We don’t know. It’s an animal trail, nothing humans should have been on, but I found your bare footprints and a scrap of the T-shirt you were in. Tony is going to call to get dogs in from Asheville to try to pick up the scent, figure out where you came from.”
Tears pool in my eyes and begin to trickle down my cheeks. “Why would I have been up there?”
“I don’t know.”
I shake my head, my body trembling as that flicker of flame flashes through my head again, somehow sending an icy chill through me, despite the warmth it should bring to mind.
“Neither do I, and that’s what scares the fuck out of me.”
5
KILLIAN
Lightning sends another vibrant flash through the living room, and thunder cracks immediately after it and close, shaking the cabin and violently rattling the glass in the window frames.
On and on and on…
The storm continues to rage, just as it has for the last several hours since I came home—almost as if the mountain sky is as agitated as I am tonight and can’t settle into any semblance of quiet calm.
Lying in the recliner, I alternate between watching the light show and the fire, the flames crackling and popping, filling the silence save for the sounds of the storm.
It should be peaceful.
But each clap of thunder and flash of light that fill the cabin merely seem to enforce the fact that I won’t be able to find peace again until I figure out what happened to Willow.
With so little to go on, I’m not holding out much hope of getting a restful night’s sleep anytime soon.
How can I when her world has been upended and I can see her spiraling?
How can I when I’m spiraling just as badly?
The bedroom door opening issues a low creak that echoes through the high A-frame cabin ceiling almost as loudly as the following crack of thunder.
I freeze, my right arm tucked beneath my head, and watch the hallway, waiting for her to appear with my heart in my throat.
Having her back here, in this space we once shared, where we planned our future together, without knowing what’s going on in her head, has left me more rattled than I care to admit even to myself.
On edge.
Vibrating with an intense, writhing tension only made worse by how badly I still want this woman I can’t have right now…or maybe ever again.
Willow comes out slowly, her arms wrapped around herself, emphasizing how thin and frail she’s become since I last saw her in this cabin a year ago.
