Page 19 of A Curse On Black Lake
Of all people, I trust my grandmother. She said I had a purpose here, so she would want me to stay.
And so I will. I’ll stay for her. I will continue her legacy, ourfamily’slegacy of Greer Apothecary, for as long as I can. She deserves that much. They all do.
I release a long breath and close my eyes.
It would seem I have no choice but to find the man from my dream and help him, so he can help me. Whatever the hell that means.
Unknown
My pretty flower.
So beautiful under this moonlit hour.
I’ve missed you so, but you’re not ready yet.
For you will only see me as a threat.
But when the time comes, you will know.
And only then will our love flourish and grow.
Chapter nine
Killian
I’moutoffeedfor the dogs and horses. So I’m forced to go to Livingston’s Hardware and Feed, and endure the nervous looks, and withering stares. It would appear this is a trial by opinion and I’m already guilty.
Pushing through the door, Mrs. Harding sees me and her eyes widen before she turns the corner of the aisle. With my flatbed rolling behind me, I go to the feed aisle and get enough for a few months. I don’t want to be here if I don’t have to be.
When I’m done stacking my bags of food, I pull the flatbed toward the registers. Mrs. Boudroue and her daughter spin on their heel avoiding the lane I was headed to. I try to ignore the disappointment in my gut. It was only a few years ago I retired from being a Captain.
I dedicated my life to protecting the people of Black Lake. But even small towns have short memories. I’m no doormat, but I wouldn’t hurt anyone, let alone a woman and her child. I would kill myself before I did something like that. Now they look at me as if I am the very evil I did everything I could to protect them from, mistakes and all.
The frustration turns to anger in my chest. I need to get out of here. When the people in front of me are done, old man Winters counts my bags, and enters the price. He doesn’t ask me questions. He doesn’t smile. Fine with me.
I pay in cash and leave, almost desperate to get away.
On my way out of town, I drive past Cricket’s and turn left. As I turn the truck, I spot a bicycle in the ditch off to the side. Worried that it could be a kid, I throw the truck into park and hop out to check.
Jogging to the ditch, my heart almost stops as I stare at a woman lying in the ditch, unmoving. Ignoring the additional repercussions of finding another woman dead or in trouble, I slide down into the ditch. Slipping my fingers over her pulse, I feel it beat strongly, which means she might have been knocked out.
“Ma’am,” I say, shaking her shoulder.
She doesn’t open her eyes and I don’t have my damn phone with me. I look at her arms and legs and nothing appears broken, but she clearly hit her head hard enough to knock her out.
“Ma’am?” I call again and shake her shoulders gently.
Her eyes finally open and they widen on me. I take a step back, trying not to scare her. She sits up and I quickly stoop down to help her. She holds my arm tightly, surprising me.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, despite the obvious. “Do I need to take you to the doctor?”
“So many questions,” she mutters.
“Do you know what day it is?” I ask her.
“Wednesday.”
“Do you know your name?”
