Page 54 of Someone to Hold
“Are you sure that’s what happened? You were both so young. Maybe?—”
“I remember,” she says firmly. “He told a group of rafters Luke got dropped on his head, and he wasn’t joking.” She swallows hard. “I loved Daddy, but he wasn’t very nice sometimes.”
I pull her back into my arms. “Of course you love him. He was your dad. He wasn’t perfect, but he loved youandyour brother.”
She leans her head on my shoulder. “He loved you too, Mommy.”
That nearly shatters me. Because if Teddy were alive right now, I’d want to kill him myself. How could he have acted that way about his own son?
Laurel returns to her homework, humming softly under her breath. I swear, I can tell that something has lifted off her shoulders, the invisible weight she’s been carrying transferred to me. I’ll take that burden from her every day, even though I have no idea how to fix the damage my late husband has caused by his callousness.
I finally pull myself together enough to go looking for my son. Sometimes Luke likes to dig in the dirt behind the greenhouse, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I glance at Chase’s trailer, wondering if he’s gone to visit Princess. The grumpy cat who hisses at me every chance she gets has taken a shine to my son, contentedly purring every time he curls up next to her on the small sofa.
Despite everything with Chase—the mess of our past—I’m grateful he’s here. Not just because he seems to really see Luke, but when the weight of everything threatens to crush me, his presence makes it feel a little more bearable. As if having Chase close means I don’t have to hold it all alone.
A soft whinny draws my attention to the barn. The doors are wide open, and the air still holds the warm kiss of late spring, even as the sun slips behind the Flatirons. I stop just before the entrance when I hear Luke’s voice followed by a low, familiar chuckle.
My first instinct is a gut punch of panic, terrified that Chase is laughing at my son the way his dad used to. Suddenly, I’m back in a different life. One where I confused cruelty for teasing and tried to convince myself we were happy.
My feet feel rooted in place as a wave of nausea rises. What if Chase is no different than Teddy? What if I let my guard down and brought another man into Luke’s life who might hurt him?
No. I won’t let that happen again.
17
MOLLY
Heart pounding,I step closer, ready to face whatever I’ve just walked into. But I freeze as my son’s sweet laughter cuts through the dusty air.
“Her mouth tickles.” He giggles again.
“That’s because she doesn’t want to hurt you,” Chase replies, his voice low and easy. “She just wants those carrots in your hand.”
“Why didn’t Daddy keep riding?” Luke asks.
There’s a pause, then Chase says, “That’s a question I don’t know the answer to. Your dad and I grew up trail riding. Your nana kept an old horse here, not good for much but slow rides into the hills. Your dad could have been good at bull riding, roping, barrel racing…anything he put his mind to. He had a way with animals, like you do, but they didn’t give him the adrenaline rush he was looking for.”
I inch forward and pause at the edge of one of the wide doors. Luke is looking up at Chase like the guy hangs the moon and stars. I know the feeling.
“I was with him,” Chase says softly, “the first time he went over a class five rapid. Do you know about class fives?”
Luke nods. “They’re the mostdangerous.”
“Yep. We were young and stupid, and your dad had made friends with this guy who worked on one of the ski mountains but guided rafting trips in the summer out of Buena Vista. He invited us to go with him, and since your grandma was out of town, Teddy borrowed her car. Neither of us even had a license.” Chase chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “We drove down early in the season, after a heavy snow year, so the runoff was wild. We had no business being on that river, and it scared me in a different way than a bull does. But your dad? He was hooked.”
“He fell out of the boat the day he died,” Luke whispers. “On a class five.” His voice drops. “He was out there because of me.”
I feel my lungs lock up, like someone’s cinched them tight. I want to burst in and scream that it wasn’t Luke’s fault. Teddy made his own reckless decision. We’d been fighting about whether to force Luke into another miserable season of rec league soccer. A sport he hated and wasn’t any good at, but Teddy wouldn’t let it go. He was determined to make our son into something he wasn’t.
Still, I don’t move. My knees won’t let me.
“Your dad and I were a lot alike,” Chase says. “Not very good at dealing with our feelings. We found other ways to clear our heads. But your dad wasn’t thinking straight that day he took the raft out in those conditions. That’s not on you.”
My breath catches. I haven’t talked to the kids in detail about Teddy’s accident. I didn’t think they were ready. I didn’t thinkIwas ready. I never imagined Luke might be carrying a weight he was never meant to hold.
“You don’t know.” Luke says the words like an accusation.
“Your dad knew better than to be on that river at that level. He also knew he need to be wearing a life vest and helmet, but he wasn’t that day. Those were his choices, not yours.”
