He frowned, probably annoyed by the term stalker. “Charlie, I’ve known you since you weren’t more than five years old. Whatever happened in the past doesn’t matter; I still care about you and I wasn’t going to let you go wandering through the woods crying and alone without making sure you were okay.”
Her eyes narrowed and she took a deep breath. She didn’t want to lose control and scream at him. Well, she did, but she wasn’t going to. “It’s none of your business, but as you can see, I’mnotcrying and I’m fine with being alone. I specifically came out here to be by myself.”
“Funny, I thought maybe you came here to avoid going home to an empty house,” he commented. His tone was empty of emotion, but she couldn’t help noticing that there was a pinched look around his mouth showing his frustration with her. Well, she wasn’t exactly thrilled with him either.
“Fine, you stay; I’ll go,” she said. She could have escaped through the branches on any side, but it would have looked awkward as hell trying not to get her hair caught as she pushed through. With no other sensible choice, she decided to go through the one open arch in the canopy that they’d always used as their ‘doorway.’ Unfortunately, that’s where he was standing, blocking her way.
She wasn’t going to let that stop her, but as she brushed past him he caught her arm and held her back with a gentle grip. “Charlie, I’m not trying to push you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay; now that I know you are, I’ll go.”
That was exactly what she wanted, but she couldn’t help feeling like he was patronizing her with the offer, trying to be kind and generous to his poor overly emotional ex. She snorted, “No thanks. I’m going.” She pulled away and he let her go without a fight.
She could feel his eyes on her as she headed across the clearing with long, angry strides that ate up the distance and took her out of sight before he could protest. She was tempted to look back but didn’t. It would have ruined the dramatic effect, and she felt she deserved at least a little drama with everything going on in her life.
By the time she got to her car the light had changed; on the horizon, massive dark clouds were rolling in. The wind was already picking up bringing with it a scent of rain in the air. She hoped it would pour. They needed some rain to break the heat, and the overcast sky suited her dark mood perfectly.
She was just pulling up in front of the house when the first scattered raindrops began to fall, landing with loud splatting sounds on her windshield as she sat there and tried to get up the energy to go in.
It felt so empty inside without her father’s presence. Jimmy had always had a larger than life personality that overwhelmed any room he was in—now the house felt achingly empty. As angry as she was about what he’d done to her, there was still that underlying grief that made it hard to be there without him.
She pulled the envelopes the lawyer had given her out of her pocket and smoothed them out against the steering wheel. She set the death certificates aside; she’d need them for the paperwork, but she didn’t need to face that right now. The letter from her father on the other hand she should probably open.
As the minutes ticked by, she continued to examine the still-sealed envelope. She turned it over and ran her finger along the seam, but couldn’t quite make herself tear it open. Finally, she pushed it back into her pocket out of sight. Another time, when she was feeling better, she’d see what he had to say to her, but not now.
She couldn’t sit out in the car forever, tempting as it was, but it was peaceful there, watching the tracks of water running down the glass. She briefly debated dropping the seat back and staying out there to enjoy the sound of rain, but a loud crack of thunder in the distance changed her mind.
She caught her breath as her heart thumped hard in her chest. “Shit!” she snapped as she jumped out of the car and ran for the house. Somehow it would feel safer under a solid roof, though in the end she knew it wouldn’t matter. Thunderstorms had terrified her ever since she was a child.
She couldn’t count the number of times her father had rushed in to hold her while she panicked and clung during the loudest part of a storm. Later it had been Sam who’d held her and kept her safe from the violent crashing in the sky.
Now she was alone.
She rushed to her room and slammed the door, as if somehow her childhood bedroom would protect her. It was going to be bad. She’d forgotten how bad the storms could be around the old farmhouse. She could already smell the ozone building in the air, and she trembled like a wild animal caught in a trap.
She snatched up her old stuffed bunny, Mister Hop, and dived into bed shaking with fear as she prepared to wait it out by herself. She’d never been through a storm alone at home before and her stress levels were rising, close to setting off her panic disorder.
She didn’t react to storms so badly at school. There it had been easier to block out thunder. Earbuds and music could drown out the sound and with her curtains closed she didn’t see the lightning. Safe in her building full of people she could pretend it wasn’t happening.
It wasn’t possible to do that on the ranch. The storms were always more intense there. At times the thunder was so loud that the whole house would shake in response and even cranking up the music couldn’t make that go away, but it had been years since she’d reacted this badly. She figured it was the absence of her dad that did it.
Knowing that didn’t make it any easier; if anything, it made it worse. She ended up cowering under the blankets with her stuffed toy as she tried the old counting game he’d taught her to help the storm pass easier. A flash of lightning momentarily lit the room and she counted slowly until she heard the thunder crash.
It was supposed to tell her how far away the storm was and give her something to concentrate on, but without him to count with her it didn’t work as a calming technique. She started to panic as the storm got closer and there was less time between each loud crash. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore; it was just too much and when the next boom came, she was up and running out the door.
Chapter 3
Panting and out of breath, she banged on the front door of the small house with both fists. “Sam! Sam, please let me in!” Her voice was high pitched and panicky, but all she cared about was getting inside before the next flash of lightning lit the sky. She knew he was back because his car was right there, but somehow she was still terrified he might not answer.
Her clothes were plastered to her body, soaked from the downpour that showed no sign of letting up any time soon. The door flew open so fast, she stumbled forward and crashed into his body.
“What the hell! Charlie, is that you? You look like a drowned cat!” He stared at her in shock, and she could imagine, after their run-in earlier, she was thelastperson he expected to see on his doorstep.
But there was no one else to run to, and he’d always been there for her before.
“I…I’m sorry. Th…the…st…storm,” she stammered. Her teeth were chattering, partly from fear and partly from being chilled by the sudden drop of temperature that had come with the summer storm.
A look of understanding crossed his face and he moved quickly, pulling her inside and slamming the door without another word. Instead of questioning her about what was going on, he took her straight to the bathroom where he started the shower running hot.
“Strip out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia.” It was an order, but a gentle one. He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed; he just assumed she would and busied himself grabbing a couple large bath towels from the shelf.
