“Real mature,” I said, watching Ben untie the horse.
“Marcia and I weren’t kissing that day. I was being her friend. She needed one. Her father was in the ICU. You’re the one who gave up on us. I called you, several times, and you never called back.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes. I. Did. Ask Johnathan. I left the messages with him.”
“You left the message with my brother and expected him to tell me? You can’t be serious.”
“When you didn’t call me back, I came to your house.”
“I don’t remember that,” I argued, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You wouldn’t. You weren’t there. Johnathan told me you were on a date.”
My mouth briefly parted before I snapped it closed. “And you believed him?” I tossed my arms in the air and turned to walk back to the hill. Lowering my head, I clenched my eyes closed. Anger stirred in my gut. Anger with Ben. Anger with my brother. Anger with myself for being too stubborn to entertain the idea that there could have been a plausible reason.
“You should have asked me if I’d gone on a date,” I said.
“And you should have trusted me,” he said.
He was right. I should have. I was just as guilty as he was for not being smart or brave enough to ask the questions. I turned to find Ben sitting on King with his hand held out. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
The ride back to the sheriff’s house wasn’t half as enjoyable as the ride to the cliffs. I was acutely aware of the man I was hanging on to as my mind tried to process what he’d said. All this time, and we’d both been too immature to realize a simple conversation might have changed everything.
When we neared the house, Ben yanked King to a stop. “Oh no.”
I tried to look around his broad shoulders but wasn’t willing to fall off, so I couldn’t see a thing.
“Hang on.” He grabbed hold of my clenched hands and kicked King into a fast run, not stopping until we reached Malcolm's back porch.
Ben hurried me off before he jumped down and handed me the reins. In an instant, Ben bounded the steps, and that was when I got my first glimpse at the reason for Ben’s urgency: Malcolm lay face down on the wooden deck.
“He’s not breathing,” Ben yelled, rolling his grandfather over.
I reached for my pocket, only to realize I didn’t have my cell to call 911. It was still in Ben’s car. I tied up King to a post and hurried to his side. “Go inside and call 911.”
I started chest compressions, counting out loud and only stopping to administer breaths in between. I didn’t stop until the paramedics arrived and ushered me out the way.
I moved to Ben’s side and slid my fingers through his. “He’s going to make it. He’s stubborn like that. All you Michaels men are.”
If Ben heard my words, he didn’t acknowledge. He took the keys from his pocket and handed them to me. “You can take my car home. I’m going in the ambulance.”
I stood helplessly, watching as the ambulance doors closed. Running a reassuring hand down King’s mane, I untied him and led him back in the barn. “He’s going to make it. I know he is.”
I hoped.
