We climb the wide steps to the porch, now crowded with Linden’s family all rushing to wish Greta a happy birthday. In the throng of people and noise, Linden keeps his hand on my lower back, introducing me to his other brothers Sepp and his partner Hudson, and his youngest brother, Cam. When I meet Everett’s fiancée Vivian, she pulls me into a hug that smells like honey and strawberries, then introduces me to her son Mateo who hands me a fistful of wildflowers. “These are for you,” he says proudly. “Because flowers are always nice.” Everett puts hishand on his shoulder, and the two of them share a smile that could melt the polar ice caps.
“Have you met my son, Logan?” Everett asks, nodding at a tall boy with his dad’s serious brown eyes and dark hair, deep in conversation with Greta. At hearing his name, the boy flashes me a wave and a reserved smile.
“This is Edie,” Linden says just as a woman with light brown hair gives me a welcoming smile.
“I feel like we should hug,” Edie says.
Laughing, we embrace, then she steps back so Linden can introduce me to his parents.
“Meg, this is my mom, June.” The woman slides both of her hands into mine and squeezes. Her hands are weathered, but strong and warm. “So great to meet you, Meg.”
“And my dad, Nelson,” Linden adds.
Nelson and I shake hands. His is thick with callouses but no less warm. “Welcome. We’re glad you’re here.”
Linden and his dad lock eyes for one powerful, intense moment, and then Linden closes the distance. Nelson drapes his arm across his oldest son’s shoulders and closes his eyes. The hug lasts only a few seconds, but both men come away misty-eyed and grinning.
“Who wants to help me serve up watermelon?” June calls, spinning for the kitchen while the three grandkids trail her in a chorus of “Me! Me! Me!”
Before dinner, Linden gives me a quick tour of his childhood home. The hallways are a treasure trove of family history. Pictures of each child through the ages, their framed artwork, family portraits, ranch life. In the earliest picture of Linden, I barely recognize him. His face is thin and faint freckles dot his nose. His eyes captivate me—they’re that same intense brown flecked with yellow gold.
“You were a pretty serious kid, huh?” I ask, leaning in tostudy it.
“Underneath it, I was probably more scared than serious.” He gives me a half smile. “That was taken after we’d been with Mom and Dad for six months, and I was scared to fuck it up. Especially for Everett. He was only five. I wanted him to have a good home to grow up in.”
“You held that all inside, didn’t you?” A clot of emotion sticks to my throat. “All that fear.”
“I would have done anything to keep us from going back to….” He huffs a soft sigh.
I reach for his hand. “This is about that cult, isn’t it?” Wincing, I cradle his hand against my heart. “Forgive me. I said I’d never bring it up. I don’t need to know.”
He brushes his thumb across my knuckles, then gazes into my eyes. “It’s okay.”
I step closer and rest my hands on his waist, telling him with my touch that he’s safe with me. That he doesn’t have to fear my rejection.
Linden presses a soft kiss to my lips, then tucks my hair behind my ears. “I figured out that our parents had joined Sons of Eden. We’d only been at the compound for a few weeks. But I saw enough to know that Everett and I needed to escape.”
“Sounds terrifying. You were so young.”
He gazes at the pictures for a moment. “What matters is we made it out.”
“Did you…start a fire?”
His eyes flash with surprise. “God no.” He laughs and shuffles his feet, and then he kisses my forehead. “I got Everett to hide in a safe place, and then I ran to the fire department in town. It was the middle of the night, but there was a pair of firefighters down in the truck bay, returning from a call. I asked them for help, and they listened.”
I would never judge him for doing what was necessary tosurvive, but I’m relieved it didn’t come to arson. “Firefighters are special heroes to you, then.”
“Yeah.” He strokes to the base of my neck and rubs gently with his thumb. “I got into plenty of trouble growing up. There was a time when I was either starting a fight or finishing one.” He chuckles. “Let’s just say I’m no stranger to community service.”
“Have you ever been back to that fire station?” I say as the pieces fall into place.
“Yep.” He slips his wallet from his back pocket and thumbs out a worn picture of a younger Linden standing next to a man with thick gray hair at the back of a fire engine. Both in dark blue t-shirts with their respective battalion logos on the front. They’re not hugging, but their smiles are bright and sincere.
I gaze up at him while my heart swells with a tender warmth. He didn’t have to share this. I would have understood. But he invited me in. Offered this very fragile part of himself. To me.
“How long did it take to believe that June and Nelson would love you no matter what?” I ask.
He tucks his wallet away and draws me to his chest, locking his hands at my low back to keep me close. “When I quit fighting, maybe.”
