Page 1 of Safe With You

Chapter One

The dim lights above the bathroom mirror flickered like a scene from a horror film and buzzed in Katie’s ears, but it didn’t drown out the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet—a drip she had lain awake listening to all night. What else could she expect from such a dingy roadside motel?

She leaned close to the mirror, willing her hand to stop shaking long enough to apply her waterproof mascara. Hopefully, it would work as well as advertised, or she would be a freakish mess by the end of the day. Not that it did much to camouflage her bloodshot eyes or the shadows beneath them. Who was she kidding? Waterproof mascara or not, she would soon be a mess anyway. Fresh tears already burned her eyes, and she struggled to breathe through the grief that just kept coming in waves.

Setting the tube aside, she smoothed the front of her simple black dress. The meant-to-be-knee-length skirt was a little long, made for women taller than her five-foot-one, and the bodice didn’t hit her in quite the right places. Typical of dresses she wore right off the thrift store rack. With time, she could have turned it into something unique and lovely, but death didn’t wait for anyone.

A cold sweat prickled her skin, and she had to brace herself against the sink as her stomach convulsed. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing its contents to remain in place. Now that she’d changed, she didn’t want to end up kneeling in front of the toilet again. The nausea subsided, but an intense ache remained. She was not ready to say goodbye to Grandma. Not ready to face the past. Or the future. Not without her.

She counted each drip that splashed into the sink until she reached ten. Then, she blew out an unsteady breath and forced strength into her spine. Grabbing her cosmetic bag, she dug around for her favorite shade of crimson lipstick. It had been Grandma’s favorite too. She’d worn it almost every day when Katie was a kid; no special occasion needed. That was one thing Katie would miss most about her. She’d celebrated every day of her life, even the hard ones. If only Katie could find such unwavering joy.

A whisper of Grandma’s voice echoed in the back of her mind. The joy of the Lord is your strength. Grandma had loved that verse and lived by it until the very end. Katie fought to grasp onto the words, but they slipped from her like crumbling ashes.

“I’m trying, Lord, but I can’t seem to find that joy or strength.”

She stepped out of the bathroom and sank down on the foot of the bed, the springs creaking beneath her. An intense desire to crawl under the faded floral bedspread and stay there for the rest of the day—maybe for the rest of her life—nearly overwhelmed her. But the funeral wouldn’t wait. The viewing had already started, and she should be there. She would have to leave this room eventually.

Instead of giving in, she reached down and slid on the pair of vintage red heels Grandma bought her a few years ago. Though they were far too bright for a funeral, Katie wanted to honor and remember her this way. They’d shared a special love for the color red. It was, after all, Grandma’s namesake—Ruby.

Katie pushed back to her feet and picked up the black shawl lying across the bed. Grandma’s church shawl. She ran her fingers over the elegant silken fabric. For as simply as Grandma had lived, she’d loved the opportunity to dress up on Sundays. Katie wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it close as if it could mimic one of Grandma’s hugs. Sniffing back the burning in her nose, she grabbed her purse and turned for the door. She reached for the knob but hesitated. A dark shadow of what was to come rose up around her throat as if to strangle her. Goodbye was hard enough. Facing the past would be even worse. Her knees trembled, tempting her to huddle in the corner and cry like she had too many times as a child.

Squeezing the knob so hard her fingers went numb, she gulped in a choked breath. She could do this. Had to. She was not a helpless little girl anymore. She’d escaped that.

She yanked the door open before she could talk herself out of it entirely. Fresh air flowed in around her, cutting through the musty, cigarette-tinged odor of the room. Though carrying an early spring chill, it was warmer than usual for the beginning of May in northern Wisconsin. Gray clouds clogged the sky, but the rain had held off so far.

She stepped out and pulled the door shut behind her. As she reached into her purse for her car keys, she glanced toward the rusty pickup parked a couple of doors down. Two scruffy men leaned against the bumper, puffing on cigarettes and holding beer cans even though it was midmorning. Neither one attempted to hide the way they watched her. A shiver traveled up her spine and down her arms.

This rundown motel was undoubtedly one of the sketchier places she’d found herself in, but locating an affordable room anywhere else near Two Lakes had proved impossible. Not only did fishing season open tomorrow, but Pine Lake Lodge was hosting two nights of popular B-list country singers this weekend. Even if one of the nicer hotels opened up, she’d already stretched her finances to the breaking point with the motel. Perhaps it would be better to find a more secure location and sleep in her car for the duration of her stay. It could hardly be worse. She would have to be on alert when she returned to her room later.

Hurrying into her beat-up car, she locked the doors. The men didn’t move from their spot, but their continued perusal left goosebumps on her arms. She forced it out of her mind for now and backed out of her parking space.

Driving north along the highway, she soon caught sight of more reputable businesses and homes. The town stretched ahead of her, tucked right between two lakes, just as the name implied. She glimpsed Pine Lake to the east, the bigger of the two lakes. More commercialized, it had the Lodge and swimming beaches to draw the majority of tourists to the area. Locals and fishermen preferred Fern Lake to the west, as it was quieter, having more private homes and quaint rental cottages. At least, that’s how it had been the first fifteen years of her life.

Pressure built in Katie’s chest as she passed one familiar sight after another. They tugged at her more strongly than she’d expected after so many years, and yet, nowhere but Two Lakes had ever quite felt like home.

A smile arose unbidden as she passed by Main Street. The local ice cream shop, The Ice Shack, still sat on the corner—a familiar relic of the good times in between the bad. Did they still serve the blue moon flavor she had always ordered as a kid? She hadn’t planned on visiting the places of her childhood while in town, but perhaps she would have to stop before she left. Just to see. Just to relive one precious, happy memory that managed to shine through the darkness.

Before she was ready, she pulled into the parking lot of a medium-sized white church. Though it sported new siding and now had a large awning over the front door, it looked much the same as she remembered. Grandma had brought her here every Sunday and Wednesday during her childhood. Oh, how she had loved Sunday school. If only she could recapture the vibrancy of her childhood faith. Life had done everything possible since then to snuff it out completely.

Katie inched her car through the parking lot, looking for a spot, but every one appeared full. No surprise there. Grandma had lived in this town her entire life until four years ago when she was placed in the nursing home in Madison. Based on the number of letters and cards she regularly received, people had adored her. She was the kind of woman who touched people’s lives and left a legacy long remembered.

At last, Katie found an open space at the far edge of the lot and pulled in. She got out and scanned the area as she locked the car. A few people mingled near the front of the church, but a sleek, black BMW snagged her attention. Though other nice cars dotted the lot, this one screamed luxury. And danger. Her lungs shriveled, and the air dropped ten degrees. Though she’d done everything she could to prepare herself for this moment, including a last-minute session with her therapist, all her courage evaporated.

Pain dug into her chest, and each breath required effort. Turning her back on the car, she fled in the opposite direction until the pavement ended, and she stumbled into the grass. But the urge to keep running continued to pulse with every thudding heartbeat. How could she do this?

She pulled Grandma’s shawl more tightly around herself as if it could shield her from what lay beyond the church doors. Tears welled up, and this time, she couldn’t stop them. They rolled in hot streams down her cheeks, and she swiped them with her fingers.

Dropping her hand, she rubbed her right wrist. While only imagined today, the ache deep in her bone did flare up sometimes, especially when she did a lot of hand sewing on one of her upcycled clothing projects. Though she fought to stop it, her mind conjured up the painful sensation of strong fingers digging into her skin.

“Katie?”

She jumped at the inquiring male voice, her heart crashing violently into her ribs. Surely, no one but immediate family would recognize her after all these years, and she had no extended family beyond Grandma. She spun around. A man in a black suit and tie stood a few feet away. After a stuttering heartbeat, her stomach somersaulted recognition.

“Ethan?”

A small smile softened his expression, and its warm familiarity wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

“Long time no see.”

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