Page 59 of When I Fall In Love

My blood turns to ice. “What’s wrong?”

“Dad.” She blinks and bites her lip to contain her tears. “Dad’s had a heart attack.”

“What?” That same horrible feeling I’ve had once before, when I learned Mom and Dad had died in a car crash, floods back into my veins, cold and piercing like a thousand knives.

“He’s going to be okay,” she manages between two sobs. “They say he’s going to be okay.” Her gaze jumps over my shoulder to where Beth is sidling up, cautious.

“When?” I say, panic making me curt. Already I’m feeling for my car keys.

“He didn’t feel well during milking this morning, with chest pains and shortness of breath. Raiden knew the signs and phoned 911. The paramedics got there in time.” Her lip quivers, tears still rolling. “Ethan drove to New York to see some friends but he’s already on his way back. Liam is stuck for now. He’s working on a way to get back to the US.” She wipes at her cheeks and pulls a sodden tissue from her pocket to wipe at her nose. “Lucy is looking at flights to fly out as soon as possible. Between Derek and Raiden, they’ll sort the milking out this afternoon, but Mom… Mom needs you there. At the hospital. And Dad—” She breaks off in a sob and I pull her close, seeking comfort too. “Dad has been asking for you.”

This almost breaks me and I’m close to tears. Here I am the last to know about Bill’s heart attack because nobody could get hold of me. Just like summer camp, where I was out canoe camping with a bunch of other boys. They had to find our group on the lake in the backwaters of Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario. Literally had to row the news in. I was the last to learn about the accident. Something about being the last to know still hits me hard to this day. “Where is he?”

“After they stabilized him they rushed him to Montpelier.”

“Okay, good.” I’m shaking with the news, my fingers trembling as I push her to arm’s length.

Rachel’s gaze jumps over my shoulder. “Beth,” she says, then shakes her head, still quivering with emotion. “Freaking hell, Hunter!” Rachel’s gaze jumps between me and Beth and she groans. “I even called Brenda Whitnell because we all know she’s involved with selling Collingwood Farm to check if she might know where you were.” She wipes at her nose with the back of her hand as her eyes flash with panicked anger that finally surfaces. “That’s when I really started freaking out. God. To hear that Brenda has been trying to get hold of Beth the whole weekend too and her phone only goes over to voice message. Your brother Kyle has been trying to get hold of you as well! Goddammit, you two. Then I hear in passing that someone’s picked up Hunter’s paddleboard on the other side of the fucking lake! This all came out this past hour. I thought you drowned. Or were in a car accident. For fuck’s sake! You can’t do that, Hunter!” She shudders and drags in a sharp breath. “You know what we’ve been through.”

Her words hit me hard, punches right to the stomach. “Rachel.” I reach for her but she shrugs me off. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ve got to go,” she says. “There’s no time—”

“Yes-yes.” I feel for my car keys again but they’re on the kitchen counter. I palm them and reach for my jacket. “I’m going to go—” Beth has shrunk into the background but now I turn to her. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later?”

She blinks and shrugs. “Yes, sure. Later.”

For a moment it’s awkward between us, but then Rachel’s hand is on my arm. “Let’s go.”

“Beth—”

I want to pull Beth to me, to hug her, but something stretches the distance between us, something that makes it impossible to close the gap and have her in my arms. Rachel tugs at my forearm and I’m being swept up in a verbal download of new details on how Raiden knew just what to do because another contractor had the same symptoms on a building site earlier this year.

Ten minutes into my drive to Montpelier, following Rachel as she drives like a hellion, I get the ominous feeling that I’ve messed up. Badly. I can’t put my finger on it, not now with Bill and everything that has passed making the thoughts swarm in my head.

But I’ve fucked up, that much I know, and it will come to me at some point when it’s probably days too late to fix it.

30

BETH

Hunter left me standing in the middle of his vast open-plan mansion. I watched as Rachel reversed out of her bad parking spot and set off with Hunter behind her, following the taillights of Hunter’s truck until they disappeared along the tree-lined driveway.

Now, cold seeps into my body again, leaving my breathing shallow and pushing tears up my throat. God. Did that all really happen? Bill could have died today. He still might. For all that I know, he isn’t out of danger yet. They’ll most probably keep him in hospital for a couple of days to make sure whatever caused the heart attack gets treated. I’m not sure how any of that works but without a doubt this is only the start of Bill’s journey.

But that’s not the only tear-trigger. I feel stripped of warmth and love because Hunter didn’t for one second think of asking me to come along and see Bill. It’s so insignificant, and yet, it speaks louder than a thousand words.

I burst into tears. They just keep on coming. It’s a flood of loss that’s been building up in me for years now, packed tighter and compounded by Mom’s illness and death. I can hardly breathe because my heart literally aches for what I know the Brodie kids will be going through right now. For what I’ve been through.

I stumble blindly onto Hunter’s deck and shut the glass door behind me. His house isn’t locked, but nothing would happen here. I’ve only been here less than a week but this part of the world is just as sleepy and safe as it’s always been.

My feet are slow to drag me back to my own cottage but once inside, I search for my phone as I wipe at my eyes. When I arrived earlier, I didn’t even think to check it. I merely placed my car keys where I could find them later and went to the bathroom. My phone was the last thing on my mind.

Over the weekend, Hunter and I slipped into a time that could hardly exist today. Just like we were as teenagers—no phones, no plans, just him and me meeting each other always halfway. In those days, we spent all our free time together, so we didn’t need to check in with each other all the time.

My phone is right where I left it on my bed on Friday afternoon, now with a flat battery. I plug it into the charger and go the kitchen to start the coffee machine. I stare out at the lake for a good ten minutes, trying to get control of my breathing again. It’s shock from the sudden turn of events. I’d hoped to spend one last night with Hunter and to ask what he wanted going forward. Was this week just a quick catch-up for him? A few steamy days to iron out the wrinkles of our past before we take this relationship once and for all to the thrift store and wave goodbye to it? I don’t know.

It’s all been too much in such a short time. I can’t get my head around any of it.

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