Page 30 of Knotted Laces

Where he’s staying is barely ten minutes down the road.

Good.

“Afteryou’ve read him the riot act for worrying Martha.” His voice hardens. “She’s barely slept the last few days and was actually looking up flights when I came over.”

I narrow my eyes.

Making his lovely, sweet mother lose sleep. Yeah, that’s not okay.

Riot act first.

Texting Lex second.

“Damn fucking right I will,” I say and hang up.

Then pull backonto the road.

And as I drive, I already start planning the lecture I’ll be giving Cam Jackson.

His car is parkedin front of the isolated cabin, taking up most of the space, but I manage to squeeze my little sedan onto the other side of the narrow bridge that spans the rapidly flowing river.

No smooth streams here.

It’s all white, frothy water splitting over rocks and tree limbs as it flies rapidly downstream, the runoff from the snow melt intensely fast.

But I make it over the bridge that looks like it won’t support a tricycle, cram my car next to Cam’s, and shut off the engine.

A gust of wind tugs at my hair as I pop open my door and get out, sending a strand forward, a curl jabbing at my eye. “Ugh,” I grunt, wrestling it away as I snag my purse and lock up. The likelihood of anyone stealing it or my car are slim.

But slim isn’t zero, so one can’t be too careful.

And…

That’s enough delaying, I know, as I move up to the cabin’s front door.

You’re beautiful.

The reason I didn’t go back to check on him.

I was feeling too much. Thinking about him too much.

And now….adding guilt to that mix.

I saw the video, knew he was upset, and I hadn’t bothered to circle back?—

No.

I’davoidedit.

Even though the Jacksons had treated me like…

Family.

And just because I was uncomfortable and weak and scared, I’d?—

“Enough,” I whisper, shoving the past down with ruthless authority.

The problem is that Cam had said those words once before.

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