Page 68 of Break My Fall

Her parents hadn’t pushed her, but she didn’t think they’d fully bought it. Nonetheless, her mother continued to send her links to articles about combating the winter blues, which was why she’d been walking along the river every afternoon for the past couple of weeks. Trying to get some sunshine. Light exposure. Vitamin D. Whatever.

It hadn’t worked.

She caught a whiff of something floral. And there on the bank... the paperbushes had bloomed. The flowers were tiny and delicate and had always been a favorite of hers, both for their scent and their blossoms. She felt a kinship with the hardy bush that had the audacity to bloom in late winter.

She’d never decided if the paperbush was a late bloomer or an early one. Not that it mattered. Either way worked. But she imagined it as a warrior that not only survived the winter but refused to be contained by the cold. It was tough but beautiful, and it showed off delicate blossoms while everything else was still cowering in the soil, not daring to peek out for fear of an early frost.

She gave herself a mental slap. Getting philosophical over a shrub? She needed to get a grip.

If she could snap a decent picture, she might be able to recreate the paperbush blossoms. They’d look lovely in Cassie’s real bouquet. Meredith knelt at the top of the bank, phone in hand. Ugh. The angle was all wrong. She leaned farther over the edge in an attempt to get a better shot.

The soil under her knee gave way, and her body tilted forward in an almost slow-motion crash. The phone fell from her hand, and she stretched her arm to catch it. Her hand and the phone did an aerial dance as she tried to grab it, but the phone slipped away and bounced down the bank with her body following behind.

Unlike the phone, she didn’t bounce. She slid, face first, straight toward the river.

The phone left the bank and entered the river with an ominous kerplunk, and she skidded to a stop a foot from the freezing water.

She lay gasping for air before the image of her phone splashed across her closed eyes. She jumped to her knees and reached for the device. The water was ridiculously cold, and for a split second she wondered if the same thing was true for drowned phones as it was for drowned people. Maybe it wasn’t truly dead until it was warm and dead.

She plucked the phone from its watery landing spot and groaned. Not even Mo would be able to fix it. The screen wasn’t shattered. It was punctured.

She stared at the spiderwebbed screen for a moment. One of her nephews was fascinated with electronics and gadgets. He’d enjoy taking her phone apart. She tossed the phone to the top of the bank and then did a modified bear crawl up the side until she reached the top. When her torso was on level ground, she didn’t bother standing up. She rolled over and lay down, leaving her legs to dangle over the slope.

She’d tried sunlight, fresh air, and movement, and what had it gotten her? A destroyed phone and an even worse mood than she’d started out in. She hadn’t even managed to snag the photo she’d been trying to capture.

“Lord, I give up.” That was the best she could do in the prayer department. She didn’t feel like talking. She stared at the clouds and willed her body to relax. The sun would be setting soon, and the sky was a glorious riot of color. It was quiet here. Peaceful. Safe.

And wasn’t it just about the most annoying thing ever that none of that made her happy? She wanted to be safe. But peaceful? Not so much. She liked excitement. She’d expected her life to have more spice.

Instead, she’d turned into a hobbit. She lived in a tiny house surrounded by family. There was a lot of delicious food, and she could eat second breakfast anytime she wanted. But at thirty-two, she was beginning to give up on the idea that anyone would come along and invite her on an adventure.

She had no idea how long she lay there. She wasn’t praying or consciously thinking about anything. She wasn’t trying to solve all of her problems or come to terms with the drama that had unfolded.

She took deep breaths and tried to be where she was.

“Meredith!”

She opened her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t think she had, but she must have if Gray was yelling at her in her dreams.

“Meredith!”

That had not been a dream. The sheer terror in the voice drove her to a seated position. “Gray?”

The man in question ran toward her. He didn’t walk. He didn’t stalk. He was in a full-on sprint. When he reached her, he dropped to his knees beside her. His hands touched her shoulders. Her arms. Her hair. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“What?” She’d been so relaxed. And now Gray was yelling and examining her the way she’d seen her papa check out a cow that he was worried about.

Gray spoke between gasps. “Got ... a call ... Mo said ... you fell.”

And just like that, it all became crystal clear. She would have to kill Mo. She’d miss him, it was true. But there was simply no other option.

Gray continued. “Your phone ... signal ... you didn’t answer ... he called ... me.” His breath slowed and he straightened.

She moved to get up, and he held a hand in her direction. “Wait. Did you hit your head?”

She ignored him, scooted her tush back so her feet were on level ground, and stood. “No, I didn’t hit my head. I’m completely uninjured. And until you came caterwauling through my property, I was spending some time grounding.” She thought that’s what it was called.

“Grounding?” Gray pulled his phone from his pocket, but his tone made it clear that he wasn’t buying her explanation. “I’m pretty sure most people who spend time ‘grounding’ don’t look like they slid down a bank and into a freezing-cold river.”

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