Page 123 of 15 Summers Later

After a moment, Madi went inside the house, Mo on her heels. Mabel was nowhere in sight and she assumed she was either with Nicki or had stayed to comfort Ava.

It occurred to Madi for the first time that she couldn’t sleep in her own bed since Ava and Cullen were there. She found clean pajamas in the laundry room and changed into them after she quickly showered off the mud and grime from the ride, then headed for their tiny guest room.

On the way, she spied Nicki’s copy ofGhost Lakeon the side table in the living room. Impulsively, she picked it up and carried it to the narrow bed in the guest room. She would read for a while, she decided, which was probably all she could manage before she fell asleep.

Hours later, right before sunrise, she closed the book, mentally and physically exhausted.

Tears dripped down her cheeks for her brilliant, beautiful, brave sister, who had somehow managed to condense all of the fear and trauma into a story that, far from feeling exploitative or sad, resonated with humor, with compassion and with hope.

35

As we stand on the precipice of a new beginning, the mountains behind us hold the echoes of our struggle, and the horizon ahead beckons with the promise of a life unshackled from the dark chapters of our past.

—Ghost Lakeby Ava Howell Brooks

Ava

She dreamed she was lost in the mountains again—cold, wet, hungry, afraid. Hiding from anyone they saw because they had no idea whom they could trust, if they indeed could rely on anyone.

It was a familiar dream she had entirely too often, when she relived the crushing fear of being responsible for her younger sister. The odds of them both surviving were slim at best. Ava hated those odds and she was determined that Madi, at least, would make it safely to their grandmother, no matter what she had to do to make it happen.

This time felt different somehow. Madi wasn’t there. Instead, Ava carried a small bundle in her arms.

Her baby. She had to keep her baby safe from the cold, from the rushing waters, from the mountain lions and the dogs and the horrible, ruthless men with guns.

She couldn’t let anything happen to her baby. She stumbled, fell, got up again, running through thistles and scrub oak and sagebrush that snagged at her clothes and ripped at her skin.

And then she was falling again, arms spiraling at a cliff’s edge as she went down and the bundle in her arms soared away, beyond her reach.

She cried out and the sound woke her. For a moment, she lay in a bed that felt unfamiliar, her heart pounding wildly. Her face felt wet with tears, and as consciousness gradually returned, she remembered.

It hadn’t all been a dream. She had lost the baby. She sobbed out and in her hazy half-asleep state, she thought she felt arms around her.

“Easy, darling. Easy. I’ve got you.”

And somehow her husband was there, holding her, calming her.

She knew it was impossible. Cullen was in the mountains. But in her dreams, the man in the bed beside her smelled like Cullen and the arms around her felt like his.

With Cullen, she was safe. No matter what happened, he would keep the darkness away. He always did.

She closed her eyes and sagged into him, letting sleep claim her again.

When she awoke hours later, Ava lay in her sister’s bed, watching the pale dawn light come through the blinds. The heavy ache in her chest reminded her with clarity of the stark, unavoidable truth.

Her baby was gone.

Her eyes felt gritty and sore, as if she had been crying all night long. She didn’t want to get up. She wanted to stay here, pull the blankets over her head and pretend none of it had happened.

Would Cullen come down from the mountain that day? She didn’t want to tell him, to say the words that would extinguish that bright light that had flared in his expression the past few times she had seen him, when he would return to town to spend time with her and they would talk about the baby.

She closed her eyes again. Only then, as consciousness fully returned, did she realize she wasn’t alone in the bed. She knew Madi’s little schnauzer mix had cuddled with her before she fell asleep but this presence felt much bigger.

She felt an instant’s fear before the familiar, beloved smell of soap scented with sandalwood, black pepper and leather pushed through.

She opened her eyes, shifted her gaze and found her husband lying beside her, his arms cradling her and his eyes open.

“Ava. My darling Ava,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

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