Page 133 of Tender Heart
Stilling, I dwell on the memories of Evie that flood in. The irony of it all is not lost on me.
Her beautiful face.
Her soft little ways, always full of life.
That is, once she got that part of herself back.
Her fiery streak that came out when I denied her.
I slide down the small kitchen built-ins. The engine outside grows louder.
The slack in the line snaps outside. The tilted floor under my seat jerks upward.
I close my eyes.
Free-falling, I go limp.
My back hits the ceiling with a painful crack. My head whips backward.
Water rolls over me.
Air leaves my lungs.
Eyes open, I watch helplessly as the contents of the little boat sink into the water from above. Something heavy and dark plummets toward me. I can’t move fast enough.
It cracks against my temple.
Darkness swallows me whole.
Thirty-Six
EVIE
Ifly from the cruiser’s cabin, not looking back as I take the gap between the jetty and the boat’s starboard side at a wobbly leap. I run up the jetty and to the house, my lungs burning. Errol yells something I can’t make out. The Coast Guard boat drifts from the jetty and turns back before the engines power up, shooting the boat back out to the water.
The lighthouse front door gives way under the heel of my hand.
“Cal!”
I spin around inside, looking at everything at once.
“Callum!”
Only the rasping breaths leaving my lungs and silence reply.
Whimpering, I try desperately to stave off the sobs piling up behind the stone choking me.
Flashes of the crumpled car and my dead, limp husband hunched over the steering wheel flood in.
“No . . .”
I spin back to the door and run for the greenhouse, sliding the oversized door open. Moist, warm air greets me, and I jog through the aisles. “Cal! Please, Callum!?”
The gravel sprays from every footfall as my strides turn sloppy, and my desperation takes hold.
I close the greenhouse door, protecting Cal’s crops and hard work, and I sprint for the forest. Maybe he’s at the fishing hut. He told me he goes there when he needs to think...
I move in on the tree line, and the wind changes, whipping around me. My hair slaps my face from the east. The drone of an engine drifts in.
