Page 137 of Down Knot Out
The request catches me off guard. It’s the first time she’s expressed an interest in my life outside of what I can do for her.
I fall in beside her, and Mrs. Reynolds falls back to bring up the rear. The three of us climb the gravel path, Sadie breathing harder the higher we go, a flush of exertion lending color to her cheeks, but she never asks for a rest.
I tell her about Nathaniel’s history on the island, our plans for the Resort, and point out the various walking paths as we pass. She nods along, huffing and puffing, but otherwise staying silent.
As we near the Homestead, Quinn’s bright squeal and Chloe’s soft hum drift down, along with the thump of Sprinkles’s tail beating a rhythm on the porch boards.
Sadie draws a slow breath. “How’s she doing with the transition of living away from the city?”
“She loves it here.” Pride fills me. “Last night, we ate a salmon she caught herself.”
“Ha.” Sadie’s eyes glisten. “I can’t imagine our old man ever taking us fishing.”
“No,” I agree.
Sadie smooths a hand over her frizzy braid. “Does she hate me?”
“She loves you, but you’ve hurt her a lot,” I say, giving her honesty. “She’s got trauma that will need to be dealt with if we want her to grow up into a well-adjusted young woman.”
Sadie’s lips tremble. “Wonder what that looks like.”
“You still have time to find out,” I say gently. “You’re still young, yourself.”
Her tongue darts out to sweep over her cracked lips. “Some things don’t let you be young anymore.”
My stomach dips, but before I can ask what she means, she strides forward.
She stops at the bottom step and scans the porch. Quinn kneels next to Sprinkles, feeding him Holden’s homemade dog treats, oblivious to everything but the pup wagging his tail in front of her.
Chloe sits at one of the small, outdoor tables, knees drawn up under the dusky-purple knit blanket Dominic had given her for her nest, her pink hair glowing in the afternoon light.
The rest of our pack hovers around the borders of our designated meeting area, Nathaniel pretending to work on his tablet, Dominic stacking firewood, and Holden keeping an eye on things from the open kitchen window.
“You think she’ll come to me?” The question comes out raw.
“She’s your daughter,” I say, which isn’t an answer. I have no more clue about how Quinn will react to seeing her mother than Sadie does.
She stands frozen, shivering in the light breeze from the ocean. “You can go ahead. Let me do this part alone.”
I want to stay, but I understand. As I climb the steps, the weight of her eyes stays on my back the whole way. The porch boards creak under my weight, and I go to lean on the railing, heart pounding.
Sadie squares her shoulders and starts up the steps. Mrs. Reynolds follows a few paces behind, as if ready to catch my sister or to pull her back.
Quinn spots her mom at the last second and freezes, a dog treat in one hand, mouth working, but no sound coming out.
Sadie stops on the top step, and she shifts her weight, as if she might bolt instead. “Hi, Quinn.”
“Hi, mommy.” Quinn’s fist clenches in Sprinkles’s ruff, and sensing her tension, his ears prick forward as his tail stops wagging.
“Can I get a hug?” Sadie tries, her hands trembling.
Quinn shakes her head.
Sadie swallows. “Fair enough. Maybe next time.”
Mrs. Reynolds puts a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze.
Sadie sinks to her knees, the movement stiff but deliberate, and braces both hands on her thighs. “Your Uncle Blake told me you still had Sprinkles here. We brought a new toy for him.”
