Page 6 of Higher Ground
“Now, Emory.” He finally managed to soften his voice, if only a fraction, as he added, “Please, I need to know you’re safe.”
He heard Emory suck in a deep inhale and let it out slowly. Her breath whooshed against the phone, and he could almost,almost, imagine how it would feel if it was ghosting across his neck.
“Tomorrow,” she finally responded. “Most of this rain is hitting up north. It’ll be a couple of days before the flood hits, at least. I’ve got emergency bags packed, but I want to clear everything out in case I can’t come back.”
Byron didn’t want her to wait. If he had his way, she and Clayton would leave immediately with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, just so he knew they would get safely across the bridge. He didn’t tell her that, though. He understood why she wanted a day. That cottage would have held a lot ofmemories for her. Just as many good ones as bad ones, he supposed.
One more day would be okay. Even with all the rain expected overnight, she was right about when the flood would hit. The worst of it wasn’t due until all the rain up north started flowing down the river and into their basin. If anything, the more he thought about it, the more he realised leaving tonight wasn’t the best idea. No point risking the dark country roads while they were slick with the rain that had started to push through the low-hanging clouds.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Before the big storm hits.”
Chapter 3
Emory
“Remind me why we’re doing this?” Mya’s voice was heavy as she sulked.
Emory stuck her head out of her near-empty bedroom. She’d spent all morning fielding her best friend’s—her only friend’s—questions, and frankly, she’d had enough.
“Because Jaxon is kicking me out and if the flood is as big as they say, this damned cottage will be full of water for a week.” She ran her hands through the ends of her hair, gathering it together and looping it through the hair tie she always kept on her wrist. “I need to move everything I want out and at leastattemptto flood-proof everything else so he can’t try to blame me when it all ends up water-damaged.”
Making her way down the small hallway, Emory dodged Clayton’s plastic bowling ball and paused to help him set up the pins again. Ruffling his mop of blond hair, she swallowed down the unease that had been resting in her throat since yesterday. Living with Byron would be fine. Clayton would love spending more time with his Papa. And she would manage. She’d have to.
Mya stood in the living room with her hands on her hips, twisting her upper body to look back and forth around the room. Two large plastic tubs sat on the coffee table. One full of Clayton’s toys, the other loaded with Emory’s books and the handful of photo frames she had scattered around the walls. The small TV had been unplugged and was sitting on top of the kitchen bench, and the two suitcases Emory had packed yesterday were by the front door.
“You should really try to take all the furniture,” Mya said as Emory entered the room. “The farmhouse is huge. I’m sure Byron has space.”
Resigned, Emory flopped onto the couch. Her arm dangled off the side as she groaned. “I have no way of getting it there. I’m going to struggle to fit all these tubs in my car, let alone a queen-size bed and a bloody sofa.”
Mya pulled at Emory’s legs, twisting them off the couch so she was forced to sit up. Emory had a clear view of her friend’s stomach, toned from all the hours she spent helping haul cartons of fresh produce at her parents’ store. Emory knew that every morning, without fail, Mya would show up to do all the heavy lifting so her dad didn’t have to, then she’d rush off to her job at the community library. Reaching up, she poked Mya in the ribs, then grabbed her wrists and pulled her down so they were sitting together. Mya might as well have been in Emory’s lap, they were so close. One of Mya’s legs rested over the top of Emory’s thigh, and Emory’s shoulder was dangerously close to taking out Mya’s breast.
Wrapping her arms around Emory, Mya kissed the top of her head.
“You okay?”
Emory felt her whole body droop into Mya’s comfortable embrace. She wasn’t okay, she just wasn’t really sure how to explain it to Mya. No doubt her friend assumed she was mellowabout moving out of the cottage, and sure she was, but it was the least of her current problems. Finding a new place to live in Gardner Creek was so far down the list of her worries, it was barely even a speck on the horizon.
A silent tear forced its way down her cheek, and she batted it away, hoping Mya wouldn’t notice. But as the town’s most social librarian and therefore the go-to for all kinds of moral advice and support, Mya was well-versed in silent interactions. She caught Emory’s hand as it wiped at the tear and clasped it in her own.
“You’ll find somewhere.”
Emory hiccupped, sucked in a raspy breath, and ran through sentences in her head. She had to tell her friend she was planning to leave town as soon as she could, and now was as good a time as any.
“If you don’t,” Mya continued before Emory had figured out how to phrase the bombshell, “you and Clayton can come stay with me for a while.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
Mya recoiled a little, scrunching her nose up. “Well, you can’t honestly expect to stay with Byron for any longer than you need to?”
“I won’t.”
Emory pushed herself out of Mya’s hold. With her hands on Mya’s shoulders, Emory looked up at her friend. The front of Mya’s usually styled bob was pulled back from her face in a small, high fountain of a ponytail. A few stray strands framed her face perfectly and Emory wondered how Mya always looked so damned perfect. Even in a pair of faded leggings and an oversized hoodie, she screamed ‘put together’ and ‘I’ve got my shit sorted.’ It was the kind of look Emory always strived for but never felt like she achieved.
“I don’t want to find another place in town, Mya. I’m so close to finishing my degree, there’s no point. Once the flood clears, I’ll find an apartment in the city for me and Clay. Somewhere close to a daycare and schools andjobs.”
Emory closed her eyes. Under her hands, Emory could feel Mya’s shoulders shake.
“I thought I had more time with you.”
