Page 3 of The Girl in the River

Killing her was the hardest thing Mia had ever done.I know you had dreams, Jess. I’m sorry I stole them from you.

Tears laced her eyes. Her fiancé, Mark Wade, deserved to know the truth. But that was too dangerous so she kept her secrets locked away in the attic of her mind where she prayed they stayed forever.

“Mommy.” Her four-year-old daughter Pixie smiled as she ran her fingers over the satin fabric of Mia’s satin, mermaid-style wedding dress. “You look beautiful.”

Love for her daughter filled her heart as she hugged Pixie. Everything she’d done, she’d done for this beautiful child. “So do you, sweet girl.”

Pixie danced around, the tulle on her white flower girl dress swishing, her sparkly pink shoes tapping on the wood floor. A string of tiny daisies was woven in the strands of her long blond French braid, making her look angelic. And her dark brown eyes looked like chocolate drops, huge in her tiny face.

Mia’s heart squeezed. She loved this child more than words.

“I can’t wait to drop the rose petals down the aisle,” Pixie chirped.

Mia laughed at Pixie’s exuberance. She’d been so excited at the rehearsal that she’d practically run down the aisle, tossing the flowers over her head after she’d reached the gazebo where Mia and Mark would say their vows.

Still, nerves fluttered in Mia’s belly. She’d never thought she’d find a nice, loving man like Mark, or that she’d ever get married. In fact, when she’d first moved to the small town of Crooked Creek in the Appalachian Mountains, she’d staunchly avoided getting close to anyone.

Especially a man.

She’d devoted herself to raising Pixie and refused to let anyone into their lives. Pixie was all she needed. She was her life.

Then one day Mark had walked into the garden center to buy fertilizer and seed, and a spark had been lit. Still, she’d run from that feeling. Sparks could get you in trouble. Charmers could be snakes beneath the act.

Yet she’d watched him patiently listen to her daughter as Pixie led him around the store pointing out her favorite flowers. He’d told her about the kids he taught and the ones he coached on the high school soccer team with such pride that it warmed her heart. Then he’d helped Old Ms. Eula, the local ghost whisperer, load gardening supplies into the back of her truck, and she decided he was a good guy.

But the first time he’d asked her to dinner, she’d balked. Getting close was playing with fire.

But his constant kindness had soon melted her resistance, and three months in, she fell for him hard.

He would make a great father for Pixie.

A knock sounded at the door to her dressing room and her coworker and maid of honor Tori James poked her head in. “Are you ready?”

Mia stood, brushing her fingers over her dress as she checked her veil in the mirror. Regret for lying to Mark threatened to steal her joy, but as Pixie bounced up and down and grabbed her flower basket, Mia nodded.

“Pixie, go potty, honey, then it’s time to get lined up.”

Pixie skipped into the bathroom and closed the door while Tori checked her own hair in the mirror.

Mia stepped to the window and looked out at the lilies and peonies decorating the gazebo. The sun was starting to fade with brilliant reds, oranges and yellows dyeing the sky above the majestic mountain peaks. The dozens and dozens of magnolias for which the resort venue was named still held a few blooms, white blossoms dotting the grass.

“Let’s go to the river for pictures,” the photographer had suggested earlier.

Mia had shaken her head. “No, I don’t like the water.”

A shudder rippled through her. In her mind, she heard the water angrily raging over the jagged river rocks. Saw the river monsters rising through the fog, swarming around her. Saw death and darkness and the ghosts of her parents floating in the haze, disappearing into nothing.

Sadness overcame her. She desperately wished they could be here today, along with her sister. She missed them terribly. But that was not to be.

Footsteps echoed outside in the hall, and she blinked the monsters away. Guests were congregating on the lawn. The Hintons, who owned the gardening center. Crystal Marrs, the owner of the local crystal shop, who’d suggested Mia use essential oils and herbs to calm her anxiety.

Suddenly a head of dark blond hair caught her eye. Gray suit. A tall, broad-shouldered man. Her pulse quickened.

No… it couldn’t be him. She’d covered her tracks well. He had no idea where she was… None ofthemdid.

And it had to stay that way. He’d kill her for what she’d done to Jesse.

THREE

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