Van nodded. “I’m done walking down memory lane.”
Sitting forward, I reached for his hand. “Whenever you’re ready for another walk, I’m here, holding your hand and walking beside you.”
“I don’t need memories, Julia. I want a future.”
“Better than the past.”
“Always better.”
I gathered my strength. “Tomorrow I’ll call Margaret and see if she wants to go to the cabin to discuss decorations.”
“Michael—”
“He or Albert can drive, not because I’m scared but because I know you have work that you’ve been putting off, and I don’t want you worrying.”
“That won’t stop me from worrying, but it will make me feel better. What about your work?”
“You mean with Wade?” I asked. It was something I’d thought about since our return. My laptop was in the bedroom, where I’d left it since my email to my dad. “Keep me updated on the stocks. Until we’re married, I don’t have a leg to stand on with Mom or the rest of the board. Next Monday, my focus will change.”
“No honeymoon?”
“Did you want a honeymoon?” That hadn’t occurred to me.
“We can plan something for when life isn’t as crazy.”
Retrieving my wine glass, I looked around the room, taking in the orange hue from the fire, the ornate woodwork, and shelves of books. “I’ll take a mini honeymoon right here.”
Van
Leaving Julia at the house was one of the most difficult things I’d done. Even though I’d left her asleep in our suite, I knew she wouldn’t be alone. Michael and Albert’s presence was one of the reasons I didn’t reschedule my work to virtual for another day. The other reason was the message from Rob I’d received upon waking. It said that Phillip had an airline ticket. After a layover in Phoenix, this afternoon he’d arrive in San Antonio. Back home, safe and sound.
Had he given up?
Had Logan and Marlin abandoned their plan?
I didn’t know the answers, yet I knew I wasn’t done with any of them. They’d pay for what they’d done to Julia. Physically, she was fine. No, she was perfect. It was mentally and emotionally that I saw the wear. If I could take every what-if from her thoughts, I would.
My response to Rob was to follow Phillip to Texas or the ends of the earth. I wasn’t taking any chances that his airline ticket was a false flag.
On my way into Ashland, I took a detour up to the cabin. While the sun hadn’t fully risen, a red hue hung low in the horizon beyond the bay as I ascended the hill through the trees.
My loafers slipped on the frozen ground, now imprinted with even more tire tracks. They belonged to Jonathon and the rest of my security. It’s what I told myself as I walked around the perimeter. My weight crunched through the hardened crust of the snow except where I could step into existing prints.
The path to the outhouse was still relatively clear from my shoveling on Christmas Eve.
The temperature warmed only from the loss of the outside breeze as I entered the cabin. The grate within the hearth was cold and the ashes near frozen. Step by step, I walked around the one room, opening cabinets and checking for signs of our trespasser.
No signs remained.
The dishes were back where they belonged, no longer in the sink, the bed was made with fresh sheets and blankets, and the logs in the holder were replenished. Jonathon had done all that I asked, restoring the cabin’s allure. And yet the memory would remain of our visitor, at least until that person was identified.
“Fuck you,” I said aloud to no one. “Fuck you for spoiling Julia’s memories.”
Sunrays from the lightening sky shone into the fireplace. A reflection glistened within the hearth, catching my attention. I crouched down prepared to see more remnants of our decorations. Using the poker, I freed the string of decorative beads we’d placed on the tree. It was as I reached for what remained that I began to question that they were indeed beads. Lifting the string between my fingers, I rotated the gritty globes with my fingertips.
The globes weren’t melted or charred as the inexpensive decorations should have been. Closer inspection revealed small knots between each globe. With the end of the poker, I stirred the ash. Other radiant balls materialized.
“Shit,” I murmured.