Chapter Twelve

Calista tore the comforter off the bed. Dust flew into the stream of sun coming in from the window and tickled her nose. She needed to burn up this unrest. Tearing apart Ava’s old room was going to be the way.

She hadn’t slept a wink on Gage’s couch. The blanket she found to toss over herself smelled like his woodsy scent. Like a lovesick schoolgirl, she had balled it in her fists and held it under her nose most of the night.

His embrace had seared her skin. She wanted his hands all over her, but instead he had pushed her away. That had been her fault. She told him she couldn’t move forward. This morning she wanted to for the first time. The look on his face last night when he’d allowed his frustration to show nearly broke her heart.

She craved his touch the way she craved air. She tried to forget how good his muscles felt under her fingers. Or the way he would tangle his legs around hers when they slept. She didn’t want to remember the intense look on his face when he tried to figure something out or the ease in his stride when he hiked through the mountains.

Every man she had been with had paled in comparison. It wasn’t fair to hold them up to Gage’s memory, but she never stopped doing it.

The sheets had been on this bed for sixteen years, collecting dust the way a hoarder collects garbage. She yanked them off and folded everything before placing them in the cardboard boxes. Packing up the clothes, photos, and awards might be the hardest, but it would have to be done.

“What are you doing?” Her father’s voice shattered the silence.

She spun around and tripped over the corner of the bed. A pain shot up her shin. She bit her lip to keep from yelling. “You scared me.”

He marched into the room with a newspaper rolled up in his hand. “What is happening in here, Calista?” He pushed his glasses up on his red-veined nose. Creases bent the fabric of his button-down shirt.

“I’m going to redecorate this room.” She fisted her hands on her hips.

“You will do no such thing. This is Ava’s room.” He pulled the sheets from the box.

“Leave those where they are.” She took the sheets back and clasped them against her chest. “I’m perfectly aware of whose room this was. And it’s time to change that.” She wanted to tell him her plan would be to move him into the main house by the end of the summer so she could rent out the lake cottage, but one step at a time.

“You don’t even live here any longer. Why do you care so much about Ava’s room? In a couple of weeks, you’ll go back to the city and that bar you work at.” He spit out the words. “You’ll leave me here. Ava’s room gives me comfort. Why would you deny me that?”

“It’s not healthy to keep all this stuff. It won’t bring her back.” She picked up a photograph of her and Ava at Ava’s high school graduation only a few weeks before her death. She had pulled her sister in for a hug and knocked her cap off her head. Ava had reached up to steady it just as the picture was taken. Their smiles spread wide. Two sisters who could not possibly know what lay in store for them.

Her father grabbed the frame from her hands and put it back in its spot on Ava’s dresser. “Leave that alone.” His hands shook.

“Are you drinking again?”

“Why do you think I’m always drinking? You need to show me some respect. I don’t answer to my child.”

Anger tore at her insides. She wanted to scream but took a long breath instead. “You didn’t answer my question.” She knew the signs of someone deflecting. He didn’t want to answer her question, so he pushed back on her.

“It’s none of your business if I’m drinking.”

“In fact, it is. When Gage calls me and tells me to come home because my father has been arrested, and when the family business is almost in the ground because somewhere a long time ago you stopped caring about it, your drinking becomes my business.”

Her father turned his back and stood before Ava’s dresser. She had kept a small wooden box and filled it with tokens that meant something to her. Keepsakes. Or junk, depending on Ava’s mood. Her father ran his fingers over the lid. Right now, she was inclined to think of that tiny chest as junk.

He opened the box and pushed around its contents. She backed to the door. Whatever was inside could stay hidden. She would take this room apart whether he liked it or not.

“You can do what you want to the main house. I don’t care. But if you touch another thing in this room, I will never speak to you again.” He kept his back to her. Ice ran through his voice.

He had never spoken to her in that tone before. The only other time she heard him use it was when he told her mother to get out of the house. He was upset. He didn’t know what he was saying.

“You don’t mean that.” She held her breath and waited for him to say something.

“I mean it with every fiber of my body. If you take this room apart, we aren’t related anymore.”

“Dad, please. This is silly. You need to heal. We both do. But you can’t do that it if you don’t pack up her stuff.”

He spun around to face her. “Stop telling me how to grieve. If I don’t remember her, who will? Your mother? You? You left here minutes after the funeral. You just moved on without her, as if she didn’t exist. You didn’t care about her. My beautiful little daughter deprived of all the things she could have been. And what do you do? Do you try to live in her honor? No, you do nothing with your life. You wasted your life when your sister didn’t even get a chance to live.” His face bloomed red. A vein pulsed on the side of his neck.

A poisonous fury overpowered her. Her skin was hot, and her vision blurred. His words pushed her over the edge of sanity she’d been balancing above for years. Her legs moved forward of their own free will.

She shoved her dad with both hands. He fell against the dresser, and it bounced off the wall. The contents on top slid back and forth, as if they were on a ship fighting waves in a storm. The picture of her and Ava fell to the floor, and the glass shattered. The box of junk tipped over. The jewelry, lonely buttons that lost their rightful places, and dried flowers littered the dresser and mingled with the broken glass.

Her heart begged to be set free of the pain. “I wish this wasn’t my family.”

Tears slid from her eyes. Her father stared at her with his mouth hanging open, and as if he realized where he was for the first time, he dropped to the floor and gathered Ava’s things without another word.

She ran from the lake house and up to the main house. The roaring in her ears drowned out all sound. She could still feel her father’s small chest against her palms. Bile burned the back of her throat. She shoved open the door into the kitchen and gulped in air, but her heart refused to slow.

The bump on her forehead pounded. She poured water into a glass and paced the kitchen. She should leave now. Forget the Fourth and this house. Nothing she did mattered. Her father only loved Ava. He had stopped seeing her the day they put Ava in the ground. Instead of joining together in their loss, he wore his hurt and grief like the skin of a porcupine. She couldn’t get near him, and she needed to. Just once she wanted her father to put his arms around her and tell her it would all be okay. She needed to hear that they would go on together and Ava’s memory would be like a tide that rolled in and out. Instead, Ava’s memory was a tsunami.

She grabbed her clothes and shoved them into her suitcase. She needed to forget Gage too. They would never work out. He was the enemy, and she had better stay on her side of the fighting line.

“Is anyone home?” Justin’s voice vibrated through the house and splintered her nerves further. Damn his punctuality. If Justin was here, Gage wouldn’t be far behind. He wanted to ask Justin questions about the robbery at the pub, and he wouldn’t be stopped, especially after what had happened between them last night and the fact she’d left this morning without even saying goodbye.

She rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right there.”

He waited by the front door with his hands in the pockets of his oversized pants. He wore his crooked smile and a blue T-shirt covered in bleach spots. He bounced on his toes, which made the baseball cap wobble on his head. His presence brought some light into her dark mood.

“Hey, Justin. I’m sorry. Were you waiting long?”

“What happened to your head?” The smile dropped. His eyes narrowed, and he inched closer.

She waved him away. Easier to keep things neutral. “I got in the way of a golf club. I’m okay now. Do you want some coffee?”

His reaction appeared natural. If he had been at the bar or involved with the robbers last night, he would have known what happened. He might have been outside, but he wasn’t involved.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did you get into a fight or something?”

“Let’s get that coffee. I need a strong cup.” She led him into the kitchen and grabbed two mugs. She needed something stronger than coffee, but this would have to do. Justin eyed the cornbread on the counter. She cut him a large slice and slid the plate to him.

“Can I ask you something?” She poured milk into her coffee and kept her gaze away from his.

“I guess so.” He bit off a large piece of the cornbread. Crumbs tumbled back to the counter.

“Why were you at the pub last night?”

“What are you talking about?” He pushed the food away.

She took a deep breath. “The sheriff has video footage of you outside Kennedy’s pub last night right before the bar was burglarized.”

The color drained from his face. Her stomach twisted in knots. She rushed on. “He wants to ask you some questions. I asked him to wait until today. He’s coming by this morning to talk to you.”

“Is he charging me with something?”

“No.”

“Then I’ve got nothing to say. He can arrest me or bring me in for questioning, but I’m not talking. He’ll only pin this on me, and I didn’t rob that bar. You believe me, don’t you?”

“I do.” The man who chased her into the office wasn’t Justin. She was almost certain the other man wasn’t either. Justin didn’t rob anybody, but the tickle up her spine said he might know something. She didn’t want Gage to be right about him. She needed Justin to be innocent.

“I’ll be right here if you want. You can trust me when I say Sheriff Ryker is an honest man. I’ve known him my whole life. He would never accuse you of doing something you didn’t. He just wants to ask you about being outside the bar. I kind of do too, Justin. What gives?”

He kept his gaze on the coffee he never touched. “I hung around town after work. I didn’t want to go home. You can get to the lake from there. I only wanted to sit on the dock for a little while. I didn’t think it would matter. The place was closed, but I heard voices and I got back in my car and took off.”

“Did anyone see you?” That would be what Gage would ask.

“I don’t know.”

“Was your brother home when you got there?”

He adjusted his cap. “No.”

“Where are your parents?” She never heard him mention his family, and if this brother was responsible for him, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“My parents won’t speak to me. They wanted me to go to college and then come back to the reservation and help my people. I don’t want to go back. I’m tired of the struggle. They never have any money. There were times we didn’t have any food. I want to make something of myself and bring them to live with me, but my father will never give up his heritage. Since I’m willing to give up mine, he said I was dead to him.” He held her gaze and tilted up his chin.

“I’m so sorry.” His father would never come around. The Indian people were proud, with every right. They had never wanted to be colonized, and the American government took away their chances for a prosperous life by owning their land. “And your brother agrees with them. May I ask how you and your brother are getting along?”

“I try to avoid him as much as possible. He doesn’t like anything I do. Is this interrogation over?”

She hit too close to a deep wound. His life was his business. “If we don’t talk to Gage now, he’s only going to keep looking for you. I saw the video, Justin. That’s you on it. Whether you like it or not, you will have to answer some questions. My friend’s bar was robbed, and she was hurt by whoever did it. They hit her over the head. I want Sheriff Ryker to make an arrest as much as anyone else.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I know you didn’t commit the robbery. I saw the two men. Your image outside the bar five minutes before the crime doesn’t help your case. You might have wanted to sit by the lake, but you must’ve seen something that could be helpful.”

“You know what? I just remembered an appointment I have. I’ll be back tomorrow unless you’re going to fire me. If you are, just do it now because I need a job. I’ll have to start looking all over again.” His black gaze never wavered.

She retreated. “I won’t fire you.”

“Thanks for breakfast.” He marched out the front door.

She pulled out her phone and took a deep, meditative breath. Her fingers hovered over the screen. Gage would be furious. She had asked him to trust her, and she didn’t produce. That would only confirm what he believed.

She sent the text and waited for his explosive response. The men in her life were ticking time bombs, and she stood in the middle of the minefield with no way out.