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“Every mile that passes, the pit in my stomach gets bigger. What the hell do I even say to him?” Her laugh bitter, she muttered, “I know what I’d like to say.”
“You don’t have to see him, Linnea.”
“This is going to sound strange, but I want to.” With a token shrug, her gaze turned in his direction. “I want Jarrid to have to face me, knowing that I know what he did, and it didn’t break us.”
Maybe Linnea needed to close the circle too.
“Bo and Ava are getting married right about now.” Glancing at the time, his sister changed the subject. A smile gracing her beautiful face, she added, softly, “You and Kelly are next.”
“Think so, do you?” The corner of his mouth sneaking up, Kodiak chanced a look her way.
She nodded. “I know so.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You and Dillon.”
“We talked about it…” Her smile fell, and turning toward the window, Linnea sighed. “…I haven’t heard from him since he got there. Have you?”
Almost every day. Devoted to his sister, he checked in often. Dillon made him promise not to tell her, though.
“He said to me once, there’s no avoiding your destiny.” Reassuring her, Kodiak squeezed her hand. “And you’re his.”
The stretch of highway familiar, fields of grain moved past the window. Silos. Billboards touting everything from clean restrooms and cheap gas to ‘Jesus Saves.’
“We’re almost there.”
“I figured we should go to the hospital first.” The road to Crossfield was at the next exit. “We can grab some lunch and head over to the house after.”
“Yeah, okay,” she agreed. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and no one will notice we’re there.”
“Doubt that.” He snickered. “You know how they are. The church folk will come calling the second they see us pull up in the driveway.”
“Can’t wait.”
“I’ll handle them.”
They were considered defectors. Kodiak had his reservations regarding how he and Linnea would be received by their father’s brainwashed worshippers—not to mention Crossfield’s townsfolk. Whether welcomed or vilified, and he presumed it would be the latter, he was prepared to take on the brunt of it.
His arm around Linnea’s waist, they were ushered into a little room by the nurse’s station. The smell of rubbing alcohol and scorched coffee turning his stomach, he pulled out a chair for his sister, and then took a seat for himself.
The doctor, a nondescript man dressed in surgical scrubs of green, sat down across from them. “As I told you on the phone, your father’s cancer is quite advanced—stage four. That means what started in his lungs has metastasized to other parts of his body—brain, bones, liver. If he’d have presented sooner, we might have been able to buy him some time, but…”
“I understand.” Reaching for Linnea’s hand, Kodiak wet his chapped lips.
“At this point, hospice is really the only option.” His glasses perched on the end of his nose, he looked at them from over the frame. “He’ll be kept comfortable.”
“How is he?” Kodiak inquired, knowing it would seem strange if he didn’t.
“Sometimes he’s with us and other times not. He’s easily agitated, confused, and that’s to be expected. Your father is declining rapidly, which is why I contacted you. As soon as you sign the consent, I can initiate the transfer to hospice. We’ll get him a bed there as soon as possible.”
“All right,” he said, nodding. “Thank you.”
“I’ll send the nurse in with the necessary paperwork.” Shaking his hand, the doctor stood. “I’m very sorry.”
“What a beautiful baby.”
