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“This makes no damn sense. They wanted us together, didn’t they?” Rubbing her temple, Linnea momentarily frowned. “So why would my grandmother keep your letters from me? And why does Jarrid have them now?”
I have a hunch.
“I can’t say for sure.” Pausing, Kodiak turned his head. “But I think Catherine might be dead because of it.”
“She had a heart attack on the kitchen floor. I’m the one who found her.”
“Sure about that?” Because he wasn’t.
“Well, no, but…what are you saying?”
“Hear me out.” Grasping her hands in his, he squeezed. “What if Catherine had a change of heart? Maybe she just played along with Daddy’s twisted plan. And maybe she did what she could to stop it.”
“I don’t think so,” Linnea said, emphatically shaking her head. “She witnessed my signature on the marriage license.”
“Someone did a pretty good job signing your name.” At the bottom of every letter, even dotted the ‘i’ with a heart. “My guess is that someone signed her name too.”
“Jarrid?”
“Who else?” Their father was the most logical choice. “He must’ve figured out she kept the letters from you. We were married and I was coming home. What was he going to do? The only choice he had was to get rid of her.”
“This is just too much.”
Yeah, but hasn’t it always been?
It was just after sunset, that moment of dusk when the last vestiges of pink slip from the darkening navy sky. While Linnea put the baby to bed, Kodiak returned to his seat on the milk crate. Glancing down at his feet, he made a mental note to sweep up his father’s old cigarette butts from the porch.
Hymns of worship could be heard coming from the church across the street. What night was this? He’d lost track of the days here, but if they were singing and carrying on like that, it had to be Wednesday. Prayer meetings were on Wednesdays. At least they used to be.
The meetings were a spectacle, really. Worshippers speaking in tongues. Outbursts of praise in unintelligible words. Dancing and shouting ‘in the spirit’. Raising hands and arms in prayer.
Can’t forget the miracles, the divine healings, the prophecies that served as evidence to his sheep. Jarrid was filled with the Holy Spirit. He was God’s chosen one. And only he could save them from the growing demonic forces in the world.
“Satan does not succeed in taking the Bible from us, he works hard at taking us from the Bible.”
Kodiak had to hand it to him. His father put on a good performance. Jarrid was a terrific showman, not the new messiah. There were no miracles. A heap of snake oil and nonsensical ramblings is all it ever was. Folks ate it up, though.
Snickering to himself, Kodiak tipped his head back against the clapboard siding. He took a long hit on his pen, thankful Kelly convinced him to bring extras, because all this shit was fucking with his head.
Linnea had been upstairs a long time. No doubt she got caught up reading more old letters. God, he wished she’d never found them. He’d poured out his heart and soul to her in those letters. Feelings. Dreams. Desires. And she had done the same in return, or so he thought back then. Jarrid must’ve had quite the laugh at their expense.
The sound of katydids calling mingled with voices in song. Kodiak closed his eyes, slowly releasing the vapor from his lungs. He didn’t open them when Linnea sat down beside him, resting against his shoulder.
“That day in the park was supposed to be goodbye.”
“What?”
“When I left for Cali, I wasn’t going to come back,” he admitted.
Glancing up at him, she lifted her head. “Why?”
It was time to let the secrets go. There wasn’t a reason to hold onto them anymore.
“Because I still had feelings for you, Linnea. I couldn’t quite think of you as my sister.” His hand over his heart, Kodiak tapped on his chest. “My head knew it, but not in here. I’d loved you for so long. I didn’t know how to stop. So, I got as far away from you as I could.”
“Alaska?”
“Yeah, I always loved it there. Thought I could heal in the one place I felt peace.” After a pregnant pause, he turned his head to look at her. “I had to protect myself…and you.”
