Page 97 of Found in Wild Sage

A sob-like laugh croaks out of me, and then I let out an insane-sounding giggle.

“I was freaking out and you were planning our honeymoon?” I tug on his shirt and kiss him with everything I’ve got. When we come up for air, the words tumble off my tongue. “I love you so much. I appreciate you so much. And I want to make clear that I know logically you are nothing like Trevor. You’re not. And I’m not like I was with him. Everything is different with us, and I’ve healed a lot. But apparently, my gut reaction still has room to grow. I’m so sorry I thought something bad was happening.”

I’m embarrassed, but mostly so deeply relieved and grateful. Yes, there it is again. I’m grateful to him for being the kind of man who would agonize over asking about a honeymoon. I’m grateful life led me to him. And I’m so deeply grateful to be his.

“That’s okay. We’re new, and for newlyweds, we’re particularly new considering we didn’t date before we got married. We’re going to have a lot to figure out as we go.”

I kiss his hand like he did mine. “We are. But we can do it.”

His smile is soft when he nods. “We can.” After a beat during which we grin at each other like airheads, he unbuckles his seatbelt, then mine. “How about we head inside and talk about the honeymoon idea?”

“Perfect plan.”

After a lovely lunch, we head back to work. The afternoon trots along and I’m more than ready to relax at home with my boys by the end of the day. Declan’s out doing his volunteer clinic time so I wander over to the daycare and check on Clementine before heading to get Charlie.

Clementine has been looking exhausted, but when I ask her how she’s doing, she gives me a cheery “doing great!” and I get that she’s not up for more conversation. Maybe it’s just a mid-week crash, which I certainly empathize with. That done, I head back to Mary’s to pick up Charlie. He didn’t nap, so I feel terrible for Mary, but she mentions a friend stopped by and that she and Charlie had a great time “visiting.”

Charlie is teary when we leave, and I’m feeling it, too. Pulling on sweatpants sounds like heaven.

At home, I get dinner going while Charlie plays with some toys in the living room. Around six-thirty, the doorbell rings. It can’t be Dec because he’d just come right in, but I swing the door open without checking the spyhole because it’s probably Finn or Sam or someone just stopping by.

But once I open the door, my brain freezes up. I don’t greet the person because I know her, but I don’t instantly place her. Not for the first fraction of a second. And then I do.

Then I realize who I’m seeing.

“Katrina?”

“Surprise, Evie.”

I shrink back and immediately start closing the door.

She shoves her foot between the threshold and the panel before I can completely shut it, and pulls something out of her pocket.

“Now, now, Miss Priss. You’re not shutting me out anymore.”

I step back, hands raised, fear liquifying in my belly at the sight of a gun pointed at me.

“What do you want? What are you doing here?”

She heaves an exhausted sigh and rolls her eyes. “I mean, if you haven’t connected the dots already, you’re stupider than I thought.”

“Mama? Mama?”

A greater fear than being faced with a weapon hits when I hear my son’s little voice. He’s in the high chair, so he’s safe for now, but now she knows he’s here.

“Oh, there he is, my grandson!” She walks forward, gun still pointed at my chest, so I back up, nearly tripping over the rug in the entryway.

We reach the kitchen and Katrina smiles at Charlie, cooing out a sweet-sounding, “There he is.”

I want to vomit and scream. I want Dec. I want Grant. I want anyone at all other than this woman who knew exactly what her son was doing to me and thought I should toughen up.

“What do you want?” I ask again because I can’t stand the suspense. I want her out of here.

She tips her head to one side, giving me one of those condescending looks that spells out exactly how little she thinks of me.

“Isn’t it obvious, Evie? I want my grandson.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX