Page 26 of Hearts on the Mend

Balanced on a ladder that’s seen better decades in a house I don’t even own. My back rips with pain as I reach to my left, my boot slipping on the ladder rung.

“Sonofabitch!”

My arms pinwheel, stomach dropping before I clutch the top of the doorframe. Seven months ago, I jumped out of planes for a living. Now falling six feet has me white-knuckling like a rookie.

I know I shouldn’t be up here, shouldn’t be forcing my body to move this way, but if I want to head back to Montana, I need to start somewhere in this house, and the walls are shit thanks to the fragile horsehair plaster. It’s been glued together by layers of old wallpaper.

Which now also needs to be removed.

At least it’s quiet though. I’ve been at it since Cassie and Ruby left this morning. Cassie has a list tucked under an otter magnet on the old avocado-colored fridge. Like a honey-do list, except for the man who’s crashing in the spare bedroom in a house she’s selling because of her messy divorce. The same man she only knows because she was drunk enough to sleep with him one night almost a year ago.

It’s fucking crazy.

Nothing about the past year makes sense.

I breathe through the searing pain racing up my left side. It’s like a lightning strike, the current buzzing and frying my nerves. And the fucking itch. I run the blade of the utility knife over the frayed drywall tape when my phone buzzes.

Cassie.

I slip the blade closed and slowly step down from the ladder.

“Yeah?”

I ignore the pit in my stomach. Maybe I’m a little rude. I’m just trying my hardest to keep a firm line between the two of us. She made it clear she wanted it before I moved in, and I’ll respect that.

“I have a favor. Big favor. School called, and Ruby has a fever. I can’t leave for another four hours at least. We’re swamped at the ER. Can you please go pick her up and bring her home? I’m sorry. I don’t trust anyone else. If you can’t…”

She wants me to…

“I don’t know my neighbor well. Mrs. Bailey? Well, I can try calling her. Not sure Ruby would go with her. I don’t even know where the thermometer is. I have so much stuff left to unpack. I should have been prepared for this⁠—”

“Cassie.” This can’t be easy for her. Digging my feet in right now doesn’t seem like the smart move.

“Yeah?”

“I have it.” I grab my truck keys from the basket near the front stairs and head out, shutting the door behind me. “Call the school. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I turn my collar toward the cold, my breath billowing out around me as I start up the truck and drive into town to make a stop at the pharmacy. A thermometer, a couple of jugs of Pedialyte, crackers, and a box of mango Popsicles later, I toss everything into the passenger’s side, pushing past my body’s protests.

I text my brother, drumming my fingers over the steering wheel.

Nolan: Where are you?

It takes a minute before his reply.

Jack: At the rink. Why?

I’m never gonna live this down.

Nolan: Need to grab the car seat. Don’t have time for questions. Be there in five.

Jack: I have a few questions…

When I pull up to the new Merritt Point hockey facility, the one my brother, Jack Murphy, retired forward for the Boston Breakers, rebuilt, I’m hit with another unwelcome wave of guilt.

My siblings are out living their lives. Chasing after what they want, all rooted in the town I couldn’t wait to leave. I love them. I’ve just never been sure I belong with them.

After two nasty concussions, Jack retired from hockey last season and threw himself into restoring the hockey rink here in Merritt Point. Jack hosts training camps and coaches youth hockey now. He loves this place almost as much as he loves his wife, Izzy.