“Yes, I’d appreciate that. I feel like I should call and give everyone a heads up. But I left my purse behind.”
“Actually.” He reached inside his coat and pulled a strap over his head. “I grabbed it for you.” He neared and handed it to her, his rough hands brushing against her clammy fingers.
“Thank you,” she murmured, staring down at the purse.
She didn’t want to meet his gaze and want more than he could offer. He put distance between them back at the scene and again when he had entered the room. She’d do well to follow his lead. He was the authority around town now.
But she yearned for her friend. Growing up, he’d been her support and comfort. She’d admired his strength of character, his absolute sense of right and wrong. He was a man devoted to the Lord. She’d leaned on her faith throughout her life and came into her own understanding after losing her sister. She often thought of how Daniel devoted himself to prayer especially in the difficult times when her own faith wavered.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll step outside and give you some space. I need to go follow up about Owen. Meet me in the waiting area when you’re ready to leave?”
She nodded and flashed him a thumbs up.
He exited the room quietly, and she took in a deep breath, inhaling the smell of cleaning agent again. The scent hinted a making a fresh start. She yearned to do so but at what cost?
Maybe she’d been foolish to entertain the idea of coming back to make peace and move on. If Owen hadn’t chased her down tonight, he’d be safe. That line of what if thinking was dangerous. She found her cell phone and dialed the main office number, but the phone rang and rang. On the outdated website, she found the number for the office phone and tried that.
“Hello?” a female voice answered.
“Hi, it’s Emma Lynde.”
“Hey, stranger. It’s me, Christine. Where are you? I saw the stuff on your bunk. Jennifer and I were getting worried.” Christine chuckled. “Thought we’d have to send out a search party. Maggot is here somewhere. We’re just missing you. Hurry up!”
With those sentences, Emma instantly travelled back in time. Jennifer and Christine were the inseparable best friends. They were closer than Emma and her twin sister, if such a thing were possible.
Maggot was really Marge. Emma had never quite clicked with the girl, a wealthy east coaster who was eager to please. Liz had adopted her early on. She’s a little odd. Who cares? Liz had said. She needs a chance. Everyone deserves a friend.
Marge had—in an accidental way—been the first troubled teen Emma had helped. Liz’s kindness to the awkward girl had encouraged Emma to reach out and help teens in need. Emma took in her surroundings, the seriousness of the situation reflected in the cold cleanliness of the hospital room. Reminiscing could wait. “Where’s Mrs. Thomas?”
“Probably up at the mess hall. I walked by and heard the phone ring, so I answered. Do you need her? Where are you?”
Emma didn’t want to share the news about Owen via a messenger. She probably shouldn’t mention it at all. “I was out getting the cake and…” Emma drew in a deep breath. “There was an accident on the highway.”
“Oh no. Really? I hope it wasn’t anyone we know.”
Emma gritted her teeth at the poorly timed, suspicious turn of phrase. Not every camper had arrived for the reunion. The statement was logical and expressed a natural concern. “My vehicle was hit.”
“But you sound fine. Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m at the hospital. I’m fine. I’ve been cleared and am getting a ride back. I’ll be there soon. But can you let Mrs. Thomas know I didn’t make it to the bakery?” Emma crossed her fingers that the disappointment was enough of a distraction from the seriousness of what really happened. Too soon, Mrs. Thomas would learn the terrible news and make her way to the hospital to keep vigil at her son’s bedside.
“Of course. Stay safe. See you soon.”
Emma ended the call. She laid down on the bed, resting her head against the pillow and shutting her eyes.
Coming back for the reunion had been a mistake. She’d imagined healing old wounds and finally finding peace. She’d been wrong. She prayed Owen would recover from the calamity she blamed herself for causing. If she hadn’t been on the road, she wouldn’t have created the chaotic scene that led to the crash.
Meeting Daniel again had proven that she was too late to pick up the pieces of the past. At one time, the sheriff had been her best friend, someone who had known her better than she knew herself. Someone as dear to her as her twin sister. But when the tragedy had happened, Emma couldn’t bear to stay close or be seen. She wanted anonymity and space. And she’d found both elsewhere.
The door opened.
“Please don’t tell me you’re kicking me out,” she teased, keeping her eyes shut.
No response.
Good. Maybe the person had the wrong room. She needed to gather her wits about her before heading back to camp with bad news and empty hands.
Footsteps approached.
