Chapter 6 Caroline

Chapter 6

Caroline

Caroline walked through the silence without fear. The moon was bright over her shoulders, blue-white and full of promise. Starfall has served its purpose, but now she was done with it, with its people. She had a whole life ahead of her, waiting for her like an open door, and she was ready to run out of it.

As her body—which was not her body—moved down a worn dirt path, Caroline heard these thoughts in her head, knowing they were not her own. These words in her head were an echo of someone else's feelings—the joy was muted, like a particularly good story she'd been told before. They weren't the thoughts of someone she knew, and yet somehow, they felt familiar. This woman was happy, hopeful, like Caroline used to feel as a kid on Christmas morning, the torturous ticking of time before decadent wonder.

The surroundings were familiar enough, In the place where Caroline could feel her own thoughts. This was Vixen's Fall—the craggy cliff face dropping into the strange little crescent moon–shaped inlet filled with sharp, fang-like rocks. Why would anyone want to visit this place at night? It filled Caroline's stomach with dull electric dread, but this woman didn't seem to share that apprehension.

Emmett was coming. They would leave this place. Their new life was starting. No more waiting. No more backbreaking work for people who looked down on her.

She heard a noise behind her, a branch snapping.

"Emmett?"

The trees that grew close to the cliff's edge, the same trees that had cradled her and her lover during stolen midnight hours and sheltered them from discovery as they laughed together, seemed so sinister now. They created deep shadows that suddenly made her afraid.

Within those shadows, she heard leaves moving. "Emmett, come out. This isn't funny and we need to leave."

No answer. Caroline could feel the annoyance building in her (host's?) head, crowding out the fear. That was good. The body, whoever was carrying Caroline like a passenger, wasn't used to fear. She worked better with annoyance. She moved closer to the trees, to the shadows. "Emmett, the boat—"

White hands, soft hands that had never known a true day's work, shot out of the shadows and closed around her shoulders. They were strong , so much stronger than this body had expected . Those hands drove her back, toward the cliff, moving her feet over the dirt like useless rag-doll legs. How were they so strong? They'd all been fooled. The cliff face was getting closer. Caroline could feel the wind against her back, hear the waves crashing beneath her as she was shoved farther and farther away from safety.

She felt the world give way from beneath her feet, and she was falling. The cliff's edge grew smaller and smaller, giving her the upside-down sense of floating as the crash of the waves grew louder. And all Caroline could seem to focus on were the soft, white hands backlit by the moon.

And as the darkness swallowed her, one thought echoed through her mind, the person she regretted leaving behind. The person who would never know what had just happened to her.

Emmett.

***

Caroline gasped—a hoarse, labored sound even to her own ears—as she broke the surface of the dream like water.

Everything in her body hurt, from the crown of her skull to the tips of her toes. But it was an indistinct pain, muted somehow, like the emotions in her dream. Her brain felt slow, like the last time she'd decided, in a fit of overconfidence, to taste test several new brands of bourbon. Her eyes didn't want to open. She could smell Ben's cologne, in a distant haze that was still comforting. That made sense since she seemed to be lying in a bed at Ben's clinic. The pillow beneath her head wrinkled with a papery crunch. Beside her, a monitor was beeping in the most annoying pitch possible.

When her eyes finally opened, she could make out the familiar shape of Ben, standing beside her, scribbling on a clipboard. And she couldn't seem to move one of her feet.

"The fuck?" she whispered, pulling absently at the plastic tubes taped to her wrists.

"Caroline!" Ben dropped the clipboard and rushed to hover at the edge of her bed. His hands were warm and gentle as he cradled her jaw, and yet, he was obviously being scientifically objective as he tested her eyes, pointed a penlight at her pupils—measuring and judging and drawing conclusions. He adjusted the angle of the light and made her wince.

"Ow. If I wasn't on what I suspect to be a very high caliber of pain meds, I would be very annoyed by this," she muttered, shying away from the light. It felt like he was stabbing her in the back of her skull. "Nope, still annoyed."

"Well, the next time I get run down by a moped, you can drug me and put me through concussion protocols," he replied.

"Deal." She laughed, or at least, she tried to, but even that slight motion sent waves of knife-sharp agony in a burning line from her chest to her left knee. How could a tiny attempt to move her midsection hurt her knee ?

There was a moment when Caroline could almost see the doctor part of Ben's brain shut off and he was just a man who was frightened. He dropped down, kissing her feather-soft, and even though the muscles in her right arm screamed in protest, she reached up, grabbed the front of his T-shirt, and urged him closer. She had missed his mouth, his kiss, the way he tasted like cinnamon, that pine and spice smell.

For a moment, she didn't hurt. She didn't worry. All she could feel was the warmth and peace of being held by Ben. And she was happy. She wanted to wallow in that happiness, make it last, make it theirs, but all too soon, he was pulling his mouth away from hers to gently lean his forehead against hers.

And the selfish, post-near-death-experience-hormonally-fused part of her brain screamed for her to demand more kisses, maybe even nudity.

"You scared me," he breathed against her lips. "I almost lost you, Caroline. It happened right in front of me, and I couldn't stop it. Please don't ever—I almost lost you. Again. "

The agony in his voice was so profound, Caroline couldn't help but think of the woman on the cliff, the bewildered grief as she fell into nothing and knew she would never see her Emmett again. What Caroline had seen was that woman's memory, not a dream. Caroline knew that now. She just didn't know what to make of it. But she would do whatever it took to not feel that loss, to keep Ben from feeling that way, even if it meant facing down whatever the hell was happening in her life at the moment.

He kissed her again, pressing a tiny bit more of his weight down on her and she grunted in pain. It seemed to startle him, and he pulled away from her. The doctor mask fell into place again, and he was all business. He sat back, looking her over.

"All things considered, you're doing pretty well," Ben told her. "Nasty bump to the head from where you fell back against the sidewalk. The moped clipped your ribs pretty good. Couple of them are cracked and a few are broken. That's going to require you to wrap them every day until they heal up. You've got a sprained ankle, a wrist that's not quite sprained but definitely strained , and a heck of a road rash, with which you will become familiar over the next couple of days. That and a veritable rainbow of bruising."

"That all tracks," she said, nodding and regretting it deeply. Ow.

Being so close to him twice during a crisis while he showed her nothing but how much he cared about her, wanted her safe—well, it helped break down those awkward walls that remained between them. It was hard to keep someone at a distance once he'd seen her "rainbow of bruising."

Ben sighed. "Now comes the awkward part. My daughter is the one who hit you. Considering our, uh, history, and the fact that it was my minor child that hit you, I wouldn't blame you if you asked to have your care transferred to another doctor—while you and your lawyer prepare for the inevitable lawsuit. Between the injuries and me kissing you while you're my patient, I wouldn't blame you."

She scoffed—again, fucking ow . "How exactly are you going to transfer my care to another doctor? Dr. Toller is the only other doctor on the island, and he just announced that he's on vacation for the next week."

"You know about that, huh?" Ben asked.

"He was very enthusiastic about announcing that the other night at the bar—The bar! My mom!" Caroline exclaimed. Out of instinct, she tried to sit up so she could get to her mother, but that fire returned, burning her whole body with agony. She shrieked.

"Take it easy," Ben told her, helping her settle back on the bed while she breathed through the pain.

"That was a mistake," she wheezed.

"It's going to be a while before your brain adjusts to the reality of what your body has been through. And I don't know, I could pay a friend to come stay and treat you while you recover." Ben said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "And your mom is fine. She's actually sitting with my kids at the moment, convincing Mina that her life isn't over and she won't be blacklisted from colleges for being a murderous criminal."

"You left your child with my mom, with the goal of encouraging said child?" She laughed, and the pain shooting down from her ribs to her legs stole her breath all over again. Dammit, she had to stop doing that. After a few moments, she was able to concentrate enough to speak, and said, "Please assure Mina that I'm not dead, so she's at least not a murderer. And I'm not suing you, either. Your kid made a mistake. It happens. And I saw the look on her face right before she ran me down. I think she's scared herself so badly, you're not even going to have to yell that loud."

"Too late," he said, looking faintly chagrined. "Already did it. She wasn't supposed to be driving the damned moped at all, much less near Main Square. She was just so excited when our moving pods finally came over on the ferry. And she's hardheaded when it comes to learning new things, like driving on wet, worn stones."

"Wonder where she gets that?" Caroline snorted.

"It's a mystery," Ben told her. "Anyway, Mina shouldn't have been riding somewhere unfamiliar, and she definitely shouldn't have been riding toward people. She won't be driving anything with a motor in the near future."

"Don't be too hard on her," Caroline told him.

"Well, either way, I'll make sure all your medical care is covered, even if I'm not the one providing it," he assured her. "And you will have everything you need at home, and at the bar, until you're back on your feet."

Her brows rose, and it was the first physical reaction she'd had all night that didn't burn like poison. "What does that mean?"

"Hey Caroline, good to see you conscious." Samantha Vermeer poked her head through the door, her stethoscope swinging around her neck in time with her long dark bob.

"Samantha, sorry, I can't wave," Caroline said, grinning at her.

"Well, since this one can't see other patients today, your state of emergency is turning my day an interesting shade of anarchy," Samantha told her. "And you're gonna want to let the family in before they take the waiting room apart."

"Oh…no," Caroline breathed. "My family."

"Do you want to let them in?" Ben asked.

"I guess so," Caroline sighed. To her surprise, when the door opened, it wasn't her parents or loud-ass brothers, it was Riley, Edison, and Alice. Her family. She smiled happily as Alice and Riley flung themselves through the door.

"Gentle!" Ben cautioned them as they tried to slip through the maze of medical equipment for something like a hug.

"We understand, Doctor," Alice assured him, even as she cradled her cheek against Caroline's shoulder. Riley was quiet, pressing Caroline's uninjured hand against her face and her forehead against Caroline's collarbone.

Caroline could only imagine the panic that Riley felt, seeing the aftermath of another loved one's serious automotive accident. "I'm sorry," Caroline whispered.

"Nope, she who is struck by a motor vehicle does not apologize," Riley told her.

"It was hardly a motor vehicle ," Caroline said.

"And yet, we're still going to count it," Edison said, carefully sliding in for his own half hug, pressing his shoulder to her less-injured side.

Caroline absently patted his arm. "Aw, we hug now?"

"Three near-death experiences and you get a hug for free," Edison told her.

When she frowned, he added, "I'm counting the thing with the ceiling"—he paused and glanced up at Ben—"squirrel."

Caroline pursed her lips. "Fair."

"You have fifteen minutes." Ben leveled a stern look at Riley and Alice. "Try not to wear her out too much."

"Plover is beside himself. He really resents that he can't come visit too. And he sends these." Riley placed a vase of pansies in a rainbow of colors on the little hospital table. And a box of chamomile tea.

"We have our own tea here," Ben noted as he checked the IV bag hanging over Caroline's head. He made some adjustment, and Caroline swore she could feel the warmth of something being released into the space near the line in her arm.

"Yes, but pansies mean ‘You occupy my thoughts,'" Riley said, sniffing.

"And chamomile means ‘energy in adversity,' which is Plover's way of saying ‘Don't let the bastards get you down.'" Caroline added, grinning loopily. Yep, something had definitely been released into her arm.

"Yeah, Starfall Blooms did not stock fresh chamomile flowers for emergency one-hour deliveries," Riley said, her face finally relaxing enough to smile. "Weird. Plover wanted me to add eucalyptus for protection, but I thought that would be a little smell-forward for an enclosed medical space."

"Thank you, that was considerate," Ben said, nodding.

But apparently, Caroline's mouth wasn't empty yet, because she was still talking. "Even though Plover would never curse and neither one of us would ever want to imply that Mina is a bastard. She's a nice kid."

Everybody seemed to be staring at her.

"Have I mentioned I'm on drugs?" Caroline asked.

Ben had a confused look on his face. Oh, no, did she not say what she thought she did? His lips twitched slightly as he wrote something on his clipboard. "Got it."

She smiled. "Tell Plover thank you for me."

"I will," Riley said, nodding toward a large arrangement of sunflowers Edison placed on the table beside the pansies. She didn't sound super pleased about it, to be honest. "Margaret came by earlier and left you those."

"Twelve minutes," Ben told them, his tone serious as he closed the door behind him.

For one of those minutes, the three visitors just sat there quietly. Caroline realized the depth of how badly she'd scared her friends and was struck with a wave of guilt, knowing the strain she'd put on them, and then, no small amount of gratitude that she had people in her life to worry about her like that.

Outside her door, she heard Ben ask someone, "Who's Plover? I've lived on this island my entire life and I've never met a Plover."

There was a note of jealousy in his voice, and Caroline didn't want to process the shame she felt at being happy about that.

Finally, Riley said, "I had to force your mom out of here, to take care of poor Mina. It got…very loud. I was sort of shocked it didn't wake you from your mini-coma."

Caroline winced. Margaret had been right about Riley being skittish around her, but not for the reasons Edison's assistant suspected. With all the issues with her own mother, Riley didn't have a lot of room in her life for warm, friendly grandmotherly types. It reminded Riley of everything she didn't have, and wouldn't ever have, now that Ellen Denton had definitively moved on to the next plane. Riley was much more comfortable with no-nonsense, withholding women like Gert Wilton. It was, by some cruel trick of fate, Riley's wheelhouse.

"Sorry about that. And it was more than a mini-coma. I had… I think it was a vision. I was another woman. I don't know her name or who she was, but I was standing at the top of Vixen's Fall. And someone ran out of the shadows and shoved me into the water. I think she knew who pushed her, but I didn't see who it was. And I died. I don't know if I drowned or died from the impact with the water or even a rock, maybe, but I was dead. And I died with a lot of regret."

"Do you think it was a ghost reaching out to you?" Riley asked, frowning. "Seems sort of weird, attacking you with a moped to do it."

Caroline shook her head. "She felt a lot older than the moped, so I doubt it was attached to it."

"Are you sure it's not just some dream you had because you spent the better part of an hour staring at my sketch of Vixen's Fall?" Riley asked, frowning. "Your brain's way of processing the trauma?"

Caroline considered that for as long as the drugs would allow. "It could be the head injury talking, but it didn't feel like a dream."

"Maybe it's connected to the purple lady in the bar?" Alice suggested.

"It feels…like it's connected to me," Caroline said. "And I know that sounds weirdly conceited, but it just does."

"Well, you were the one hit with the moped," Edison noted.

"It just feels important, all of it," Caroline said, yawning. "And maybe the purple lady…maybe it's about her, too."

While she blinked off to sleep, Caroline stared at the flowers at her bedside. Sunflowers, while cheerful, meant "false riches." Caroline wondered what Plover would have made of that.

***

It had taken many promises from Riley, Alice, and Caroline herself to keep Caroline away from the Rose before Ben would allow her to go home. Both women agreed to sleep over at Caroline's tidy little bungalow down the hill from the Wiltons' larger house, Caroline's great-grandparents' answer to a mother-in-law suite. Riley would have gladly taken Caroline to Shaddow House for full supervision—something Plover almost demanded—but with Caroline's ankle, there were just too many stairs for her to stay there.

The two of them checked on her and fed her regularly. They'd agreed to help her with the daily ritual of unwrapping the bandages around her ribs for her shower. This morning's episode had been colorful both in language and in contusions, but she was comfortable—at ease on the sage-green couch she'd specifically chosen for its squishiness and "reading position back support."

Even when Ben stopped by with his kids in tow, to relieve her friends from duty and prevent her from trying to join her mother in the Rose cleanup effort, she stayed calm. When Josh handed her roses with hands that looked exactly like his father's, she'd shrugged it off. But then Mina, who was basically Ben reborn with his big hazel eyes and fine-boned features, started to cry, and Caroline lost her composure.

Mina looked just as pasty pale as she had at the scene of the accident, her remorse obviously genuine as she whispered, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for hitting you. I'm so sorry this is how we're meeting. The bike just got away from me—the roads are never this slick in Phoenix—and I couldn't control it, and the next thing I knew, you were standing in front of me and everything seemed to get so loud all at once and I swear I saw—"

"It's OK," Caroline reached out with her untethered hand and wrapped it around Mina's cold fingers. A warm electric sizzle ran up Caroline's arm, to her chest, and in her addled state, her first thought was that it was a blood clot or a cardiac incident with offbeat comic timing. But then she remembered the flavor of this particular sensation—strange and alien, yes, but not scary. It was the feeling of coming home. She'd felt it when she'd touched Riley's shoulder that first time, the same moment that Alice had touched her hand. The three of them touching physically had cemented their magic, something they hadn't realized until weeks later.

Did this mean Mina had magic, too? What did this mean for Riley and Alice? Ugh, her head hurt too much to try to figure this out on her own. Josh sort of lurked in the background, observing the scene with a solemn expression. Caroline respected that. She'd learned more eavesdropping at the bar than she had in all her years of school.

For her part, Mina only looked confused at the zap. Caroline understood the desire to write this feeling off as static electricity or nerves.

"You didn't mean to do it, and I'm going to bet that you will be the most careful driver on the island for years to come," Caroline told her, as Mina nodded tearfully.

"I don't think that I'm going to drive again, ever," Mina swore.

"Well, then you moved to the right place," Caroline replied, making Josh snicker. Mina glared at her brother, but the tension in her narrow shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

Ben eased Mina away so he could do the super-rude penlight stuff to her eyes again. And to Caroline's shock, Josh went to her sink and began putting away the breakfast dishes Riley had left on the drying rack.

"Um, the tall one is putting away my dishes," Caroline noted as Ben checked the swelling on her ankle. "Why is the tall one putting away my dishes?"

"Because he's the only one who can reach the high cabinets?" Mina suggested, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth for the first time since she'd entered the house. "And you have a splint on your wrist."

"And because for the next several weeks, my kids are going to be your arms and legs, so to speak," Ben told her.

"It's an appropriately ironic punishment for Mina," Josh told her cheerfully. Mina looked like she wanted to hiss at him but hid her face behind her curtain of dark hair. "And I'm coming along because when I'm left unsupervised for too long…bad things happen."

"But that's—What about school?" Caroline spluttered.

"We're registered for in-person for the fall. But it's sort of too late for us to join classes this year, so we're wrapping up the spring online," Josh said. "Mina actually prefers it."

Mina waggled her head back and forth. "I'm a self-starter."

Caroline asked, "But what about when I go back to work?"

"Um, that's not going to be a consideration for several weeks," Ben insisted. "I doubt you'll be back on your feet before the repairs to the Rose are completed. We went over this when you were released. With your ribs, you can't lift anything heavier than a cup of coffee. You can't put weight on your ankle. You can't bend. You can't move too fast. Hell, if I could, I would forbid you from sneezing too hard."

"Not sure how she would prevent that, Dad," Josh said, pressing the Brew button on her coffeepot. A few seconds later, the smell of percolating water hitting grounds filled her kitchen.

"What the useful and tall brewer of life-giving coffee said." Caroline pointed at Josh. He grinned at her.

"I didn't say it was a rational direction," Ben admitted. "So, for now, my kids are going to help you around the house. And when it reopens, around the bar. Mina in particular will work until she repays the approximate cost of what you would have been charged if you had to pay for medical treatment as a result of the accident."

"And she's agreed to this?" Caroline asked.

"I don't love it, but there's a certain karmic balance to it," Mina grumbled.

"This feels weirdly unethical… Isn't this how that fake pilot in Seinfeld started?" Caroline asked.

"I just need adult supervision while Dad's working—because again, bad things—and besides, hanging around a bar can only help my new-kid street cred," Josh told her.

"No," Ben said, shaking his head.

"What's Seinfeld ?" Mina asked.

"Oh my god!" Caroline yelped. "What have you been teaching this child?"

"I'm not a child. What's Seinfeld ?" Mina asked again, the rosy color slowly returning to her face.

Ben scrubbed his hand over his face, but behind his fingers, Caroline could see the beginnings of a smile. "You know, out of everything that's happened today, this is the most mortifying."

"Well, clearly, my first task is pop culture education," Caroline gasped. "Ben, how could you?"

Both kids looked a little uncomfortable at Caroline's raised voice, so she decided to dial it back a notch, even if she was just joking. It wouldn't do to make the kids uneasy when she was apparently going to be supervising them for the foreseeable future.

Wait, did she just agree to be Ben's nanny?

"Mina likes to read ," Josh told Caroline. "She didn't make her Netflix profile until we moved to the island."

"I will make you a watch list," Caroline told Mina. "And a booklist, because I see how you're eying my shelves there, girly."

"There's just so many of them," Mina said, making subtle grabby hands toward the sage-green floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that Caroline had installed herself.

Caroline laughed and then regretted it. "My mom's always said that if this half of the island slides into the lake, it'll be from the weight of my books."

It was as if speaking her mom's name had summoned her. Gert bustled into the house, holding a covered dish with her right hand because her left arm was in a sling. Will and Wally trailed in behind her, empty-handed. Ben's brows arched as she crossed into the kitchen and preheated the oven.

"Mom, what happened to your arm?" Caroline cried. "Why did I not notice the sling before?"

"Uh, she may have hurt her shoulder when you yanked her out of imminent danger and threw her on the ground," Mina said, chewing her lip.

"It's not a big deal," Gert insisted from the stove. "It's just a mild sprain."

Caroline looked to Ben, and he shook his head.

"Should you even be carrying a hot dish around?" Caroline asked, trying to sit up and wincing at the pain radiating up her middle. When was that going to stop?

Gert waved her good arm. "It's fine."

"You couldn't have carried the dish?" Caroline glared at Will, who flopped into an oversized cream-colored armchair while Wally nudged at Caroline's feet.

"Budge up, will ya?" Wally said, tapping at her uninjured foot.

"Um, no?" Ben said, frowning at him. "She needs to keep that ankle elevated."

Wally just blinked at Ben, as if he didn't understand the words coming out of Ben's mouth.

"Your dad said he'll be by in a few days," Gert said, sliding the casserole in the oven.

"A few days?" Mina said, frowning.

"He just can't see you this way," Gert told Caroline, ignoring Mina. "Once the bruises heal up a bit, he'll be ready."

"I could be back at work by then," Caroline mused.

"No, you won't," Ben told her, making Caroline roll her eyes.

"Yeah, this really isn't a great time for you to be laid up," Will said, yawning. "With so much going on at the bar, we could really use you."

"Well, if it happens again, I'll try to be run down by a moped at a more convenient time," Caroline snapped. Mina deflated a little at her side, prompting Caroline to pat her shoulder. That same electric sizzle ran up her arm. Mina blinked at her but said nothing.

"That would help," Will sighed, completely obtuse.

"Look, guys, you're just gonna have to maybe pitch in a little more at the bar while I'm out," Caroline told them. She heard her mother moving around the kitchen, not really accomplishing much, but also not engaging in the conversation. "Especially if Mom's not at one hundred percent."

"Hey, I've got stuff going on at home," Will objected.

"Like what?" Caroline asked.

"Tabby's been working extra shifts at the hotel," Will said. "Something about the manager freaking out because the owner is coming in for an inspection soon. And that means I have to do the cooking for us at home!"

"You're a cook at the bar ," she reminded him.

Will shrugged. "Yeah, well it's different at home, and I have to do the laundry."

"Yes, these are things that most adult people manage to do to take care of themselves while also working. Figure it out," Caroline said.

She looked to her mother, who was still busy in the kitchen, as if she was in a one-woman show about a kitchen-cleaning mime.

"Ugh, why do you make things so hard?" Will groaned, pushing himself out of his chair. He practically flounced out of the house. Wally, who had never managed to figure out where to sit, shrugged at Caroline and followed his twin out.

Her mom walked over to the couch and smoothed Caroline's hair back from the patch of road rash on her forehead. "You know how stubborn Will is. You're just so good at taking care of these things."

"Yes, but I physically can't. I am literally under doctor's orders. And really, you shouldn't be doing much either," Caroline said. "You're just going to have to ask Will or Wally to do it."

"She's right," Ben added. "I'm willing to give you a print version of the doctor's orders. In great big font."

"They're not going to be happy about it," Gert sighed.

Caroline waved her good arm. "And yet, here we are. Ow."

Gert patted Caroline's shoulder. "Get some rest, Caroline."

Her mother ambled out of the cottage, leaving Caroline to stew in embarrassed silence until Mina observed, "Your family kind of sucks."

"Mina!" Ben barked.

"It's OK," Caroline sighed as Ben pulled a fluffy green blanket—a gift from Edison—over her legs.

"Don't tell us that they mean well," Josh told Caroline, carrying her favorite I could be reading, but you keep talking mug to her. How had he known that was her favorite? "That's something that we learned in therapy—that making excuses for people doesn't make them better. Or make you feel better. It just lets the sucky situation go on longer."

"The tall bearer of coffee makes sense," Caroline said, smiling despite herself.

Josh held up his hands. "I usually do, and everybody's always surprised when it happens."