Chapter 20

20

Chloe

Monday came and I was elbow-deep in potting soil, the earthy scent a sharp contrast to the sterile hospital smell that haunted my dreams. Eryn had ordered dozens of mums to decorate the front of Sunshine Acres. She’d said some of the ranch hands had offered to plant them all, but I was excited to get my hands dirty.

My mind had been distracted by Mason all weekend long. Memories of waking up next to him, of the sweet kisses and soft laughter we shared as I snuck out of his room early in the morning. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he touched me . . . the way he took me. I’d never experienced anything like it before.

We’d spent the rest of the weekend apart, trying to keep our distance so he could spend some father-daughter time with Abby and not be distracted. It was a good idea, because every part of me knew that if we’d tried to hang out, I wouldn’t have been able to avoid climbing him like a tree.

I caught myself smiling at the image. God, I was turning into such a sap. I dug my hands into the dirt, forcing myself to focus .

A tiny sprout peeked through the earth, tender and green. “Grow strong,” I murmured, as much to the plant as to myself.

“Hey Chlo.”

Pete’s voice, curt, cut through the morning air like a cold front. I glanced up, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from my forehead with the back of my hand. His shadow loomed before me, blocking out the sun’s warmth.

“Hey, Pete.” My words were careful, measuring the distance that had grown since I turned him down.

“Morning.” His greeting was as clipped as his hair, no trace of the usual friendly banter. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders rigid.

“Something on your mind?” I asked, trying to sound casual while my heart drummed a nervous beat.

“Work.” His one-word answer hung between us, a drawbridge pulled up to keep me out.

“Right.” I turned back to the flowers, focusing on the task at hand. Pete stood there a moment longer, an unreadable statue, then turned on his heel and strode away.

My fingers trailed through the soil, the earthy scent grounding me after Pete’s chilly departure. Then a familiar voice pulled me back to the present.

“Chlo, do we have enough compost for the new flower beds?” Lisa strolled over, her rubber boots squelching softly in the morning dew. Her smile was as bright as the marigolds she tended with such care.

“Yep, just picked up a fresh batch yesterday,” I replied, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease with the simple rhythm of our daily routine. “It’s stacked by the greenhouse.”

“Awesome.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smudging dirt on her cheek. “And Eryn mentioned something about a Harvest Breakfast booth? We’re doing the pumpkin display?”

“Ah, the infamous tower of terror,” I joked, referring to stories I’d heard of last year’s precarious pile of pumpkins. “She wants to go bigger this year. Thinks it’ll be a hit.”

Lisa laughed, her head thrown back in amusement. “Bigger? I hope she doesn’t expect it to be structurally sound.”

“Knowing Eryn, she does.” Our chuckles mingled, floating away on the light breeze.

“Speaking of hits,” said a new voice, smooth as honey and tinged with humor, “I hear the new Hozier-themed yoga class is quite the sensation.”

Caroline sauntered up, a yoga mat rolled under her arm, still flushed from her morning workout. The sunlight caught the auburn highlights in her hair, casting a warm glow around her.

“Hey, Caroline. Feeling zen?” I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

“Absolutely. Until Walker decided to join and spent the session trying to turn every pose into a rodeo stunt.” She rolled her eyes, but the affection in her voice was unmistakable.

“Please tell me someone got that on video,” Lisa chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Caroline winked. “Already uploaded to TikTok. I’ve got a whole highlight reel for those long shifts at the clinic.”

We shared a laugh, the sound carrying across the lawn. For a moment, everything felt lighter, simpler. I wished I could bottle up these slices of everyday joy, keep them close for when shadows loomed too large.

“Alright, ladies,” Lisa announced, clapping her hands together. “I’ve got a date with a wheelbarrow full of mulch. Catch you both later. ”

“Good luck,” I called after her.

Caroline slapped a hand on her forehead. “Ooh, I forgot I wanted to sign up for the mediation class. I better do that now.”

“I can help you with that; I want to fill up my water bottle anyway.”

I stood and followed her up the steps and into the lobby. After washing my hands, I tapped the iPad screen and added Caroline to the new meditation class roster.

“All done!”

“Thanks, Chlo.”

The phone rang.

“Hello, Sunshine Acres,” I answered, pressing the device to my ear and bracing myself for whatever this potential guest might want.

“Katie? It’s you, isn’t it?”

The voice, male and far too familiar, sent shivers down my spine. My grip on the phone tightened, knuckles going white. Katie. No one had called me that in years, not since I left everything behind and started over.

“Who is this?” My voice was a whisper, barely audible above the rustling leaves. I knew the answer. I just refused to believe it was possible.

“Ah, so it is you! I can’t believe it.” There was something chillingly exuberant in his tone.

“Answer me. Who are you?” Fear laced every word, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

“What matters is I found you, Katie. Or Chloe. Or whatever you’re calling yourself these days.”

My knees buckled, and I sank onto the nearest bench, the phone call blurring into a distant roar. This couldn’t be happening. Whittier Falls was supposed to be my sanctuary, my new start where the horrors of my past were just that—past .

“Look, you’ve got the wrong person. There’s no Katie here,” I said with more conviction than I felt.

“Come now, let’s not play games. I’ll be seeing you real soon.”

The line went dead, leaving me clutching a silent phone and wrestling with a tornado of anxiety. How did anyone find me? And who exactly was looking forward to a reunion that filled me with nothing but dread? I could almost feel my carefully constructed world beginning to crack, the darkness I fled creeping in through the fissures.

“Chloe? Hey, you okay?” Caroline’s voice cut through the fog in my mind. I hadn’t heard her approach, but she was sitting next to me now, placing a calming hand on my back.

“Fine.” The word was a reflex, a shield raised so quickly I almost believed it myself. “Just . . . weird call.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You looked like someone walked over your grave. Bad news?”

“Nothing important.” I forced a smile, hoping it reached my too-wide eyes. She didn’t need to know. Couldn’t know. This was my burden, and mine alone.

“Okay . . .” She drew out the word, clearly not convinced. As a doctor, she had that intuition, the ability to sniff out when something was off. But for once, I needed her to be wrong. “If you need to talk?—“

“Really, Caroline, it’s nothing. Probably just a wrong number.”

“Alright, if you say so.” She hesitated but then nodded, giving me a small, reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving me be, the empty lobby giving me room to breathe.

The weight of her concern settled on my shoulders, heavy as the humidity of the approaching afternoon. I watched her go, feeling the fissures in my facade widen with each step she took away from me.

“Stay calm,” I muttered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me. Stay calm, even as the shadows of my past stretched out long fingers, threatening to drag me back into the darkness I’d fought so hard to escape.