Beautifully Broken Pieces (Sutter Lake, #1)(2)
I pushed myself faster until I could no longer hear my friends.
Our rented SUV hugged the curves of the mountain road as we headed away from the peaks towards town. An old-timey sign declared Welcome To Sutter Lake in white lettering. My eyes traveled down Main Street, taking in the storefronts that looked like they had been frozen in Old West times, complete with hitching posts in front of most of them. Baskets of bright blooms hung from each street sign, and benches sat in shady spots below trees with vibrant green leaves.
Austin pulled into a parking spot in front of an old-fashioned saloon. No parking meter. That was different from the two cities I’d most recently called home. I released my seat belt and pushed open my door. We’d been told by the woman who rented us the vacation home that the saloon had the best burgers in a hundred-mile radius. I doubted anything could beat In-N-Out, but I was willing to do some research to find out.
Carter stepped up next to me, squeezing my shoulder. “This place is so cute, right?”
I fought the urge to shake off her hand. The overabundance of comforting gestures lately had begun to make my skin crawl. “The cutest.”
Austin pulled his wife to his side, brushing his lips against her brow. “What I care about is how good the burgers are.”
“And the beer. Don’t forget the beer,” Liam called.
We pushed through the pair of swinging doors and made our way to the hostess station. A young girl, probably high-school aged, stood behind a podium. “How many—?” Her words cut off as her eyes bugged out. “Y-y-you’re Liam Fairchild.”
It was funny, I so often forgot that Liam was a celebrity. It wasn’t until we were in situations like these that I remembered he was a world-famous musician.
Liam put his charming-bugger smile in place. “That I am, darling. But what do you say we keep that little secret between us? Wouldn’t want my vacation hideout to get discovered.” The girl nodded vigorously. “I’d be happy to sign something for you if you’d like.”
“That would be awesome,” she whispered and then fumbled for a paper and pen.
While Liam made the young girl’s year, I studied the space. The Old West theme continued with wagon wheels and wood signs decorating the walls. The combination restaurant and bar was about half full, most inhabitants opting for one of the cozy booths that hugged the outskirts of the room.
My eyes continued on towards the bar area and stuttered on two men eating lunch and watching some sports thing on the TV in the corner. They were both well-built. One blond. One with hair so dark brown, it was almost black. The second man threw his head back, letting out a bellow of laughter that was so rich and carefree, it hit me right in the chest. Would I ever laugh like that again? Like I had no worries in the world?
Someone bumped into my shoulder. “Enjoying a little eye candy?”
I grimaced at Liam. “No. Are you done fulfilling every teenage fangirl’s dream?”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders to lead me towards the table that Carter and Austin were already seated at. “It’s a heavy burden being America’s sweetheart.”
“America’s sweetheart is Julia Roberts, you jackass,” Austin called from the table.
I let my friends’ voices fade into background noise as I twisted to get one more peek at the man with the captivating laugh—but he was already gone.
2
Taylor
The smell of antiseptic stung my nostrils as that damned beep, beep, beep sounded in my ears. “I love you to the moon and back, my sweet girl.” My mother’s voice was haggard and rough. Then, there was silence. That dreaded silence that meant she was gone.
My eyes shot open. The covers seemed to suffocate me as I struggled to get free. Finally, I was able to extricate myself from the tangled mess. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, trying to slow my breathing and steady my heart rate. I needed air.
I stood on shaky legs, making my way through the darkened cabin towards the back deck. My t-shirt, damp with sweat, clung to my back. If I were alone, I would have torn the damned thing off.
Sliding the door open and moving forward, my feet touched chilly planks. I gripped the railing, bending to press my forehead against it. The cool mountain air rushed over me, calming my overheated skin, and the sweet smell on the breeze seemed to ease my panicked breaths. Slowly, my heart rate began to return to normal.
I straightened and tipped my face up to the sky. The stars were so bright here. I’d never seen anything like it. No ambient city lights to dull their shine. “Mom, are you up there?” I mouthed the words to the silent breeze as tears pricked the backs of my eyes. What I wanted more than anything was a promise that I would be reunited with her one day. In Heaven, in the stars, anywhere I could feel her presence.
The pastor at my mom’s memorial service had promised that she was in a better place. But how did he know for sure? I prayed to God and the Universe for a sign constantly. Anything that would let me know she was at peace. That I would see her again. I never got a damn thing, and I was looking.
I blew out a long breath and settled myself in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. The sounds of a bubbling creek nearby, crickets chirping, and the blades of the rocker hitting the boards of the deck were my only companions. It was kind of perfect. It was quiet, without the deafening silence of my nightmares.