Of the Trees(77)

The forest beckoned to her. A gentle wind blew through stripped branches, deceivingly innocent. She crossed the road, her purse slung over her shoulder. The asphalt was solid under her feet. She stopped at the other side, her toes nudging the curb.

Aidan’s face stared back at her from a poster tacked to the tree nearest her, his eyes, so realistic because she had insisted, glared. She looked past it, letting her gaze followed the secret paths of the forest, dart past trees and skip over fallen limbs. Part of her ached to follow, to run and stamp through the underbrush, crushing the ferns to pulp and inhaling the resin of the dormant pines. She missed the treks with Laney, missed hiking the trails with Ryan. She hadn’t realized how much comfort she had drawn from the forest’s embrace. She hated that she now feared it.

“You’ll be able to go in again.”

Cassie didn’t startle when she heard him speak, not even registering the soft pad of his sneakers on the pavement until she had heard his words. She smiled, her eyes still tracing paths through the trees.

“You think?” she asked Ryan. She didn’t need to turn to know he nodded.

“You love it in there,” he said. “It will feel right again someday, feel safe, to go back.”

“I didn’t hear your car.”

“I know,” he answered simply. “I saw you over here, knew what you must be thinking.”

“I can’t stand the thought that this has been taken away from me forever,” she admitted quietly. “I really did love it.”

“You still do,” he corrected. His tone was chastising though gentle. “It can be yours again if you want it. I’ll help.”

She nodded and stepped over the curb. She stared at the poster nailed to the nearest tree. It fluttered in the wind as she approached, his eyes seeming to search her out. Even as a black and white sketch, he was menacing. The grass was soft under her feet—wet from the misty weather they had had lately. A branch snapped under her foot as she moved forward. She flinched but extended her arm. The paper was thin and came away in her hands easily. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the nearest clump of beech trees.

She turned to find Ryan watching her, eyebrows raised. “One step at a time, right?” she said.

He smiled and nodded toward his car. Cassie followed.

Cassie went with Ryan to the carnival. She knew the moment they parked that Laney wouldn’t be there. Cassie could feel it. The dust and scents of popcorn that saturated the air were all familiar, but it lacked something, some note of danger, of the unexpected that Cassie knew arose from the carnies that took Laney. Whenever they were around, Cassie felt watched. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her gut churned in the expectation of something wrong about to happen.

She didn’t feel any of that at the carnival. They wandered around. It was so unlike the night they spent together just a month before, wandering through the games, laughing, Jon and Laney teasing Cassie over Ryan. Ryan had been tentative with her. Now her hand was wrapped in his tightly. He led her around, hovering near her as she watched the carnival attendants.

The men weren’t the same. She wasn’t surprised.

“Nobody?” Ryan asked after their first walk through. She shook her head. “Once more around then, just to make sure.”

They left after their second round of watching the carnival barkers. Ryan drove them an hour away to another carnival operating that night. It wasn’t the same company as the one that had come to their town, but Ryan speculated that maybe the carnies jumped companies after abducting Laney. Cassie didn’t mind tagging along.

It was nice in his car. Warm, quiet. They spoke softly of normal things, looking to the future as though the one they had planned could actually still exist. He didn’t ask if she wanted to come on his summer-long hike and she didn’t mention how much she would miss him. He asked her about softball, and when practices would start. Her stomach clenched at the thought of playing without Jessica, how large that hole would seem once they were all together again and their first baseman was notably missing. But she didn’t say it. She told him after winter break, that’s when they normally started pulling back together. She laughed off his question when he asked if she still wanted to go for Captain, and he teased her that he’d still come watch her play even if she wasn’t. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Sure you will,” she said, “just when the trails are opening again. You’re going to waste your time watching me get dirty and gross instead of working on that hike?”

“I’ve seen you dirty and gross before,” he retorted. “Hasn’t put me off yet.”

“I suppose you could just hike up and down the side of the field,” she mused, trying to hold back her grin. “I mean, everyone will think you’re crazy, but—”

“Crazy for you,” he interrupted, waggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed. “Do you think they know?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone knows you’re insane.”

“Obviously,” he answered dryly. “But no, I meant about us.”

“Us?” Cassie asked, watching his reaction.

“Yeah, that we’re,” he broke off, looking over at her. She bit her lip against a grin. “I mean, we are, aren’t we?”

“What, you mean kissing but not talking about it?” Cassie asked. He shot her a glare, and she burst out laughing. He huffed, watching the road, but she could see that he was fighting a smile. “So, what have you told them?”