Holly to the jail and book her for kidnapping, assault, attempted murder, and first-degree murder. There was no question her crimes had been premeditated.
Matt met her in her office. “Wow.”
“Right?” Bree asked. “I’m betting psychopath, sociopath, and narcissist.”
“The psych profile should be interesting.” Matt’s head tilted. “Do you need to go home?”
Bree shook her head. “The kids are asleep. I talked to Dana to let her know we were OK.” She looked at her desk. “I should get started on the paperwork.”
Matt grimaced. “The paperwork can wait. You need sleep.”
“Sleep would be nice.” Her arm was still numb from the local anesthetic. “I would really like a shower too.” She sighed. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go home. I need to decompress.” She looked up at him. “Can I come home with you?”
Matt’s eyebrows shot up.
“To sleep,” she specified.
“Of course you can.” He looked a little disappointed.
They didn’t talk on the short ride back to his house. Inside, Matt greeted the dogs and took them out into the yard. He sniffed Brody. “I think Todd gave him a bath. He doesn’t smell like river water.”
He brought the dogs back inside. Greta headed for her bed. Brody came to Bree for a head scratch.
“Come on.” Matt led her back to a guest room. He brought her a pair of sweatpants and a ridiculously large sweatshirt. He taped a plastic bag around her arm to keep her bandage dry. “Keep that out of the spray. Towels are in the bathroom.”
“Thanks.” Bree took a long, hot shower. Then she wandered into the kitchen. Matt’s short hair was damp. He handed her a mug of hot chocolate and a ham sandwich. She finished both in three minutes. “I didn’t even know I was hungry.”
He took her empty dishes. “Go to bed.” He kissed her on the forehead.
Bree slid between the sheets of his guest bed and stared up at the ceiling for an hour. Every second of the night replayed in her mind. Finally, she gave up. Padding barefoot through Matt’s house, holding the waistband of the sweatpants up with one hand, she found his bedroom and knocked softly.
“Yeah,” he answered.
Without a word, she opened the door, crossed the wood floor, and slid into bed with him. “I can’t sleep.”
Matt rolled over and tucked her against him. The solidness of him dispelled her loneliness. She’d never been one to seek the comfort of another. When stressed in the past, she’d always chosen to be alone. But peace settled over her as she curled into his body. Times change, sometimes for the better. With the heavy weight of his arm across her body, Bree finally slept.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Mother’s Day
Sunday morning, Bree and Kayla rode Pumpkin double. Their combined weight wasn’t a problem for the sturdy little horse. He plowed steadily through the meadow. Adam followed on Cowboy, while Luke and Riot took the lead. The more spirited bay gelding tossed his head and pranced. On his back, Luke wore a backpack, its contents bulky.
They crested the hill at the rear of the farm. They stopped near a tall oak tree. Luke stepped off his horse and collected the reins. Adam lifted Kayla down. Bree’s arm was still in a sling, and her dismount wasn’t pretty.
“Are you sure?” Bree asked Kayla and Luke.
They both nodded.
“This was Mom’s favorite place.” Luke wiped a tear from under his eye and set the backpack at his feet. He opened it, took out the wooden box, and handed it to Bree. Did he need her to start?
“Mommy used to bring us here for picnics.” Kayla’s lip trembled. “Can we have a picnic here with her someday?”
“Whenever you want.” Bree swallowed the grapefruit-size lump in her throat and wiped sweat from her forehead. Today felt more like summer than spring.
When Luke had suggested the meadow, Kayla had immediately agreed. Overhead, the tree’s branches were green with fresh spring leaves. The wind swept across the open field. A few early wildflowers swayed. The coolness of the air was a welcome counter against the warmth of the sun.
Bree touched Luke’s arm. “You were right. This is perfect.”
She glanced at each one of them, her family. Her heart swelled. A year ago, she would not have imagined the close bonds they had formed. It was both sad and ironic that Erin’s death had brought them closer. Bree would choose to be grateful that goodness had grown from something so horrible. Happiness was still possible. The sun would continue to shine.