"ARI'S FINALLY OUT, I think," Kennedy reported. "Poor thing is exhausted."
From her spot curled up on the sofa, Pru knit her hands. "I still wish she'd eat more than three bites at a time." She looked up as Maggie squeezed her shoulder.
"She'll get there. Everybody grieves differently." Maggie took a seat. "But now that she is effectively out of earshot for a bit, we do need to talk about what we're going to do about her."
Kennedy dropped into a chair. "Even if Mae finds her parents, she doesn't want to go back to them. They left her. There's no evidence they wouldn't do it again."
"I think we can all agree that it's best for Ari if she's kept as stable as possible. But the fact is, with Mom gone, there's no other option for her in the Ridge. The nearest placement would be in Johnson City."
"We're not shipping her off to Johnson City," Athena snarled.
"None of us wants to do that. But let's look at reality. My life is in LA. Yours is in Chicago. That leaves Pru, and as capable as she is, I don't know that she's ready to take on a daughter." Maggie shifted her gaze. "Are you?"
Before Pru could answer, Kennedy interrupted. "Excuse me, it doesn't leave just Pru. I'm here."
Athena sneered. "Oh, excuse us for not automatically assuming you were going to be a contributing member of this family."
Kennedy absorbed the lash of anger, clenching her jaw to keep from fighting back in kind.
"Athena, that's enough." Maggie's warning tone did nothing to dim the hostility radiating through the room.
"No." Kennedy straightened. "You know what, it's fine. This is good. Obviously there are things you all want - probably need - to say to me about this. Maybe it's better to say them and clear the air."
Pru looked from one sister to the next, worry etched on her pretty face. "I don't think that's such a good idea."
"I'd rather have it all laid out at once than put up with this sniping. So go ahead, Athena. You need to vent your spleen about whatever you've been carrying around. Do it. No holds barred."
Her sister's hands curled to fists, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she stared Kennedy down with gray eyes, cold as steel. "You left us," she bit out.
Expecting the accusation didn't make it sting any less. She knew well enough what she'd done. Who she'd done it to.
"You left Maggie in the middle of the biggest upheaval of her life."
Maggie wrapped both arms around her middle in an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. "Athena, stop it. I don't want to drag this up again."
But Pandora's box had been opened. Kennedy couldn't not address it. "I didn't know you were pregnant when I left." But looking back, she'd known something was going on with her sister. The mood swings. The change in appetite. It had been her intention to sit down with Maggie after graduation and get to the bottom of it. Then her life had hit a land mine.
"Right. Of course you didn't." Athena nodded. "Because we couldn't even find you for two months to tell you about the baby. Never mind we were all worried sick about you. And when you did find out, you couldn't be bothered to come home."
"I didn't have the money to come home." It was a weak defense, but it was all Kennedy had. By that time, she'd made it to the West Coast, and her waitress's wages and tips were barely enough to keep a temporary roof over her head. There'd been no money for a bus ticket, and even if there had, she'd been too afraid of what would happen if she violated the terms she'd agreed to.
"Because you were too busy living your self-indulgent, grand adventure. Alone. And what the fuck was that about, leaving Xander behind? Do you know what that did to him?"
"We're not talking about Xander," Kennedy snapped. She could only cope with so much of this at once. "I did everything I could to support Maggie from where I was."
Across the room, Maggie's cheeks went white. "Do you really think phone calls and emails made up for anything? I needed you, Kennedy. If you'd really wanted to, you could've found a way home, the same way you found a way to leave."
They had no idea how much she'd wanted to come home, how much she'd wanted to be there through all of it. Especially after Maggie lost the baby. But nothing Kennedy could do would remove the axe hovering over the back of her neck. Part of the deal she'd made was never telling anyone the secret of why she'd left. Her sisters didn't even know there was a danger to her coming back. If she'd come home sooner, the whole house of cards would've fallen, and the family wouldn't have recovered.
Throat thick with all the things she couldn't say, Kennedy rose from her chair. "I swear to you, I'd have been here if I could."
"Oh bullshit," Athena snarled. "You made a choice. You chose yourself."
"Athena!" Pru's censure did nothing but pull their sister's glare to her.
"What? It's true."
Kennedy swallowed. "Is that really how all of you feel?"
Pru's brown eyes were full of hurt and worry. She pressed her lips together.
"Go ahead," Kennedy told her.
"I...It took Mom dying to get you home."
Guilt spurted through her - that she'd never come clean to her mother, never explained. That Joan had died thinking - well, Kennedy had no idea what Joan had truly thought about her leaving. She hoped like hell Mom hadn't thought it was because of her. And now it was too late. No second chances. She'd learned that those didn't exist. And that was a fact Kennedy would have to live with for the rest of her life.
Shaking with the effort of holding in a scream, she struggled to keep her voice level. "There is no answer or reason I can give you that can make up for my not being here. And I'm sorry. More than you can possibly know. But I'm asking you, for Ari's sake, to try to get past it. I'm not a kid anymore, and I'm here to help with whatever's needed."
"And we appreciate it." Pru's instant show of support helped...a little.
Maggie ran a hand through her hair. "The thing is, you've been...drifting for a decade. You've got no ambition, no training, no career. I know your heart's in the right place, wanting to help with things here, but I'm worried that you're going to end up being more a hindrance than a help."
Never mind that she didn't have an ounce of debt, and she'd successfully lived all over the world on her own merits for a decade. Because she had no home base, few worldly goods, and - thanks to the hurried trip home - almost nothing in savings, of course they'd think she'd be another burden to the family. Because she was the screwup. She always had been. All these years she'd been on her own, she'd managed to move past that, but only a few days home, and she was being shoved back into that box.
That her sisters could so fully believe this cut deep enough to steal her breath. They didn't know her at all. Not anymore. Opening this door had been a mistake. Maybe staying was a mistake, too. They weren't going to forgive her.
Feeling trapped inside the cage of her own rage, Kennedy could hardly breathe. She needed space. She needed to move, to get the hell out of here, away from the accusatory stares before she simply exploded.
She was already halfway across the room before Athena called out after her. "Where the hell are you going?"
Kennedy stopped and turned back. "Why does it matter? As y'all have so blatantly pointed out, I have nothing - no money, no skills, no ambition. I have nothing to contribute to this family but being another burden. So why the hell should you care where I go?"
"Kennedy, please don't leave." God, she hated that Pru felt like she had to beg.
"I promised you I'd stay and see this thing through. I'm not going to break that promise, no matter what you all think of me. But right this second, I need some goddamned space."
On that she headed for the kitchen. At the back door, she didn't hesitate, didn't stop to grab a jacket or a flashlight. Even as she knew she was proving their point, the moment her feet hit the grass, she began to run.
* * *
Xander should've gone home after his beer at Elvira's. It had been a long-ass week and, he should've hit the hay early, tried to catch up on some sleep. He should not have driven out to this spot to indulge in some toxic game of "What if?" Except how could he not, with everybody and their brother asking him about Kennedy?
Xander picked his way down the trail from his old Bronco. If he was going to think about her, he might as well do it in their spot. Where they'd first become true friends and, later, lovers.
Back then, they'd been trespassing. Now, he owned the land that looked out on the valley. That had been some kind of twisted decision, to buy the place when old man Miller died. He'd tried to tell himself it was just practical. The house met his needs, fit in his budget, and the view couldn't be beat. But what did he need with all that acreage of forested mountain? Except as an insulation to his self-imposed solitude, and so he could come here, from time to time, and give in to his self-indulgent memory of the girl he couldn't forget.
He'd always accepted that they were different. Hell, that had been part of the appeal. Kennedy wasn't like anyone else he knew. He'd loved her free spirit, her sense of adventure. She'd always wanted to get out and see the world, and when she'd suggested he defer college for a year to actually do it, he'd jumped at the chance. Anything to spend more time with her. They'd spent hours talking about where they'd go, what they wanted to see and do.
It had been a great dream, one he'd fully intended to execute once they had a legitimate plan, a safety net. She hadn't liked the idea of waiting on that, but she'd agreed. They'd balanced each other - her big dreaming, his practicality. He thought she'd seen that. But in the end, she hadn't been able to bend. Hadn't been able to wait. She'd walked away from him. Run, actually, in the middle of the damned night. Because he'd fucked it up, and she hadn't seen fit to give him a second chance. Straight to heartbreak. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
She'd seen the world, exactly as she'd wanted, and he'd stayed here. Adventures without her hadn't held any appeal. And that had been mostly okay, once he'd accepted she wasn't coming back. He loved Eden's Ridge, loved the Smoky Mountains. He'd gotten used to his life, to the shape of it, without her. Until tragedy had suddenly thrown Kennedy back into his path.
She'd said she was staying. Did she mean it? After what she'd done, could he trust anything she said? Did it even matter?
Given how his traitorous heart had lurched at the possibility, yeah, it mattered. If she was really staying, then he had to find a way to live with her here.
A sound had Xander hesitating on the trail, something that didn't belong amid the quiet rustle of the wind and the calls of the night hunting animals. His finger hovered over the snap on his holster as he listened. Someone was...crying. And he knew. He knew even before he made it to the bottom of the trail, before he saw the slim figure standing at the edge of the overlook, her hair silvered in moonlight.
"Kennedy."
With a tiny shriek, she whirled, stumbling in the dark.
Shit! Xander leapt forward and grabbed her before she could topple over. He yanked her back, wrapping his arms around her and spinning to put himself between her and the sixty foot drop. His heart thundered at the near fall.
"Xander?" she squeaked. Her hands were fisted in his jacket. "What the hell are you doing here?
"Having a minor heart attack. You okay?" Now that the danger was past, he couldn't seem to make himself release her.
"Well, I'm not dead. How did you know I was here?"
"I didn't."
"Then what are you doing here?"
Remembering how good you feel. He was taller and broader than he'd been at eighteen. The body pressed up against his had filled out with subtle curves she hadn't had back then. But they still fit. And that was foolishness.
When he didn't answer, she asked, "Did Pru call you?"
"No." He didn't believe in lying. "I came because I was thinking about you." Even in the dim light, Xander could see the tracks of tears. He had no right to touch her, but he couldn't stop himself from cupping her face and brushing a thumb gently across her cheek. "You've been crying."
Kennedy broke away from him then. The familiar ache settled in his chest as she stepped out of his arms.
"Been doing a lot of that lately." The flippant tone didn't hide the pain beneath her words.
He'd never been able to walk away from her pain. Everything in him itched pull her in and shield her, to soothe the hurts. Once, she'd have let him. But this wasn't his Kennedy. This woman seemed far more like the skittish, mistrustful girl he'd met years ago, after she'd first come to Joan. That was its own kind of punch in the gut. Did she trust him so little now?
"What happened with your sisters?"
She wrapped her arms around her middle. "A fight that's been a long time coming. I gave them free rein to say whatever they needed to say to me, about how I left and how I've lived my life for the past ten years. I don't have a right to get upset that they took me at my word." Turning back to him, she straightened her shoulders. "And you're here, so you might as well get in your licks, too."
As if he was really going to stand here and berate her when she was already hurting? "You want me to kick some puppies, too, while I'm at it?"
"That's more consideration than I deserve. Between you and Maggie, it's a close race as to who has the most reason to hate me. But I was betting on you."
So she hadn't been off all these years thinking she was a hundred percent in the right. It was a thin opening, but one his idiot heart grabbed onto with both hands. "We all felt a lot of things when you left. But I don't think hate was really in the mix." He'd tried for a while, but it hadn't stuck.
"Not so sure you're right about that." Turning away from him, she stared out over the valley, dark now but for a few pinpoints of light from the street lamps on Main Street that never turned off and a handful of security lights here and there. "What was it like for her? Maggie."
He didn't have to ask what she meant. Perfect, over-achiever Maggie Reynolds had wound up pregnant at seventeen. The scandal had rocked Eden's Ridge. And despite her career successes as an adult, there were still people who talked about her as that poor girl who got knocked up in high school. He didn't doubt that subject had come up with her sisters tonight.
"What do you think? It's a small, conservative Southern town. She was ostracized, gossiped about. It didn't help matters when she wouldn't name the father."
She drew in an unsteady breath. "And after she miscarried?"
He didn't sugarcoat it. "She'd lost most of her friends. Athena was in fights every other week over the things people said. I missed a lot of it because I was off to school at UT, but it was pretty hellish. She needed her family."
Kennedy closed her eyes and a few more tears leaked out. "I couldn't come back."
And that was on him. It was long past time for him to apologize. "You've never told them why. Your sisters."
She went rigid. "Excuse me?"
"You've never told them about the fight. About what an ass I was that night."
As fuzzy as the events leading up to it were, Xander still clearly remembered being naked with her in the back of her car and not finding the condoms he'd stowed in the glove box. Cliff Newell had been messing around in there earlier that night and had taken them all. The ass. Xander had put forth all of his inebriated charm to convince her he'd pull out. Kennedy had laughed and reached for her shirt. And Xander hadn't been able to drop it.
No really. How do you not trust me?
She'd tried to put him off, but he'd just kept pushing until she'd snapped.
Excuse me for not being willing to throw away both our futures because you want to get off.
He'd been drunk and horny and so very stupid. If you loved me, you'd trust me.
Never in their entire relationship had he put conditions on her. For someone like her, who'd been in a string of foster homes before she came to Joan, where love and acceptance were withheld for all kinds of reasons, that was a special brand of cruelty. He hadn't thought of that in the moment, but he'd thought of it plenty since.
The adult Kennedy was staring at him, fresh tears still streaking her face. Xander felt his gut twist, remembering the same look on her face from that awful night. If you loved me, you wouldn't ask me to take the chance.
If you loved me. Like, for the first time, she hadn't been down-to-the-bone certain that he'd walk through fire for her. She'd certainly run away for less from many of those previous foster placements.
"I should never have pressured you. Ever. Being drunk was no excuse. And God knows, you were right. What happened to Maggie - that could have been us." When Porter had told him about Maggie's pregnancy, that fact had eaten at him.
"I can't tell you how sorry I am, how much I hated myself for the things I said. I was on your doorstep as soon as I woke up the next day, ready to grovel - hangover and all. But you were gone." And his entire world had been knocked off its axis as he'd realized that what had felt like a stupid fight to him had been so much more for her.
Xander took a step forward, starting to reach for her, to fold her into his arms, but everything in her posture shouted hands off. He curled his hands in on themselves. "Was it really so bad that you had to run away from me? From your family? Didn't you know me better than that?"
