She froze, unsure what to do. Her thoughts tangled, and an onslaught of irrelevant words burst out of her.
“Oh, not about that. Mostly the harvest, really. I was thinking we should—”
Pavlo cupped her face in his large, calloused hands and pressed his thumbs to her mouth, silencing her rambling. “I can think of nothing but you.”
Everything else faded away as he pressed his lips to hers, and she melted into him, rising up on tiptoe to slide into his embrace.
When he drew back to look into her eyes, she stood motionless, gaping at him with her jaw hanging open. The kiss on the cheek last week might have confused her, but this kiss made the decision for her. She could never deny the feelings surging between them.
“Is that all it takes, Katya? One kiss renders you, the loudest girl I know, speechless?” He laughed as his sandy brown hair ruffled in the breeze. “Perhaps I should have tried that long ago. It would have given me a lot more peace in my life.”
His teasing cost him a hard punch in the arm, and he chuckled as he rubbed the sore spot. “Some things change, and some stay the same. Will you hit me every time I kiss you?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged and smirked. “I haven’t decided yet. And just because I let you kiss me doesn’t mean you should forget that I can still best you in many ways.”
“How could I forget? It’s part of your charm.”
A stream of laughter trickled toward them from a group of men standing outside the party, and Katya bristled at the intrusion into this special moment. “Let’s take a walk and get away from the crowd,” she suggested.
“A walk under the stars with a pretty girl? I can think of nothing I’d rather do.” With a bow, Pavlo held out his elbow, and she rested her hand in the crook of his arm. They strolled along into the peaceful night, and in that moment, Katya was the happiest girl in the world.
3
CASSIE
Wisconsin, May 2004
Two days later, the small house Cassie had called home for the last year and a half was completely packed up, cleaned, and ready to be locked down. It helped that she and Henry had put all the extras—golf clubs, fancy china, and wedding gifts they’d never used—in storage before they’d moved in.
“I called your landlord, Cass. I told him we’d leave the keys on the kitchen counter,” Anna called out as she hauled the last of the kitchen wares out to her car.
“You did? And he was okay with me leaving like this?”
“Oh, yes, he sounds like a very nice man. He said he understood. He can’t refund you for the rest of the month’s rent, of course, but he’ll send you the security deposit once he checks everything over.”
“Thanks.” Cassie shoved a box into the back of the SUV and slammed the trunk.
“Here, give me the keys. I’ll go lock up. You make sure Birdie is buckled in and ready to go.” Anna held out her hand.
Cassie took a deep breath, forced a smile, and complied, because that’s what one did when Anna was running the show. She didn’t want to walk through the house again, anyway. Nothing remained inside but sadness.
Cassie leaned into the back seat. “Hey, little bird, are you ready?”
Birdie nodded once, her eyes wide and shining with excitement.
“Are you glad to be moving back home?” Cassie asked.
Birdie nodded again.
“I think I may be, too. This will be a fresh start for us.” Cassie tugged the seatbelt over Birdie and her booster seat. “Don’t tell Grandma, okay? I don’t want her getting a big head over this.”
Birdie smiled, her chubby cheeks rosy and soft, and Cassie melted. When was the last time she’d seen that sweet smile? How much of Birdie had been lost this past year while Cassie wallowed in her own grief?
“Let’s go!” Anna jogged down the porch steps. “I’ll lead the way and you can follow.”
“Sounds like normal,” Cassie said, as she slid behind the wheel.
Driving had changed for Cassie after Henry’s car accident. Even though he’d done everything right and followed all the rules of the road, someone else hadn’t, and their mistake had cost Henry his life. How can someone left behind get over that fear of the road? Her shrink had a lot of answers, but she didn’t agree with any of them. While driving, her coping mechanism of choice was loud, happy music paired with a white-knuckled death grip on the steering wheel and hyper–vigilance. Her upper back never reclined. She literally sat on the edge of her seat, alert for any possible danger.