Dark Earth

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Rowan spent the night in the hospital. They stitched together her scalp and gave her plenty of pain medication for the concussion. I just paced back and forth when I wasn't with her.

I chewed my nails, I clenched my fists, and I felt like pulling my hair out in reaction to the many emotions rushing through me. I realized that my hand ached, blaming it on the recurring soreness I had in my left wrist. Ever since the car accident, I had a few lasting reminders.

A sore wrist from where it had broken, the occasional ache in my ribs from where they had been broken, and the scar on my right hand, going through the middle of my palm to the back of my hand.

This time, though, my fingers were swollen, so it had nothing to do with the past injury. Since we were at the hospital, I asked a nurse to check it out. Neatly an hour later I had a splint on the first two fingers on my left hand; I had broken them tackling the would-be assassin.

Adrenaline is an amazing thing, numbing an injury that a few hours later felt like it would be impossible to ignore.

I couldn't figure out what the deal was with the man who attacked us, nor why every time I thought about him something bothered me, like I should known him. The cops had questioned me at length, taking the pistol on the floor as well as some of the blood that he had dripped all over the floor and the stove.

They even dug the bullet out of the floor. Somehow through it all, even though we had been attacked, they made me feel like I was guilty for it. The tone of their questions and the questions themselves haunted me, making me second-guess myself even though I knew I was right. I was still wondering if I had told them everything, they left still acting like I was hiding something from them.

Moose was dead. We had large windows in the house and they were often open to let fresh air in. It had been warm all week so our windows had been open. The intruder had cut through the screen and shot the dog, which had been what caused Ro to scream.

Holding her at gunpoint, he emerged out into the main room. I'm certain now his intent had been to keep her hostage to make sure he knew where I was, then shoot us both.

I kept running the words he had spoken to me through my head, 'I'm truly sorry,' wondering what the point of that was?

He tried to kill my daughter; no amount of 'sorry' would ever come close to making up for that.

The fact that he did kill our dog was a painful reminder that his attack had been serious. Our privacy and security had been violated, out best friend taken from us; how could we ever feel safe again?

I had to call Tom the next day. Tom Ryes was my first mate and best friend. I let him know that we wouldn't be going out that week, and ended up telling him everything. One of his sons Emmett has been Rowan's best friend ever since they were in diapers.

Rowan and I ended up heading over there after we took care of a few things at home. After spending some time there I tried to leave Ro behind, but she knew I was trying to get away. She must have sensed it in my attitude, because I found her following me even as I thought I had made a clean getaway.

"Where are you going?" she asked. She wore a ball cap to hide where they had to shave a small section of hair to bandage the stitches. But the lost look on her face and the weakness in her voice pulled at me.

"I just need to run a few errands," I lied. Technically it was an errand, but it still felt like a lie. She nodded, but stood there staring at the ground. "Ro..." I didn't know what to say...

"Can I come?"

I sighed. "It's paperwork, Princes, you'll get bored."

"I could use a little boredom. Besides," she added, "I want to say goodbye to him."

Opening and closing my mouth, I just stared at her. How did she know?

"All right, come on," I told her, turning and opening my truck door.

She hurried around to the other side, her arms hugging herself as though she was cold. It was cool out, but she had a warm sweater on.

"Thank you," she said after she had climbed up and buckled her seat belt.

I nodded, unable to think of something to say.

We ended up at our veterinarian. After a brief but very painful wait in the lobby we were escorted back in to see the doctor. He greeted us quietly, offering his condolences on our loss.

Sure, it was only a dog; and I kept telling myself that, but it still left my knees a little weak and my stomach empty. Tears, which she had strongly managed to hold back, rushed down Ro's cheeks when he presented an urn to her.

Rowan took it silently and waited for me to sign some papers. Back in the truck she broke down into sobs and I found my own cheeks wet as well. It was several minutes before she scooted back to her side and I was ready to start up the truck so we could leave.

As much as losing the dog hurt, it was seeing what it did to Rowan that really made me feel like a failure.

Moose had been her friend and confident, the one who was there when I wasn't. I asked her if she would like another dog and she just shook her head, unable to speak.

It was too soon.

Our peace all but gone, Ro and I found comfort in Tom's family. Surrounded by warmth, we sucked it in and tried to remind ourselves that not all of the world was a harsh and cruel place.

She seemed to heal quickly, both inside and out. As in everyrhing she did, i was proud, impressed, and a little bit amazed. But I think Emmett helped a lot.

Her smiles came out more often and she even started to joke with me again, I was envious of it and tried to play along. I had always had a hard time letting go and moving on; the stubborn way i held onto my wife's memory was a fine example of that.

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Hey guys!

Sorry I haven't been able to update, there was a death in the family and I was not able to get around to it, but here you go!❤

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