Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
This was just like that day, the day I’d run up this very hill, my heart beating triple time, my love for Kyland a living, breathing thing.
I looked at the rock I’d sat on to make that stupid, stupid list, letting out a small sob as I raced past it.
Kyland, Kyland, Kyland.
What did you do?
God, what did you do?
Go to hell.
I do. Every day. For you.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kyland
A loud banging sounded from my front door. Geez, simmer down. I assumed it was one of the hill folk, but why they were pounding like that, I didn’t know.
I put my paperwork aside and started for my bedroom to get a shirt. I had only put on jeans after my shower. But when the banging grew more insistent, I swore under my breath and turned toward the door. When I pulled it open, surprise caught in my chest. It was Tenleigh and she was standing there, obviously out of breath, her eyes filled with tears.
My heart dropped and I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong. But she held up her hand and took a big, shuddery breath. “You won that scholarship. I didn’t win it, you did.”
I froze, and my breath hitched. We simply stared at each other for what felt like a long time. Finally, I managed, “How’d you know?”
She sagged against the doorframe, her face contorting as if she was going to sob. “You just told me.”
I stared at her, not knowing what to say. Denying it now seemed pointless.
Goddamn it. She was never ever supposed to know that. Ever.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stood looking at her as she gathered herself together. When she finally spoke, she said simply, “Why?”
I shrugged as if it was simple because when you got right down to it, maybe it was. “Because I loved you so desperately. Because I couldn’t leave you here.”
Four Years Earlier
“Kyland Barrett?”
“Yes,” I said way too quickly. I rubbed my sweaty palms over my jean-clad thighs and stood up.
The secretary, a young woman with long blond hair, smiled at me as her eyes slid down my body. I was dressed terribly for this classy, impeccably designed office. I had been afraid to sit down on the light gray couch, worried I’d get some kind of smudge on it. It’s not like I could do anything about that, though. The only clothes I had were old and worn and had been used not only to attend school in but to collect metal, trap badgers, collect wild grapes…
“Mr. Kearney will see you now,” she said as I offered her a small, tight smile.
“Thank you.”
She walked ahead of me down a long hallway, her hips swaying. Our footsteps were soundless on the plush gray carpeting. On the clean, white walls were old-fashioned black-and-white pictures of what must have been the very early days of the coal mines—men in overalls with coal-dust-blackened faces, standing unsmiling at the entrance, having obviously just emerged from the dark earth. I swallowed. Their faces reminded me of the way my father and my brother had looked when they’d returned home each night. And strangely, looking at the photos gave me strength. They’d done what they had to do, every day, out of love and responsibility for the people who waited at home for them to return. They’d sacrificed, and I would too. I pulled in a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. You can do this.
The secretary stopped at a door at the end of the hall and opened it, gesturing me inside. I nodded and walked past her into Edward Kearney’s office. The door closed with a soft click behind me.
“Did you forget to ask me something about the scholarship last night?” Edward Kearney said before he used the golf club in his hand to hit the ball on the floor at his feet. I watched the golf ball travel down the green portion of carpet and clunk softly into the hole at the far end.
I cleared my throat. “I did, sir.” He turned to me, leaning on his golf club. “I, uh, I’m sorry. It was a surprise and I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know you’d come to my home to tell me about the scholarship, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
He furrowed his thick black brows. “Weren’t thinking clearly about what?”
“About the fact that I can’t take it. I want to transfer it to someone else.”
He laughed, a sharp, surprised sound. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I have my own reasons for that, sir, but I figured if I won it, it’s mine to give to someone else if I choose to.”
When Edward Kearney had shown up at my house the night before, I’d been shocked, almost rendered speechless. I had no idea he came to inform the recipient of his or her win in person. I hadn’t been ready. But as soon as he’d left, as soon as that fancy black car had pulled away from my house, I’d gotten myself together and prepared the words I needed to say. And so here I was.