Never Let You Go (20 page)

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Authors: Emma Carlson Berne

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Social Themes, #Friendship, #Horror, #General, #Social Issues, #Horror & Ghost Stories

BOOK: Never Let You Go
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They danced for a while, then drifted over for burgers, then danced again. Gradually more and more couples surrounded them and the music grew louder. Megan saw Thomas dancing with Dee, Murray dancing with Sarah, and Isaac dancing with a tall brown-haired girl. On the far steps of the porch, Dave sat next to Mr. Coothy—both of them wearing identical don’t-make-me dance expressions.

Megan thought of nothing but Jordan and the music. She only saw his smiling face and felt his hands on her arms, shoulders,
and waist. He kissed her as they swung closer together, and she laughed with delight.

Gradually, Megan became aware of a disturbance. It was Anna, her hair tumbling down her back and her shirt askew, laughing loudly and trying to grind with Robert, who was holding her to keep her from falling to the ground. Anna’s face was flushed. Her shirt had pulled up in the back and hung too far down her front, exposing her lacy black bra. “Come on,” she was saying. “Come on.” She stretched up, trying to kiss Robert, rubbing her hands across his shoulders and down his arms. He kissed her back, but Megan could tell he was self-conscious with everyone watching.

Megan reached Anna the same time Thomas did. Linda followed behind. Thomas leaned in close, and Megan knew he was trying to smell Anna’s breath for alcohol.

“Anna, honey, you need to cool it,” he said gently.

Anna grinned sloppily. “Uncle Thomas!
You
need to cool it.” She wasn’t slurring her words, but Megan had seen how drunk she could get at parties. She looked like she was on her way to passing out.

Linda wheeled herself closer. “Anna, you’re drunk,” she said sharply.

Megan drew in her breath.
Linda, stay out of this. She could get ugly.

“Shut up, you crippled—”

Megan pushed her way over and grabbed Anna’s hand, wincing at the hurt on Linda’s face.

“It’s all right, Linda. I’ll just—” What Megan was going to do she didn’t know, but she needed to get Anna away from this situation before things got even worse. “I’ll just help Anna fix her hair,” she finished lamely, and led her friend inside the house to the bathroom.

“What is going on with you?” Megan hissed as soon as they were alone. She tried to detangle Anna’s long locks with her fingers. “How did you get booze in here?” But even as she spoke, she realized that she still didn’t smell alcohol on her friend. And Anna’s eyes weren’t glazed or glassy. On the contrary, they were sharply alert.

Anna straightened her shirt. “Why are you getting in the way of my fun? I’m just having a good time, and now you’re over here mommying me.”

“I just . . . well, you said that thing to Linda. And Thomas was getting mad.”
And everyone here is looking at you.

“So?” Anna challenged her. “How do you know he’s not mad at you, too?”

Megan blinked, taken aback. “I’m not the one making out all over the place.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Anna leaned in. “You guys are practically licking each other up and down out there. It’s disgusting.”

Megan opened her mouth and closed it, stunned by the sheer unfairness of her accusation.

Anna’s voice changed, and she smiled widely, showing her teeth. “I know you want me to have a good time too. Just like you, right? And I’m going to. I’m going to have a great time, Megan.”

Anna pulled a cigarette out of her jeans pocket and lit it with her little silver lighter. She inhaled, then blew the smoke into Megan’s face, leaned over, and planted a big kiss on her cheek. Then she walked away.

A twinge of the same fear she’d felt last night by the creek rose up in Megan’s throat. She pushed it back and found her way over to Jordan, who was leaning against the porch railing, his hands in his pockets.

“Everything okay?” he asked. He held out a little daisy. “I found this for you.”

Megan didn’t want to admit what had just happened with Anna. Her insides felt cold thinking about it. Megan longed for a hot bath and her bed at home. Instead, she took Jordan’s hand.

“Let’s go, okay? It’s starting to rain.” A few drops were falling. The moon was hidden by clouds.

“Yeah, let’s get some cake. Sarah’s cutting it now.”

“No, seriously, can we leave? I don’t feel very well.” She thought of Anna’s calm, grating voice.

Jordan stooped, his eyes dark with concern. “You look pale, Meg.”

“I do?” she responded mindlessly. Lots of people were still dancing, but a few others were gathering their things too.

“Thanks, Linda,” Jordan called as they walked past her. “Night.”

“Night, you guys.” She waved.

Near the edge of the lawn, Anna was leaning up against Robert, saying something in his ear. He had a big goofy grin on his face. When Anna saw Megan and Jordan coming, she waved.

“Don’t wait up for me, Meg!” she called. She broke into giggles, and she and Robert disappeared into the darkness.

Megan and Jordan walked on in the light rain. Megan fought down a rising sense of anger that Anna’s weird mood had kept her from enjoying a perfect evening with Jordan.
But you’re here now. Just try to forget it,
she told herself.

Jordan walked her back to the cabin. At the steps, he started to say something but stopped. Gently, he put his hand on the back of her neck. Megan closed her eyes as his lips met hers, slow, smooth, hot, as if he had all the time in the world and the kiss was never going to end. She never wanted it to.

At last they broke apart. Jordan glanced at the cabin. “Should I . . . come inside?”

Yes!
her mind yelled, but a wiser, more responsible Megan spoke instead. “I don’t know . . . maybe not yet?”

Jordan smiled, and she knew he understood. He leaned forward and kissed her again, then turned back toward the farmhouse. She reluctantly let his hand slip from her fingers. He receded down the path. But before he was out of sight, just a shadowy figure now, he blew her a kiss.

Megan floated inside the cabin, by herself, since Anna was who knew where with Robert. She pulled on her big T-shirt and sweat shorts and, skipping a washup, got into bed, pleasantly tired. The bed felt almost homey and the sound of the gentle rain on the tin roof comforting, as if this had been her room all her life. She slept.

Much later, in the thin light of dawn, Megan awakened to the sound of running footsteps outside her window. Anna lay in her bed, deeply asleep.

There were more footsteps, then someone pounded at the door. Megan sat up, pushed the covers aside, and opened the screen.

Thomas stood on the porch, boots over his striped pajamas, holding a coil of rope. Dave stood at the bottom of the steps, wearing sweatpants and carrying more rope.

“Get some shoes on, Megan,” Thomas said, his voice tense. “The foal’s out again—we found the door open. He’s not on the farm property—we’re going to check the old pastures. We need you in case he won’t come to us.”

Across the room, Anna groaned in her sleep and rolled over. Megan shoved her feet into her sneakers. Her sleepy fingers fumbled the laces.

Outside, it was cool and everything was wet with dew. Megan’s head felt unusually foggy. She shook it, trying to wake up. She followed Thomas and Dave around the cabin and through the open meadow. “Sarah and Isaac are checking the woods,” Dave shouted over his shoulder.

Wet grasses whipped at her shins as they passed the sheep pastures. Megan was so sleepy, but still she ran. Dave and Thomas pulled ahead.

Why can’t I wake up?

As they approached the abandoned barn, Thomas and Dave came to a stop beside Sarah and Isaac. They were all looking down the long hill that sloped away from the buildings.

Megan stumbled up to them and followed their gaze. In an instant, all the sleepiness was shocked out of her system.

A motionless brown form lay at the bottom of a long skid track, wet with mud and damp leaves.

Sweetie.

Megan lurched forward, running down the hill, tripping, almost falling herself. At the bottom, she collapsed onto her knees and laid a hand on Sweetie’s soft brown shoulder. His eyes glared sightlessly up at the gray morning sky, his legs twisted beneath him. Megan bent her head to the ground and wept.

CHAPTER 14

Megan felt a hand on her back. She looked up into Thomas’s sympathetic eyes.

“Megan. He must have tripped and fallen.”

“But . . . how? . . .” Megan allowed herself to be led back up the hill. The others were sober-faced, looking down at the body, then away, as if they couldn’t bear to see the twisted form lying in the mud either.

Isaac stuffed his hands into his pockets, cleared his throat.

“He got out, I guess,” Dave was saying when Anna panted up, wearing a sweatshirt over her pajamas, her hair still mussed from sleep.

“Hey, what’s up? I rushed out . . . ,” she said, out of breath. “What’s—” She caught sight of the body. “Oh, no.” She looked closer. “Oh, shit, is that
Sweetie
? Is he okay? What happened?”

Megan turned on her. She couldn’t bear the avid curiosity in her friend’s voice. “He’s dead, Anna! He fell. . . .” Her voice cracked.

“Oops,” Anna said.

“Come on. We’re not helping anything standing here,” Thomas said, herding them back to the farm.

They went straight to the barn. Jordan and Robert were standing at the entrance. They must have read the bad news on everyone’s faces, because they didn’t ask any questions, just stood back, their hands in their pockets.

The big doors were partly open. Rosie stood in the doorway, pressing against the crack. Megan knew she was trying to get out to find her foal, but the opening wasn’t wide enough for her. Only Sweetie had been able to slip through.

Thomas pressed his hand gently to the mare’s shoulder to move her back from the door, and they all squeezed inside.

Rosie was sweating, agitated, trying to get out as if she knew that’s where Sweetie had gone.

Tears filled Megan’s eyes again. She couldn’t stand seeing the mare wanting to follow her baby. How could she explain to her that he’d never be back?

Silently, they watched Thomas put a halter on the mare and lead her back to her stall, though she was balky and kept pulling away.

Thomas looked carefully at the stall door before leading Rosie in. He shot the bolt.

“The latch was open.” He showed them. “It must have been closed, but not secured. The foal could have easily bumped it with his head until it jostled open.”

Closed but not secured.
The words rattled around in Megan’s mind for a moment before taking hold.
Closed but not secured.

Thomas fingered the metal latch carefully for a second.

“I don’t want to pin anyone down here,” he said, not unkindly. “The fact is that we all go in and out of these stalls every day. There are consequences for not checking the latch. The first rule on any farm: Check the gate, check the latch.” He looked at each of them in turn.

Megan shriveled when his gaze fell on her. She had left the door open only yesterday. Did she do it again?

No.
She was sure she’d locked it after giving Sweetie his afternoon grain.
I locked it, I checked it
, Megan insisted to herself.

Thomas went on. “As far as I can tell, Sweetie must have wandered out and stumbled trying to go down the hill. That sort of thing happens with foals, especially if the grass is wet and he was running.” He spread his hands. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Outside, Megan could hear Dave start up the backhoe. She didn’t have to be told that he was going to bury Sweetie.

Thomas left, and Isaac and Robert followed him out. Jordan put his arms around Megan. She started crying again, and he gave her a long, hard hug.

“I have to help Dave with the backhoe. I’ll come find you when I’m done,” he said as he left.

The barn was empty now. Good. She didn’t want to talk. Megan leaned over the half door of the stall and stroked Rosie’s damp nose over and over.
Your baby is dead
, she tried to communicate to the mare.
He’s not coming back. He fell, and now he’s gone.
Rosie’s soft, intelligent eyes looked back at her. Megan thought maybe she understood.

Megan wanted to collapse on the barn floor and curl into a ball, but forced herself back outside. She was on the schedule to weed the garden today, her least favorite job.

Anna stood in the middle of the path.

“I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Are you kidding? Leave my friend in her time of need?” Anna entwined her arm with Megan’s. Her skin felt cool and smooth, while Megan felt coated in sweat and grime from her run through the pasture. All she wanted was to take a shower and be alone.

“I have a headache,” she said.

“Too bad!” Anna chirped. “I wish I had some Advil to give you.”

Megan began plodding toward the garden.

“Don’t you want some breakfast?” Anna kept up by her side.

Megan made a face. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted less. “Let’s just do the garden, okay? Then I want to take a shower and a nap.”

“Well, that’s understandable.” Anna leaned over as they walked. “Sweetie’s dead. He was, like, your best friend here, wasn’t he? And so sad to die in such a violent way.” She lowered her voice to a moist whisper. “Do you think it was breaking his neck that did it? Or if he’d just broken his legs, they’d have had to shoot him anyway, right? Like in the Kentucky Derby, remember, when they had to shoot that—”

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