Page 28 of Covert Operation
But it is.
Sadie’s eyes go wide. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” A pang of sadness pokes through me. “I loved teaching, but it’s too much.” Too loud. Too congested. Too much interaction with people who would rely on me to give them what they need.
And that’s not something I can offer.
Sadie comes toward me, resting both hands on my shoulders. “It will get better. Soon you’ll be ready to get into the classroom again.” Her tone is pleading. Desperate. “I know you will.”
My throat tightens around a lump as I look over my sister’s face. I’ve waited for a year, thinking one day I would magically wake up and be the person I used to be. That if I just held out long enough, everything would go back to the way it was.
It seems I wasn’t the only one.
Sadie offers a smile. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” She lifts her brows. “That’s why I came over, actually. Jamison and I have to go to Florida for a few weeks. It’ll give you lots of time to relax and enjoy the sun and warmer weather. I bet by the time we come back, you’ll feel like a new person.”
It takes me a minute to process what she said. Then it takes me another minute to digest it.
“I’m not going to Florida with you, Sadie.” I’m finally finding some footing in my life. Finally moving forward. I can’t stop all that, and I don’t want to.
My sister’s head bobs back in surprise. “What?” She huffs out a laugh. “If you’re worried about Elise, I can promise you, she’ll be just fine without you.”
The casual way she dismisses what I’m doing and the value it offers is like a punch in the gut. “I’m not going to Florida.”
“But…” She scoffs, like it never occurred to her that I wouldn’t follow along with the plans she’s made. “But if you stay here you’ll be alone.”
No. I won’t. But she doesn’t know that. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
I can tell by the look on her face she’s about to argue with me, and I just don’t have it in me. So I open the door, holding it wide, hoping she’ll take the blatant hint I’m giving. “I have some work to do.”
Sadie’s lips flatten and she almost seems like she’s going to argue with me for a minute, but then she surprises me with a smile. “Yeah. Okay.” She crosses onto the porch, pausing to turn. “We can talk more in the morning.”
“Sure,” I say. I have no intention of discussing this tomorrow, or any other time really. I’m not going to Florida. It’s just not happening.
TWELVE
ZEKE
SAVANNAH IS ALL smiles as she picks her way through the snow. This morning she’s wearing a dress, thick tights, and somewhat winter-worthy boots beneath her heavy coat. I still don’t trust the traction of her footwear, so I meet her at the gate, offering my arm as she slips out.
There’s no hesitation when she reaches for me, holding on tight as I lead her to where my Jeep is idling at the curb.
“Thank you again for doing this.” She looks up from the ground long enough to give me a smile. “I really appreciate it.”
“I should actually be thanking you. Pierce and Mona are still fighting over my trip to Nashville, and every time they see me, one of them tries to drag me into the middle of it.” I use my free hand to open the passenger door, stepping back to give Savannah room to climb in.
She wrinkles her nose in a grimace. “Well, if you ever need to get away, I have plenty of furniture stacked in my garage that needs to be moved upstairs.”
My hand rests on the door as I stop midway through closing it. “Why is it in your garage? I thought the movers delivered it to you.” They should have put everything where she wanted it. For the amount of money Pierce paid, they probably should have unpacked it too.
Savannah blows out a loud sigh. “They would have carried it all upstairs, but I wanted to go through it and decide what to keep and what to get rid of.” Her dark brows pinch together. “I just feel like maybe I want a fresh start, you know?”
I offer a single nod. “I do know.”
A fresh start is what brought me to Alaska. What made me leave the military and put the skills I’d learned there to a different sort of use.
But change is hard, and fresh starts aren’t always new beginnings. Sometimes, no matter how much distance you put between yourself and everything you want to leave behind, it’s still right there every time you turn around.
I tip my head toward the floorboard. “Watch your feet.”