Gilt Hollow (18 page)

Her mom nodded. “Yes, with fresh guacamole and lime-chili rice.”

“Yum! Ashton loves Mexican. Right, Ash?” He'd barely blinked when she added the clincher, “I heard Hersey's serves frozen, reheated dinners.” Her mom let Rainn have the occasional Pop-Tart, but in general she believed processed food was of the devil.

“Oh! Well, I—”

A high-pitched scream cut off Mom's response.

“Help!”

Rainn's voice.

R
ainn's cries for help ricocheted in Willow's brain as she raced out the front door with Mom and Ashton on her heels. Once outside, she scanned the porch and the front yard for her brother's blond head, but there was no sign of him. This was all her fault. If someone had hurt him, she would never forgive herself. A choked scream escaped her throat as she ran down the front steps. “Rainn!”

“Help! I'm up here!”

All three of them raced out into the yard and spun to face the house.

“Oh my God!” Mom gasped.

Rainn dangled from a broken length of iron railing that edged the third-story roof. His little feet ran in midair, trying to gain purchase, but the gable was steep and too far out of his reach.

“Stay still!” Willow yelled, afraid his frantic movement would rip the rail from its mooring.

A few workers rushed around from the back of the house, where they'd been packing up, and one of them suggested, “I can reassemble a scaffolding below him.”

The railing shifted a fraction and Rainn jerked, falling half a foot. He shrieked and Mom yelled, “There's no time!”

“What's the quickest way to the roof?” Willow asked Ashton, but he wasn't beside her anymore. He was climbing one of the porch columns like a tree. The muscles in his back bulged as he boosted himself up onto the overhang. Willow's heart catapulted into her throat.

Her mom mumbled a prayer under her breath, and Willow joined her.
Please, God, let Ashton reach my brother in time.

Ashton balanced on the porch roof, which was nothing more than a slanted sheet of metal, and made his way toward the second-story balcony. A gust of wind slammed into him and he sidestepped, slipping. Willow gasped, but he regained his balance and reached for the veranda above him.

“Mom! Help!” Rainn's voice tore a hole in Willow's chest. “I'm slipping!”

Tears streamed down her mother's face, but when she responded, her voice sounded strong. “Just a few more seconds! Someone's coming to get you!”

Ashton had scaled the narrower columns of the second-story veranda when a horrible wrenching sound ripped through the air. Rainn let out a bloodcurdling scream. Ashton pulled himself onto the tapered roof just as her brother dropped. Springing forward, Ashton threw out his arms. Rainn slammed into him, and Ashton pulled him tight to his chest. But as Willow sucked in a sharp breath of relief, the impact of her brother's body threw off Ashton's precarious balance and they both toppled backward.

Willow watched their freefall in horrified slow motion.

“Move!” A workman knocked her to the ground. Two painters stretched a blue tarp between them. “Pull it tight!” the foreman instructed. A split second later Ashton and Rainn slammed into the cloth with a whoosh. Their impact yanked the tarp out of one of the men's hands and pulled the other off his feet, causing the tarp to roll over Ashton and Rainn.

Stuck in a nightmare where she couldn't move or speak, Willow stared at the too-still cocoon of blue plastic. Why weren't they moving? Mom ran up and flung the tarp back. Rainn sat up and blinked. “Mom?”

Sobbing his name, she lifted him into her arms. Willow's eyes raked over her brother's body as he wrapped his arms and legs around their mom like a little monkey.

Willow turned back to the tarp, where one of the painters knelt over Ashton, blocking her view. “Hey, kid, are you okay?”

Willow scrambled up beside the workman, then sunk to her knees in the grass. Arms and legs sprawled, eyes closed, Ashton lay as still as a corpse.

“I think he hit his head on my knee,” the man said.

Heart seizing, Willow leaned over and placed her hand on Ashton's chest. It rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Thank God, he was still breathing, but a fall like that could snap a spine or fracture a skull—paralyze someone for life. “Ash? Can you hear me?”

Years seemed to pass before he moaned and his head fell to one side. His eyelids cracked open to reveal a slit of midnight blue, and Willow's heart restarted with a shudder. Her throat burned, but she refused to let the tears come. He'd been strong. Now it was her turn.

“Don't move him,” the foreman instructed. “I've called 911. The paramedics are on their way.”

“Did you hear that, Ashton? You can't move, okay?”

His dark lashes fluttered several times before his gaze fastened on Willow's face. “Is . . . Rainn okay?”

Brushing his hair off his forehead, Willow smiled. “He's fine.” She glanced behind her to where her mom sat on the front steps with Rainn in her lap.

Ashton lifted his head, but Willow held him down with a hand on each of his shoulders. “Whoa there. You can't move. Like, at all.” When he relaxed, she asked, “Does anything hurt?”

“My head, a little.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. The local fire department had an EMT squad, but the nearest hospital was twenty miles away.

Ashton's eyes flared wide. “I can't go to the hospital. I'm fine. See?” He rose up again, his head coming off the tarp before Willow could stop him. He groaned and fell back, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Hey.” Willow cupped his face in one hand, brushing her thumb along his jaw. “It's okay. They can help you.” The sirens grew louder, and she could see red lights flashing out of the corner of her eye.

“I can't afford their help, Wil.” His eyes opened and focused on her face, his forehead creased in pain or worry or both. “Plus, I hate hospitals.”

“Well, let's at least make sure you aren't broken.”

Wheels screeched on the driveway as the ambulance barreled in at full speed, then slammed to a stop. The whirling lights and sirens cut off as a middle-aged woman dressed in a navy blue uniform opened the driver's side door and jumped out, snapping on a pair of disposable gloves as she walked. A man in the same uniform came around the front of the vehicle, carrying a red-and-white nylon bag. The foreman directed them to the tarp, where the male paramedic set down the bag and pulled out a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff before asking, “Where's the other victim?”

Willow pointed to her mom and brother on the steps. The paramedic walked over to Rainn as the female EMT knelt beside Ashton, directing her first question to Willow. “Hi, I'm Anita. What's your name?”

The moment Willow told her, the woman began to fire
off questions. “Are you hurt, miss?” Willow shook her head. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Anita listened as Willow described the fall, and then the EMT turned to Ashton. “What's your name, handsome?”

“Ashton Keller.”

There was a flicker of surprise behind Anita's sharp brown eyes, but she covered it quickly. “Willow, I want you to hold Ashton's head with both hands. Keep the neck in line so I can assess him.”

Willow moved behind Ashton and cradled his head on either side. She leaned over and gave him an upside-down smile, surprised by the fear she read in his gaze. Intent on distracting him, she said, “Hey, remember that time you jumped off the tree house roof?”

“Because I was Spiderman?” A smile tugged at his lips.

“Try not to talk, Ashton,” Anita instructed as she pressed her fingers into his shoulders. “But tell me if anything hurts when I touch it.” She moved down his right arm, squeezing every inch until she got to his hand, where she put two fingers into his palm. “Squeeze my fingers.”

He did, and Willow blew out a slow breath as the EMT continued her examination on Ashton's other side. Willow looked back into his eyes. “You grabbed the branch, but your fingers slipped off. You had to get ten stiches.”

He blinked rapidly.

“Eleven?” she corrected.

He blinked again.

She grinned. “Twelve?” When his lips quirked, she grinned. “Wow, twelve whole stitches. I insisted on going into the exam room with you, and when Dr. Beck put the numbing shot into the cut, tears welled in your eyes, and I started bawling so hard the nurse had to take me out of the room.” His smile
faded as the memory soaked into them both. When he hurt, she hurt, and vice versa. That's how it had always been.

Anita directed, “Ashton, push down with your feet like you're pressing on a gas pedal . . . Good. Now pull up, point your toes toward your head. Good, no paralysis.”

When he'd completed her instructions with both feet, Willow turned away and blinked back tears.

“Great job.” Anita crab-walked back up to where she'd left her kit. “Willow, you can release his head now.”

Reluctantly, Willow let him go and moved back. The EMT pressed on Ashton's facial bones, his jaw, and then the sides of his neck. When she ran her fingers over the back of his head, he winced. “Does that hurt?”

“Yeah.”

She threaded her fingers under his hair. “Did you hit your head on something?”

“I . . . I don't remember.”

Willow chimed in, “One of the guys holding the tarp said he thought Ash's head hit his knee.”

“Did he lose consciousness?”

“Yes.”

“How long?” The woman removed her hands from Ashton's head.

“Just a few seconds, I think.”

The male EMT walked over. “The kid checks out. Not a scratch on him.” He squatted down beside Ashton. “Good job, man.”

Anita turned a warm smile on Ashton. “You probably have a concussion. I have to take you in and let a doctor decide how long to keep you. Do you have a hospital preference?”

His gaze shifted to Willow and then back to the EMT. “I'm fine.” He sat up but clutched his head with a groan.

Willow lurched forward and grabbed his shoulder as he swayed. “Ash, you need to go.”

Ashton's lips pressed together, his brows lowering. “No.”

She knew that look. Once he'd set his mind, there was no moving him.

“You can stay here tonight, Ashton.” Mom and Rainn approached. “As long as you agree to see the doctor first.”

Still seated on the ground, Ashton's gaze flicked to Willow and then back up. “Okay. Thank you.”

Mom squeezed Rainn to her side, her eyes glistening. “It's the least we can do.”

After Ashton was treated and released from the emergency room with instructions to have someone wake him every two hours, Pastor Justin picked them up and brought them all back to Keller House. Tucked into the massive four-poster bed that used to belong to his grandparents, with pillows propped behind his back and a tray full of Mexican food on his lap, Ashton's headache faded to the background. He could get used to the hero treatment.

He picked up a triangle of chicken and cheesy goodness and took a bite, savoring the soft crunch of the tortilla and the subtle spice. It had been too long since he'd tasted a home-cooked meal, and Dee Lamott's were the best.

As he shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth, a blond head peeked around the door frame and then disappeared. “You can come in, Rainn.”

“Mom told me not to bug you,” replied a disembodied voice.

“I don't mind.” Ashton finished off the quesadilla in one bite, and when Rainn didn't appear, suggested, “It's kinda lonely in here.”

The kid zoomed into the room like he had wheels on his feet and jumped up on the other side of the bed. “Are you really Ashton?”

Ashton choked back a laugh. The solemn look on the boy's face told him it was a serious question. “Yes . . . Do you remember me?”

Rainn cocked his head to one side and gave Ashton the once-over. “You're way bigger now, but your eyes are the same. I remember you coming over to hang out with my sister. And sometimes you'd play Super Mario Brothers with me.”

Rainn had to have been around five years old when Ashton went away, but he'd followed Ashton around like a shaggy blond puppy since he could walk. After Mr. Lamott passed, Ashton had felt sorry for the kid and had spent more time with him. They'd bonded over Mario Kart, Teen Titans, and Twizzlers.

“You went to jail, right?”

Thankfully, Ashton's mouth was full, so he just nodded.

“Why?”

Good question. “The police think I hurt someone.”

“Daniel Turano?”

The kid was smart. Just like his sister. “That's right.” Afraid of where this conversation was going, Ashton countered, “Why were you on the roof?”

Rainn leaned over and grabbed a quesadilla off his plate.

“Help yourself.” Ashton chuckled.

After swallowing a bite, Rainn shrugged. “I saw one of the workers fixing the rail, and I wanted to know how he'd gotten up there.” He took another bite and spoke with his
mouth full. “I found the door on the third floor. You've been living up there, haven't you?”

The cat was out of the bag anyway, so Ashton nodded.

Rainn giggled. “I totally thought it was a ghost. Do you believe in ghosts?”

Ashton finished the rest of his rice and then said, “Not sure.” He watched the kid squirm around for a few seconds. “Hey, don't go up there again, okay, Rainn?”