The sound of The Lumineers, Cleopatra filtered through the haze of my sleep-addled mind and dragged me from my peaceful slumber. I’d worked until 2:00 a.m. and then crawled into bed somewhere closer to 4:00 a.m., but the late morning serenade wasn’t entirely unexpected these days. Having a teenage daughter brought constant enlightenment at the best of times, but having worked at my bar until the early hours of the morning and coming home to her early morning routine was sometimes torture.

“Holly Dee Quinten,” I hollered petulantly, pulling the pillow over my head and rolling onto my back. I screamed into the feather down in frustration before flinging my arms to the side in resolution. There was, by my estimation, no more sleep to be had today.

“Yes, Momma?” Her response came clear, and her tone was sweet as she must have stuck her head around my bedroom door. I swore I could hear the grin she was wearing. The ability to smile at my wrath was one of her inherited traits from her father. There had been many days in high school when he’d snuck up behind me and whispered something, and all I’d had to do was close my eyes and see that warm smile of his tangled in with the humor of his tone, even when I was mad at him.

Throwing the pillow from my face, I smiled and glanced down at her, opening my arms with a grin of welcome. Her smile bloomed into a laugh as she raced to the bed and flung her body down next to mine. In the last fourteen years, I had learned what it was to love unconditionally with all of myself. My Holly was the brightest part of my life. She was racing to beat me in the height department, and all of that length came in the form of long ungainly legs that made her look like a gazelle. She had so much of Dustin in her that I found myself staring at her for hours upon end and never tiring. She was the most beautiful kid in existence, but I figured I might be a little bias when it came to Holly.

Pulling her against me, I inhaled deeply and grinned as the scent of her coconut shampoo filled my senses. She was so warm and utterly forgiving as I squeezed her tightly one last time before releasing her again, finding my maternal stride.

“What did I tell you about playing music this early when I’ve been working?”

Flinging her arm behind her, Holly plucked my ancient alarm clock up from the nightstand and rolled back cheekily, waving the small plastic box with the angry red numbers at me. “It’s past eleven. Your argument is invalid, Mother.”

“Smart assed kid. Tell me where I found you again?”

“Dumpster behind Safeway,” she replied, tugging the ends of my hair and releasing a small laugh, leaning to put the clock back where she’d found it. Her beautiful, piercing blue eyes—the same shape and shade as Dustin’s—met mine again. “Oh, and Aunt Meg called while you were sleeping. She asked that you call her back as soon as you get that lazy butt of yours out of bed because she needs to talk to you.”

“Is that a direct quote, or are you, my sweet-tempered child, ad-libbing?”

“Direct quote, I swear.”

“I believe it, too.” I groaned, rolling my eyes.

Megan had stuck with me through the fourteen years I’d been gone, even with the physical distance between us. She was still more like a sister than a friend, and as an adult, she was pushy, opinionated and a shark in her mom’s real estate company, but she and her parents were the only true family I’d ever had. Not much had changed in fourteen years. She still spoke her mind and gave me hell, and I still loved her for it.

“Did she say what she wanted?” I asked, brushing the wispy strands of Holly’s hair from her face and kissing her nose, making her scrunch it up in protest.

“Nope.” She rubbed her nose and pushed out her bottom lip in a pout. “She was being all cryptic and said she needed to talk to you, not the moody teenage version of you.”

“To which you responded?”

“It was a good job that I loved her dearly.”

I barked out a laugh and sat up with my back against the mass of pillows I slept with, my hands brushing my blonde hair back from my face. I’d only started dying it in the last couple of years. It had taken some getting used to, but I preferred the lighter color now. I had been inspired when one of my old classmates had shown up in my bar. They hadn’t recognized me, but random appearances were a reality I had to get used to once they’d legalized marijuana use in the state of Colorado.

“You really need to do your roots, Mom. Although…” Holly said, pushing my hands away and pulling on the longer layers of my hair. “If you had some highlights and blended the two colors, you’d actually be considered hip in some places, and it wouldn’t take as much upkeep.”

“Well, aren’t you considerate, even if you do make me sound like I’m old.”

“Well if the shoe—”

I didn’t let her finish. Age was her favorite taunt to me, and I always bit the bait. My fingers obediently moved directly to her ticklish spots and went to work until her words were replaced with a scream of surrender, her body twisting away from me in attempt to stop the random attack. Holly’s laughter was infectious and had been since she was old enough to show the emotion. She’d been the cutest and most sweet-natured child I’d ever known, and even though I was a child myself, I’d made damn sure that our lives were always filled with something for us to laugh about.

“I’m not old.”

“You kinda are compared to me.” She squealed and rolled off the bed as I pushed to my knees in pursuit to lunge playfully for her. She held her hands up in surrender, still giggling. “But you’re not as old as Ella’s mom is.”

I froze, feigning shock before brushing my hair over my shoulder dramatically. “Well, that makes everything better.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Ha! You share my genes, devil child. Means that you’re weird, too.”

I got the dreaded teenage eye roll even though it was delivered with a sweet smile of acceptance. She headed toward the door and bounced on her toes carelessly. “Call Aunt Meg before she blames me for not giving you the message.”

“Yes, Mom,” I sang, earning myself an incredulous look and a peek at her tongue as she stuck it out at me. She slipped out of my room and disappeared into her own where the music stepped up in volume again.

Needing coffee, I rolled myself out of bed and slipped my feet into the furry boots I always kept close before pulling on my favorite sweater. I tapped on Holly’s door as I passed, an unconscious invitation to join me for breakfast before pulling my hair up as I circled into the kitchen and started the pot percolating. If I was expected to talk to Megan this soon after waking up, I was going need some serious caffeinating. The woman still had more energy than she knew what to do with. Her two kids hadn’t slowed her down. They’d merely sped her up. She had two gears now: go and sleep. There was no middle ground anymore.

Pressing the speed dial for Megan, I propped my cell between my shoulder and ear while going about pulling together something that would pass as brunch. This was the first weekend of Spring Break and meant I was leaving my beloved bar, The Dusty Trail, to my manager, Earnest, to look after for two weeks while I took some well-earned vacation time. No more late nights for me for a while. Just days filled with hikes up on Pikes Peak and some shopping at the outlet malls in Castle Rock. The break was going to be glorious, and I planned on starting this bonding time by cooking my kid a good breakfast.

“So, you’re up,” Megan said down the line before her voice went distant and muffled. “Get down from there, kid. The roof is dangerous, for Christ’s sake.”

“It would appear I am,” I said sardonically, dropping some milk into my freshly poured coffee and sipping at the ambrosia in relief. “The brat said you called and you needed me to call you back the moment my eyes were peeled open and somewhat focused.”

“Well, I wasn’t quite that dramatic about the whole thing, but yes, I did ask you to call. Emmett, I swear to God almighty, if you fall and break your arm you’re going into the damn hospital with a two for one because I will break the other one. Now get down before I call your daddy and tell him you’re up there again. Jesus, my kids are testing me today, Kay. I swear I’m selling one on Etsy.”

I laughed and stirred my coffee with a finger before leaning a hip against the counter and taking my first proper mouthful. Since I’d moved to Trinidad, I had encouraged people to use Kay as my nickname in a bid to separate myself as much as I could from my past.

“You love them really.”

“I love my sanity, too, and it’s a toss-up of which I’m keeping right now. Emmett is now big enough to drag Robert’s ladder out from the garage and prop it up against the house, and then he thinks it’s the most fun thing in the world to climb onto the roof and piss off it into my rose bushes. He actually got Katie by accident the other day, and I tried so hard not to laugh about it. Poor thing. You’d think someone had cut her arm off the way she screamed. Of course, my sweet, thoughtful Emmett decided that he needed to help clean her up, being that he was the one who pissed on her in the first place, so he only went and pushed her in the fucking pool. I swear I have brought two heathens into the world.”

I was belly laughing now. I’d never heard anyone tell a story the way Megan did. She’d always had a way of spinning a good tale, but the older she got, the more elaborate her stories became. Filled with facts and embellished with her utter incredulity over it all.

Placing my full cup securely on the counter, I snorted out my amusement.

“Only you, I swear.”

“No. Really. Katie actually asked me if she could live with you and Holly because you’re more civilized than we are.”

“Do you see what an education does for children’s minds?” I pulled open the fridge to look for eggs and gather ham, milk, and spinach, dumping it on the counter as I hip bumped the refrigerator closed. “It makes them cocky, even if it is with a good vocabulary.”

“I told her I would consider it. If she was traded for Holly.”

“Hey! Never gonna happen. I like my child, thank you very much.”

Megan’s laugh came quickly and affectionately. “So do I.”

“What’s so funny?” Holly asked, stumbling into the kitchen before pulling open the refrigerator door to scan the contents. She scowled at me when I threw the kitchen towel I’d been holding, at her back, but grinned again when she saw that I had everything I needed to make an omelet on the counter.

“Katie told Meg that she wanted to live with us because we’re civilized,” I told her, pointing to the cupboard with the mixing bowls, while I dug in the drawers for a whisk.

“Now where did she get that idea?” Holly asked, pulling one of the glass bowls down and grinning cheekily. She looked so much like Dustin when she made faces like that I had to stop and pause. Her eyes were carbon copies of his. They were piercing. I’d never seen anything like them before, and although I saw Dustin every time I looked at her, there were these moments, just a blip on the radar of my life, when she nailed one of his expressions and made my heart surge in my chest until the muscle burst with love.

Holly didn’t ask what those looks meant anymore. She already knew and was familiar enough with my quirks to accept them for what they were. As always, with an understanding smile she popped up onto her tiptoes and kissed my forehead reverently, and then the moment was gone, and life fell back into its usual pace.

“Shh, don’t break the illusion,” I finally replied with a sigh as I rejoined the conversation and accepted the bowl from her. “I like the idea of being civilized.”

“Katie is eleven, Mom, and after living with Emmett for nine of those eleven years, anything is civilized.”

“She has a valid point,” Meg agreed in my ear, her laughter an echo of Holly’s.

“And I’m suddenly more open to that trade,” I mumbled petulantly, tapping Holly’s pouty bottom lip. “Now, tell me the reason for this desperate call before I hang up on you, former best friend.”

Meg laughed, but the sound sobered quickly as I heard the squeal of her back door closing. There was a serious edge to her voice now, and that always made me nervous.

“Okay,” she said blowing out her breath and losing all pretense of humor. “I’ve been picking up Mom and Dad’s mail while they’re on vacation. Mom asked me to just run through it every couple days to make sure there wasn’t anything that needed immediate attention. When I went over today, there was a letter addressed to you from TDCJ.”

My blood went chilly, and I fisted my hands to stop the immediate tremble so I could hide my reaction from Holly. As always, trying to hide anything from her was pointless, she knew me better than I knew myself most days. Stepping closer, Holly rested her hand on my shoulder in support. She was too damn intuitive for a fourteen-year-old.

“Is it from him?” I asked a slow flash of my dad’s face from that night dancing over the back of my eyelids as a surge of anger pooled in my stomach.

“It looks official, so I don’t think it’s from Jeff. You want me to open it for you?”

“Yeah, I guess. Let’s see what it has to say.”

I heard the rustle of paper as she opened the letter, and I leaned my hip against the counter as I waited for her to screen the correspondence for me. My father didn’t try to contact me very often, and he certainly didn’t know my address here in Colorado, so the only last known home he had for me was at Jen and Mike’s house. That worked well for all of us. Jen liked knowing she could filter what came to me. I liked knowing he would never find me, and my father was none the wiser.

“Oh shit.” Her words and tone made me feel like I’d just dropped from a great height.

“Meg. You can’t lead with that.”

“Kay, honey,” she said, her voice thick. “It’s filled with the law and technical jargon, but…”

“But what?”

“Let me read this part real quick,” she mumbled down the line for a moment before clearing her throat. “Inmate Jeffrey Eric Quinten made it known that this letter should be mailed after his death, and was to include a letter that he had written his daughter upon his death. His lawyer Larry Gloyd Esq. has instructions for Mikayla Elise Quinten, daughter of the inmate, to contact him for further instruction upon receipt of the letter. It goes on with more technical lawyer shit, but it says he died last week of pancreatic cancer. The letter he wrote is in here. God, Kay, I’m so sorry.”

My brain took a moment to catch up with the words banging around in my skull amongst the ringing in my ears. Dad was dead? How was that even possible? He wasn’t even forty-nine yet.

“Mom?” Holly’s voice cut through the odd floating sensation and pulled me back from a precarious ledge and into our kitchen. Taking her outstretched hand, I squeezed lightly and let out another breath.

“It’s okay, baby,” I said, glad for the steady tone.

As much as I wanted to tell Megan to burn the damn letter, I knew I couldn’t. I had to be an adult. If I wiped my hands clean, the responsibility would fall into Jen’s lap, and she didn’t deserve that. My only choice now was to take care of this, say goodbye, and move on with my life. There was a part of me that didn’t want to take Holly into the mess with me, but this was a part of her history, and if I didn’t take care of this now, there was a chance she could wander into a minefield later—and alone in order to sate her curiosity about her dad and that part of my life. If I had to go to Childress, it was better to go together.

With my mind made up, I nodded at her, knowing all she could see was my white, clammy face and anxious eyes.

“Holly, I need you to go and pack some things. I know you were looking forward to going to Colorado Springs, honey, but we’re going to have to postpone the trip for now.”

“Why?” she whispered, looking worried.

“Yeah, why?” Megan echoed down my phone sounding concerned. She, more than anyone, knew why I hadn’t made a trip back to Childress in over fourteen years.

“Give me a minute, Meg,” I said down the phone and placed it on the counter so I could take both of Holly’s hands in mine.

I led her away from the kitchen into the hall. There were some things about her past I hadn’t told her yet, mainly because she was too young to understand that her grandfather had shot her father the night they’d both discovered I was pregnant. Or that I had kept her away from her dad’s family because her grandma had been dying of cancer, and I couldn’t let those men be a part of her life. All of that information was too delicate to just drop in her lap without thought.

“Kiddo, we’re going to go to Childress. I promise I will explain as much of this as I can in the car on the way there, but I need you to trust me on this, and I need you to cut me a break.”

“But, Mom…”

“Please. I promise we will go and climb Pikes Peak again. It just might be a couple of weeks until we get there.”

She nodded in understanding, fighting the look of disappointment I could see creeping into those unfathomable blue eyes of hers. Pulling her close, I dropped a kiss on her head, before spinning her to face the other way and watching her walk down the corridor with drooping shoulders that screamed this sucks.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself and spun on my heels heading back to the kitchen, sweeping my phone from the counter and wedging it between my ear and shoulder as I started putting things away again.

“What are you doing, Kay?”

“Something I thought I would never do,” I admitted, pushing the refrigerator closed and resting my forehead against the stainless steel veneer.

“You’re coming here? Christ, sweetie, are you sure?”

“No.” I laughed humorlessly. “I’m not sure at all, but I can’t ask you to deal with this for me.”

“You know I don’t mind. At least talk to his lawyers first. I mean, if you want to come, you know you’re more than welcome here. I just know how much you hate this place. Rob and I can handle most of this if you need us to, I’m sure of it.”

“No. It said to contact the lawyers after reading the letter, Meg, and I can’t ask you and Rob to clean up my family’s mess again. I need to start taking responsibility for all that shit, and Holly needs to see where we came from before her curiosity gets the better of her.”

I could already feel the bile turning bitter in my stomach at the thought of returning to Childress. Fourteen years, I’d avoided the place and managed to keep my distance. I’d repressed all of the memories I could, holding onto the ones that meant the most to me. I could recall nights like prom night with perfect clarity and smile as I remembered all of the love that passed between Dustin and me. I hadn’t wanted to lose those precious moments, but I hadn’t wanted them to turn into ghosts that haunted me, either. There was a huge difference between the two, and I was aware that I about to drive into a ghost town with my daughter and attempt to keep my shit together.

“Okay, you might be right, but I’m sure it can wait.”

“The sooner it’s over, the better,” I said quietly. “It’s been fourteen years, Meg. A couple of days there won’t change much. I doubt anyone will even remember me, so I won’t have to worry about that.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get the guest room ready for y’all.”

“Thank you.” I meant it, even if I did feel sick at the idea of going back and taking Holly with me.

“Don’t be stupid. You don’t have to thank me.”

I smiled as we exchanged our goodbyes before I dropped my phone on the counter and fought to catch my breath again.

This wasn’t going to be fun. In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to relive the nightmare that haunted most of the nights I’d been away from the town.