Read Online Heart Murmurs by R. R. Smythe - Free Book Online Page A

again, steadying me. Giving me a little dignity. I straighten up, squaring my shoulders.
    Steve turns his bulk in the car’s direction and lumbers toward it.
    I feel my feet leave the ground. Morgan has swept me into his arms.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I ask, flustered but pleased.
    â€œGetting you back inside.”
    The mask is back. His hard eyes are fixed on my bedroom window.
    How does he know that is my room?
    ****
    Morgan The next day
    I turn the horse around, checking my pocket watch. I have one hour before the next tour group will arrive, with its history buffs, old bittys, and an occasional screaming child. The children don’t bother me.
    It’s the teens. They’re no more mature than the children — with their texting and gaming systems. No idea that at their age, long ago — boys were men.
    Where I come from, boys were dying as men — so many, too soon. They weren’t overgrown infants, whining about phone chargers.
    I dismount and head into Orchard House.
    Beth stares as I enter, her lips pressed together, but she says nothing. She even winces a little at my presence.
    I’m being a beast. I must stop. She is one of the most innocent, kind, and easily swayed people I’ve ever met. So eager to please everyone around her.
    It’s hard to believe she and Lou are sisters.
    â€œHi, Beth. Any word from Edward?”
    Her eyes instantly alight. “Yes! He should be home next week — I had an email from him this morning. How is Mia?”
    Does she know something about last night? “I believe she is fine. Why?”
    â€œJust asking. Did something else happen?” Her eyes are serious, but earnest.
    I sigh. Feeling depression’s darkness seeping into my mind like a fog. Beth doesn’t understand. That I would’ve rather died. That I should’ve died. That was my destiny. But instead, they saved me.
    Altered my destiny to intersect with their own.
    I open my mouth to say this, stare into her childlike eyes, shut it… and sigh.
    It’s like I am the older brother.
    I search for the anger — to get me through. But today, something has changed.
    When I think of Mia… it’s like a lone ray of sunlight shines and cuts through the fog. And I’m reluctantly, inevitably, drawn to it; a moth to her flame.
    The stinging in my leg is quiet, and the sun is shining on my face through the stained glass window. I snatch a glance in the mirror, watching the red-tinged light slash across my cheek in weird, macabre patterns.
    I see Mia trudging across the parking lot, and feel… okay that I’m still breathing in and out.
    Guilt instantly sears my guts.
    She is gone, I am alive.
    My pain flows in a river from my heart, channeling itself into anger. Anger is the only emotion comfortable in my body. The only way I can survive the opening of my eyes.
    Beth is watching me, evaluating my every breath. The anxiety is back in her eyes. I swallow, picking up a broom, trying to be glad — for something.
    Mia drags her backpack on the floor, and I see she’s almost panting. She’s trying to do too much again. I picture her as I found her last night — sprawled in the grass.
    My heart speeds with anxiety and a protective pang jabs my gut.
    I don’t want to see her hurt. I want to save her, somehow. I want to know why Mia’s as lost as I am.
    You want her to kiss you again. And more .
    Anger returns. I wasn’t supposed to care about anyone like this ever again. And certainly, not so very soon.
    â€œMorgan.” She nods. Her eyes are careful. She then turns to relieve Beth of a newly-baked tray of sweets. “Hi, Bethy. How’s it going?”
    I nod at her, most likely looking foul in the face. I lay down the broom, trading it for my rifle. I block them out for a few minutes, tending my weapon while a bunch of feminine volleys are tossed back and forth.
    In an odd way, it’s comforting. It reminds me of