Page 66 of A River of Crows

Sloan huffed. “Mom doesn’t think you’re alive; she thinks you’re the crow.”

Ridge shrugged. “Okay. But either way, it’s brought her peace.”

Sloan looked back at the tent. “And you’ve been living here?”

“Not exactly. I’ve got an RV parked at the campground down the way, but I hike up here to camp sometimes. Just makes me happy remembering our trips here.” He smiled at Sloan, but she couldn’t return it. “I was glad to see Mom still visited this place, too,” he continued. “Made it easier than bringing Crawford near the house.”

Sloan rolled her head between her shoulders, but it didn’t ease any tension. “So, you’ve been living out here with a crow, stalking us?”

Ridge shook his head. “I told myself not to do this. Not to make contact.”

The dizziness was back, so Sloan lowered herself down on the log. She considered everything Dylan had been through. Maybe Ridge had too. And if so, how could she blame him for not wanting to discuss it? For being scared to come home? “I’m glad you came out to see me,” she said. “It’s just a lot to process.”

Ridge put Crawford back in the cage and sat beside Sloan, placing a hand on her knee. A gesture that filled her with overwhelming comfort.

“Thank God you’re okay.” She put her hand on top of his. “You can’t leave, Ridge. You can’t. Not ever again.”

“Well, I have to leave eventually, but it won’t be till Crawford learns to fly free.”

“How long will that be?”

“Hard to say. Depends on when his natural instincts kick in as far as finding food and avoiding predators. But you can’t tell Mom I’m here—can’t tell anyone.” His voice had a frantic edge. “I can’t answer questions. I won’t.”

“You realize Dad is in jail, right?”

Ridge rose, walking away from Sloan. “He’s getting out soon. What’s done is done.”

“You’re not going to contact him? Let him know you’re okay?”

Ridge kept his back turned, but Sloan noticed his posture straighten. “No,” he said, an unmistakable indifference to his tone. “I’m not telling that sonofabitch anything.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ridge asked, sliding lower in the passenger seat.

“I wouldn’t bring you to the house if Mom were there. Did you not just hear me on the phone with the hospital?”

“I’m not worried about Mom being there.” Ridge pushed his ball cap down. “What if someone sees me?”

“It’s not far, and the entire town thinks you’re dead. Not to mention, they haven’t seen you in twenty years.”

“Fair point. Sorry. I guess I’m a little paranoid.”

Sloan gripped the wheel tighter. “Are you still in danger?”

“Sloan.” Ridge’s voice hardened. “I’m not talking about that.”

“Right, sorry.” Sloan turned onto their street. Silence, heavy as baled cotton, fell around them as Sloan pulled into the driveway. She killed the car, and it became quieter still.

“Wow,” Ridge said, exhaling a heavy breath.

“Yeah,” Sloan leaned back against her seat. “I hadn’t been back since I left for college. Not till this summer.”

Ridge looked at her. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Mom was in the institution and then a residential treatment facility. Walt handled pretty much everything. I never came back. Couldn’t bring myself to after running away. Not to mention, I didn’t want to see Noah.”

Ridge unbuckled his seat belt. “Why not?”

“We were sorta high school sweethearts.”