Page 13 of Promise Me, Katie (Bennett Sisters #1)

“Well, think about Officer Brandon,” another voice added. “He was there to witness it. God knows he didn’t deserve to see such a thing. Something like that’ll stay with him forever.”

As the other women around the table agreed, they added comments like, “It’s a crying shame” and “What an awful way to learn the truth.”

Since she couldn’t hide from every story, Katherine not only knew details about the accident, but she also knew Matthew had left town.

The local newspaper even reported that the accident was‘a tragic loss for the community when up-and-coming reporter Julia Brandon and respected WDSG station manager Grant Adams were killed in a freak one-vehicle accident’.”

While another story ran on KOMO News in Seattle.

“Former Kinsey Police Officer Matthew Brandon will escort his wife Julia Brandon to her final resting place, just outside of Seattle, while his new colleagues in Windsong are investigating the possibility of a second vehicle involved.”

Eventually, Katherine started to hide out in the diner’s kitchen as much as possible.

Just like she was now hiding on the other side of her back door, dreading the moment she’d come face to face with Matthew again.

She didn’t even want to look across the lawn and see the Brandon’s house.

But her beloved garden needed attention, and her overgrown grass desperately needed mowing.

Still, Katherine wasn’t ready to see Matthew. She didn’t know what to say or how to act. And most of all, she didn’t want to see him and feel the same feelings she’d been fighting since the day they met.

Stepping outside and closing the door behind her, Katherine heard the same eerie silence that started just after the accident, and she was sure Matthew wasn’t there. Taking a few calming breaths, she willed her body to relax.

“Lord, give me strength,” she said as a hearty “ Amen!” came from the corner of her yard.

Startled and clutching her chest, Katherine looked over and spotted Pastor Peter making his way across the lawn. “Geez, you scared me!”

“Sorry about that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came by to check on Officer Brandon,” he said, gesturing to the house next door. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No, I haven’t seen anyone—”

“Since the accident?” Peter offered.

“Yeah.” Katherine nodded, fighting the return of tears. It pained her to even think of it, let alone say the words.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were acquainted with the Brandons. You never know these days. Neighbors aren’t what they used to be.”

“I’m fine,” Katherine said, ignoring his questions about her relationship with Julia and Matthew. Hoping to change the subject, she invited him inside. “We can crack open the new tea sampler I got.”

“Only if you’ve got the time,” Peter said, looking back at her carefully organized rows of vegetables. “Looks like your grass is getting long, and your veggies need a little TLC. Isn’t today supposed to be your gardening day?”

“Isn’t today your preaching day?”

“Already done,” he bragged, flexing like a bodybuilder. “I’m probably getting better with age. Something you’d know if you ever came back to Sunday service.”

“Come on inside.” Katherine smiled at the well-meant jab. “I’ve always got time for you.”

Entering the kitchen behind the pastor, she felt a stab of pain when he settled into the spot at the table once occupied by someone she loved.

“To answer your question, I don’t really know the Brandons.

I spoke with Matthew briefly, but I never got the chance to meet Julia,” she confessed, figuring it was best to get that part of the conversation out of the way.

She knew Peter Humble enough to know that somehow, someway, he’d ask again.

“Before they moved in, Matthew caught me out working in the yard and introduced himself, and we talked a little. Then, on the night of the accident, Justin had brought him by the diner for coffee and pie.”

When Katherine caught herself rambling, she hoped that something in her words or the way she spoke wouldn’t give Peter the impression there was something more between her and Matthew.

“So, you were getting to know each other then?”

“Not really.”

“But you said you’ve spoken with him on several occasions.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I’d call that getting to know him.”

“Okay, so, what’s your point?”

“Easy, sister.” Peter raised his hands. “I don’t have a point. But I thought if you knew him well enough, you’d be willing to talk to him about coming to Grief Group.”

“Why would he wanna do that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Peter said, looking confused and a little defensive. “Just because you don’t like the sharing part doesn’t mean someone else wouldn’t benefit from it. The guy’s gotta be hurting right now.”

“You’re probably right,” Katherine relented, sorry that she’d gotten so defensive when Peter was only trying to help. “I mean, I’m sure he is. But like I said, I haven’t talked to him since the accident. Do you want me to ask my dad when he’s coming back?”

“That’s just it. I’ve already talked to your dad.

It’s part of why I was hoping to catch up with Matthew.

I found out that his return to work is contingent upon getting some mental, emotional, or spiritual guidance for the grieving process.

The Chief says that until then, he’s not allowed back on duty. ”

“Whoa, that’s intense.”

“It has to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Considering what he’s been through, even a simple psychiatric evaluation could be difficult.

The nature of what officers are exposed to on any given day already makes them susceptible to anxiety, depression, and even PTSD.

Now take all that and pair it with what Matthew witnessed and that it wasn’t just a stranger in that news van. ”

“I see what you mean.”

“You know yourself that grieving is a tricky thing. So, this could really mess him up. That’s why it’s important that he gets the help he needs to properly manage his situation before returning to police work.

Seeing a therapist was one option, but I’ve offered Grief Group as an alternative, and it’s been approved.

Now it’s up to Matthew to decide the path forward. ”

Katherine stayed silent as she filled their cups with hot water before letting Peter choose from the box of a dozen different tea flavors.

“Hey, impressive stash,” he said, pointing to the brand on the packet of Earl Grey in his hand.

“Oh, geez.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Is there any chance your sense of humor will ever be less corny?”

“Probably not,” he chuckled. “Isn’t it great?”

Smiling, Katherine decided that while the mood was light, she’d casually convince Peter on the merits of him inviting Matthew to Grief Group instead of her doing it.

“Like I said, I’ve only spoken to him twice, so I’m sure it’d be better coming from you.

Besides, he might wonder how I knew about the conditions of his return to work and wouldn’t appreciate you sharing that with anyone.

We both know what it’s like to have people far too aware of the details surrounding your personal life. ”

“You make a good point,” Peter said, reaching inside the cookie jar Katherine had placed between them. “Thanks for that.”

Since the Brandons were always home about the time Katherine did her gardening on Sundays, she figured Matthew and Julia didn’t attend church. And maybe, since they weren’t regular church-goers, Matthew would choose the option of meeting with a therapist instead.

“Holy Lord!” Peter proclaimed with his mouth full of shortbread cookie. “These are incredible!”

“Aren’t they?”

“Is this a new recipe?”

“Nope.”

“Then why haven’t I ever had them before?” he asked, stuffing the rest of the cookie into his mouth. “Are you Bennett women holding out on me?”

“No.” Katherine smiled. “That’s not a Bennett family recipe.

It’s a Fraser one, and I promised Millie years ago that I’d only make and serve them at home.

She said they’re from a sacred recipe passed down through Hamish’s family, and I wasn’t allowed to make them anywhere else. Especially not the diner.”

Peter reached inside the cookie jar for another and pulled out three more. “But you can serve themhereand towhomever you want?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s it,” he said through a mouthful of crumbly, buttery goodness. “From here on out, Grief Group meets at your house.”

With a laugh, Katherine shook her head. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”