“But there’s something.”
She took a moment to answer. “When I was a kid, I’d crawl into bed with Autumn and we’d...” She grimaced but her lips twitched like she was struggling not to smile. “We’d talk shit about our brothers. ‘They think they know everything,’” she ended in a high-pitched voice. “‘They’re so bossy and treat us like wimps.’”
I grinned. “I know that didn’t last long. Teller used to tell me about the extra work they tricked you and Autumn into doing.”
She whipped her head toward me, her gaze righteous. “He was so bad. Tate could be worse. If it weren’t for Tenor and his soft heart, we’d have probably continued doing everything while they”—she threw up air quotes—“‘swept the barn.’”
Laughter vibrated out of me. I could picture Tate and Teller, young and broody and cocky, thinking their sisters got it easy and making sure they righted the world.
Her grin was better than the haunted look she’d had when I’d first found her. “Good thing Montana winters are long. My sisters and I needed that therapy time complaining about them.” Her smile faded. “As an adult,I just roam my place until I can’t stay awake. Sometimes, I pull all-nighters, but you know the wind is never as bad in town.”
“No Boyd?”
She shook her head. “I tried to talk to him once. He said, ‘Baby, it’s just a breeze.’”
“What a dickwad.”
“So many red flags marched past me.” She shuddered. “So I’m back to wandering and waiting.”
I’d made it through her massage. I could be a gentleman. “I have a big bed. You can shit-talk your brothers, and I’ll stick to my side of the bed.” She blinked at me, stunned. I could take back my offer and pretend I had said nothing, or I could forge ahead. “No funny business, I promise.”
She softened. “I know you won’t try anything,” she said with a hint of resignation, but that was probably just me thinking about things better left alone. “I can be a bed hog.”
“Do you steal blankets?”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I’ve been told I do but I think it’s all lies.”
“Go on, sunshine. I just did laundry the other day, so all bedding is clean.”
“Mama is a laundry maniac before blizzards too.”
“Can’t be stranded with no power and racing stripes.”
A giggle burst out of her. “I don’t know if Mama would admit that, but I’m sure that was her reason with my brothers.”
“Save the shit-talking for the sheets, sunshine.”
Laughing, she walked away and straight to my bedroom. I took a few seconds to gather myself.
I’d smiled more around her in the last week than inthe entire year put together. Unfortunately, I’d also gotten more erections.
“We got it stuck.” I was on my third story of the hijinks Teller and I had been up to as teens, lying on my bed like I had been when I’d heard her wandering. She was on her side, on the edge, with an expanse between us. The faint glow of a night-light emanated from the hallway. My eyelids were heavy but there was no way I was falling asleep before Summer did. There’d be no one to make sure she got some rest.
“You did not. Daddy’s new pickup?” Fatigue was entering her voice.
“Right down in that very valley. I had to sneak my dad’s tractor out of the yard to tow it.”
She yawned. “How do you sneak a tractor?”
“Bribed my brother to fake breaking an ankle.”
“No way!” She perked up, and I grinned. The few times I’d mentioned Eli, the old pain wasn’t there. I liked talking about the fun we’d had. I rarely thought of those memories without the weight of sadness.
“He did. Dad wouldn’t call him on it after the X-ray came back clear and there was no swelling or bruising. The youngest, you know. Spoiled.”
“Wynter would disagree, but totally the youngest.” Sleepiness was back in her voice. “Eli never told me that story.”
“I’m surprised.”
