“You always this friendly in the morning?” I asked, attempting to tease when I felt entirely off-balance.
He glanced at me sideways, a smile curving the corner of his lips. “No.”
That one word went through me like a match to dry kindling. I gripped my mug too tightly and took a sip just to have something to do. Coffee, thank God, was safe. Familiar.
Not like Silas.
“Guess I should feel special then,” I said, aiming for snarky but landing somewhere closer to breathless.
Silas didn’t answer; just looked at me again, fully facing me now. We were so close that I could feel his breath against my cheek. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something?—
“Y’all gonna hoard the coffee or share with the rest of us?” Beau called from thetable.
I stepped back quickly—too quickly—and nearly sloshed coffee down my shirt. Silas didn’t move; just filled a second mug with all the stoicism of a man who didn’t just witness the near-spiritual meltdown of a newly minted reverend.
Delilah glanced over from the table, head tilted. “June, you alright over there?” she asked, and I knewfull wellshe understood exactly what was going on. “You look…warm.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just hot in here.”
Yeah—that was it. I was fine.
Definitely not considering hauling Silas Ward into the pantry to find out exactly what his lips tasted like.
We all settled in around the kitchen table—Hazel in her high chair between Willow and Rhett, Delilah and Beau across from each other and already fighting over the honey butter, Milo thumping his tail against the floor underfoot as he waited for someone to drop something. Silas took the seat beside me without asking, his knee brushing mine.
I tried to focus on buttering a biscuit.
I did not succeed.
“So Silas,” Willow said, passing him the bowl of scrambled eggs. “Rhett mentioned you got a letter—seemed pretty important.”
Silas took the bowl, scooped a helping onto his plate, then set it down with a little too much force. “Yeah,” he said. “From Abel Trent.”
I had no idea who this Abel Trent guy was, but everyone else seemed well aware. Delilah froze with a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth, while Beau shook his head in clear disapproval.
“Told y’all,” Beau said. “Should’ve salted the earth when they left.”
I frowned. “So…not a good guy, I presume?”
Rhett blew out a breath. “Silas’s ex-future-brother-in-law,” he said. “The Trents used to run the old church—called it theRemnant Fellowship. Got into some hot water in town when their pastor, Abel’s dad, got accused of harassing a bunch of local girls…then they all skipped town and left Amelia here. That’s how Silas got the church.”
The room buzzed with quiet outrage, familiar names and long-held bitterness slipping into the conversation. But I didn’t hear much afterharassing a bunch of local girls.
My throat closed. My pulse kicked hard in my ears. The smell of bacon and butter, so warm and comforting just a minute ago, turned cloying, making my stomach roil.
I stared at the biscuit on my plate, uneaten. My hands were steady, my expression didn’t shift. I was good at that—at holding still and pretending I wasn’t shaken.
Old instincts.
I felt like I was seventeen again, tied to a chair, the smell of mildew and cheap aftershave thick in the air, a preacher’s voice telling me to beg for God’s forgiveness while his hand?—
“June?”
Silas’s voice pulled me out of it, quiet enough that I was sure only I could hear. I looked up too fast, and I knew he saw it in my face: the tell. The proof that something about this conversation had put me off-balance.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m good. Sorry…just spaced out.”
