“Yeah.”
“We just finished with the summer hiring. It’s always done in May, Tilly.”
I tap the windowsill, biting back a frustrated curse. “Yeah, I remember.”
“You don’t have to pay to stay here, sweetheart. This is your home.”
“It’s not that. My savings are completely tapped after the lawyer fees, and I can’t sit here and do nothing. I don’t even have a car anymore.”
“Use my truck when you need to go somewhere.”
“I’m not twenty anymore, Dad. I don’t want to have to borrow all of your things.” With a groan, I tighten my ponytail again and glance around my room. “What about Maggie’s? Is she hiring?”
“You’d have to ask, but I doubt it. With school out, she probably hired the same way we did.”
“Great.”
“You could try Cherry Peak,” he suggests.
I try and smile, but I know it looks more like a wince than anything else. “I will.”
“It’s good to have you home, Tilly.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to be here.”
For now, I’m sure. Because after all, there’s a reason I left in the first place.
My twin brotherhas always been addicted to nature.
We’re similar in that way, but where he chose to ride dirt bikes and quads in the bush, I chose to saddle horses and ride through the fields of Painted Sky. The Carrigan family horse ranch was where I spent most of my life. Between Painted Sky and my family’s campground, we were hardly ever inside.
It’s why I’m not surprised when I find him behind the Oak Point community centre with his head beneath a rusted old dirt bike, tweaking something with a wrench.
“What, your phone doesn’t work now?”
The wrench falls onto his chin, and he spits a wicked curse before lurching out from beneath the bike. His hand grips his chin while he whips his head to stare at me, eyes wide.
“Tilly?”
“In the flesh.”
He drops his hand and uses both of them to push himself off the ground. I eye the red mark on his chin and grin. His pace is quick as he crosses the grass to me.
“When did you get back? Shit, you look the same,” he says before yanking me into his chest and squeezing me tight. “Have you been eating?”
I hug him back, lingering longer than I did with Dad. “Is that your way of asking if I’ve lost weight?”
“No. It’s concern for the fact I can feel your spine.”
To emphasize his point, he digs his finger into my back and then pulls back, wearing a scowl. I shove his chest and roll my eyes.
“I’m fine. It’s been a rough few months, is all.”
His eyes narrow as they run over me from head to toe. It’s dramatic, but I let him do it, knowing I’ve been gone long enough for him to be doubtful. I almost wish I’d worn winter gloves despite the hot June sun when he stares at my bare finger.
“Finally,” he says.
“Finally? Really?”
