SILAS
Iwas a discombobulated mess as I raced toward Firefly Fields. Where was freaking Billy? Why couldn’t he get the cow in? No one would miss him at the church. And why was I even going over? And why couldn’t I stop staring at her? Even with Christy right next to me, my eyes just kept flitting in that direction. I was pathetic.
I’d moved nineteen hundred miles to get away from Clementine. But Sophie’s last words haunted me:Make sure Lemon’s okay. Please.It’s amazing the promises you’ll make when your twin sister is hours from death.I didn’t know exactly how to make sure Clem was okay, especially when I lived across the country. But I was here right now and I could help with this. And Clem belonged at the potluck. Sophie probably loved her more than anyone in the world other than Anna. If I didn’t get her back there, Sophie would haunt me something fierce.
I punched the gas, trying not to think about how mad Christy looked when I dropped her and Anna at the church. But barring an outright miracle, Clem would miss the entire dinner trying to get that cow back in by herself. When I hit thegravel driveway, the road was so rough I bounced off my seat. I gently tapped the brakes. No time for fishtailing.
My eyes took in the farm and I couldn’t believe what I saw. Sophie had told me how hard Clem worked to keep the farm up, but there were three hundred acres here. There was only so much one woman could do. Everywhere I turned, I saw signs of neglect. Thorn bushes and vines took over the high tensile fence lines. A corner of the tin roof on the hay barn flapped in the breeze. Most of the gates were rusted and barely held together—and rather than being hooked in place with a chain, they were tied with leftover bailing twine. If Clem’s daddy, James, were alive, he would throttle Billy for letting the farm go like this. Then again, if James were alive, the farm wouldn’t look like this.
A growl formed in my throat. If I’d been left Firefly, you could bet your retirement I’d spend every ounce of energy working alongside Clem to keep James’s legacy alive. What had Billy been doing with all his time? I clamped my teeth.
Sophie had always hated Billy. Called him Billiterate, right to his face. Sophie wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. Said Clem had to write practically all of his papers in college and med school and that Billy wasn’t good for anything. I didn’t know if that was true. But if the state of Firefly was any indication, I’d say my sister hadn’t been far off.
I rolled over the last hill coming down into the valley. And there was Clem, having a stand-off with the cow. Clem’s high-heeled boots were covered in the red mud Seddledowne was famous for. She turned when she heard me pull up and I could already tell she’d had a doozy of a time trying to get fifty-six back in. Her bun was falling loose, letting strands of her copper hair poke out in all directions. And she had a smear of dirt on her left cheek. Clem had a way of looking soft and beautiful, even when she was a mess. I hated myself for noticing.
I pushed the door open and got out.
“I told you I don’t need help.” She tucked her bangs behind her ear. “You should be at the dinner with everyone else.” But her expression couldn’t hide the relief. I did the right thing in coming.
I shrugged off my suit jacket and tossed it into the passenger seat.
“So should you.” I started rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. “Did you try grain?” Cows would usually follow you anywhere for a sack of sweet feed. As long as they weren’t full on grass or hay.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I wasn’t raised on a farm or anything.” That was the Sophie coming out in her. My sister couldn’t complete two sentences without one of them dripping with sarcasm.
It made me smile a little. I finished up my other sleeve and shrugged. “Had to ask.”
She squinted in the sunlight. “You’re going to mess up your Armani.”
I actually didn’t know what kind of suit I was wearing. Christy had picked it out. But I knew it cost a lot. More than I would’ve spent. “That’s what dry cleaning is for.”
“She doesn’t want grain.” Clem nodded to an open bag in the back of a side-by-side fifteen feet off. “Just wants to be a pain in my side.”
“What about?—”
“Mineral either.” She nodded again to the side-by-side.
“What do you want to do then?” I mean, I knew what I’d do—but this was Clem’s situation, and if I’d learned anything from Christy, it was that women usually didn’t want you to come in and rescue them. At least, not strong-willed ones.
Clem inspected her muddy shoes. “Well, I’ve had enough running around for one evening. I was thinking of getting a rope from the barn.”
My eyebrow lifted. “You finally learned to lasso?” Doubtful. I mean, I used to lasso anything that moved. My brothers, Sophie, Clem, Mom, the dog. A roping scholarship had paid my way through the University of Wyoming. But the few times I’d tried to teach Clem had ended in disaster. She wouldn’t even try once we hit high school.
“We’ll never have to find out now that you’re here.” She wiggled her eyebrows and if it had been any other girl, I’d have sworn she was flirting. Once upon a time, that would’ve made me way too happy, but I’d conditioned myself to ignore stuff like that. I’d been hurt too many times by this girl. She didn’t know about any of them. But my heart sure did.
I gave her a brief, all-business smile. “Good thing I showed up, after all. Where are your ropes?”
“The red barn by my house.” She nodded to the east like I didn’t know where her house was. Growing up, we'd spent hours playing there in her Granny Eudora's musty basement. We’d build entire towns out of leftover shipping boxes. Of course I knew where her house was.
“Be right back.” I hopped in my car and got back onto the gravel driveway.
In sixty seconds, I was there. Apparently, I had company. Right in front of the barn were two parked cars. A brand spanking new dually Ford F-450 diesel, still wearing thirty-day tags. I peeked inside. Leather everything, massive speakers, and a double sunroof. I whistled. Somebody had paid a pretty penny for that. The other car was a Honda Accord that was so old and beat-up it shouldn’t have been on the road anymore. I’d seen better ones in the junkyard. It was a dull silver, all the shine worn off. The left side mirror was shattered, only there for appearance. One bumper was dark blue, mismatching the rest of the car, like they either couldn’t find a matching part, or they were too trashy to care. And it had a single bumper sticker of a red slap button with the word “Easy” on it. Classy.These two vehicles could not have been more contradictory if they tried.
There was the faintest sound of a love song coming from the barn. What in the…?
I opened the closest door and slipped inside. The bottom floor was empty. The noise was coming from upstairs, where there was a small room with a single bed. Another place we’d played as children. Before I could even think to look for a rope, a rhythmic banging stopped me in my tracks.
I stood there, not believing my ears, willing it to stop. There was only one thing in the world that made a sound like that. Flashbacks of my second year in college came rushing back. My dorm mate, Kinky Kenny, almost broke the wall between our rooms making that same sound.
