“Like three different people. Seriously, everyone’s talking about it.”
“Unbelievable.” I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. “Funny how he won’t stop blowing up my phone, begging me to let him come home. And I like how he left out the part where I slashed all his tires when I caught him cheating.”
She gasped, then hooted and offered me a high five.
I left her hanging and crossed my arms. “So the whole town has been gossiping behind my back and you never thought to say anything? Or ask my side of the story?” I was probably more hurt about that than I was about Billy lying to everyone. I expected that from Billy. But Peyton? We’d been friends since before I opened the studio and spent countless hours working out together.
She finally noticed I was a person with feelings and came around the counter to hug me. “Oh, Lemon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to upset you.” She squeezed me tighter. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody believes him. It’sBillyafter all,” she said, like he was the biggest dimwit in the county. Had everyone known my husband was a narcissistic douche but me?
Sophie had always known. And Daddy. But he hadn’t been around in the last three years to remind me every time I saw him. Oh, what my daddy would’ve done if he were here. My tire-slashing escapade would’ve looked like child’s play.
I stood there as stiff as Silas, outta my mind, incensed, while Peyton laid her head on my shoulder, rubbing my back. I wished so bad that Sophie was here. She’d post the naked pictures on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. And then textthem to every single person she knew. And she wouldn’t care about the consequences.
But I would never do that.
Because while it might feel vindicating to humiliate Billy, it would also humiliate me.
Slashing Billy’s tires would probably be the most fearless thing I ever did. They could etch it on my headstone if they wanted. But it wasn’t who I was. It was something that I’d done. Once. On the worst day of my life.
I slunk out from under her hug. “I gotta go. I don’t want to get y’all sick.”
“Lemon,” Peyton cried, but I didn’t slow down. I stepped around her, ripped my mask off and threw it in the trash.
“C’mon, Lem. Don’t be mad.”
I pulled my phone out of my purse, my hands practically convulsing. As soon as I got in the truck, I was going to give Billy a piece of my mind.
One more step toward the door, my legs gave out and everything went black.
twelve
SILAS
Isat up in the saddle and straightened my back, trying to get the ache to go away.
“Dad,” I hollered. “I really need to get back to Clem’s and get some of that fence line cleaned up.”
Dad had said we were tagging eleven calves but once we got going, he'd decided to brand them as well. I usually didn’t mind working calves. But Dad had me on Fred, our old quarter horse, ready to rope any calves that got too testy or tried to make a break for it. So far, I’d had to rope just two. Dad and Holden were doing the dirty work, wrangling the calves to the ground, fighting their hooves off long enough to pierce the cattle tag into their ears. Searing their skin with the DR brand. That was the fun stuff.
“I have to get back to Clem’s,” Holden said in a high-pitched voice. “She’s got you doing chores to earn your keep?”
“Shut it, Holey. She hasn’t asked me to do a single thing.” I growled. “Looks like Billy hasn’t lifted a finger over there in years. I’m just being helpful.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been there less than twenty-four hours and you’re already whipped.”
I was going to deck him if he didn’t shut up.
Mom stood in the middle of the corral, keeping everything organized in a notebook. She’d type it into the spreadsheet when we were done. She raised an eyebrow. “Should we have a work day over there?”
“I’m outta here Sunday,” Holden said, kneeling into a brown and white Hereford just enough to keep it pinned to the ground.
Dad slipped the ear tag applicator on and snapped it shut. The calf kicked and Dad and Holden jumped out of the way, letting it run back to its momma.
Just then, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my back pocket. I didn’t usually answer numbers I didn’t recognize, but it looked local and I wasn’t doing anything else at the moment.
“Hello?”
“Is this Silas?” The voice on the other end was female and southern.
