There was a clump in my throat and I couldn’t push anything past it.
“Because if anyone deserves it, it’s my Clementine.”
We hung up with a promise that Momma would be on the next charter home. But it didn’t matter. She was more than sixhours away and who knew when the next bus would leave. There was no one here to help me with what I had to face next.
As I’d been reminded repeatedly since the day we laid Sophie to rest, I was on my own.
twenty-nine
SILAS
Igave my family strict instructions to call the minute Clem got back.Ifshe came back. On the way, I must’ve called her at least ten times and texted twice that many. I kept the locater app reloading. But it kept coming back inconclusive. So I continued heading home, farther from Anna and the beach and closer, I hoped, to Clem.
Lisa had been tight-lipped when I called her the second time. She’d talked to Clem but wouldn’t give me a bit of info.
“I’m sorry, Silas. I can’t take sides. Just give her some time,” was all she’d said. It stung that she wouldn’t go up to bat for me. If James had been here, he would’ve had my back. And Sophie. Actually, Sophie would’ve smacked the back of my head and told me to fix the unmitigated disaster I’d single-handedly made. I would’ve deserved it.
The ride back was the longest four hours of my life.
The gate at the end of Firefly Fields was closed and locked. It didn’t mean that Clem wasn’t here. Just that possibly she’d come through and chained it behind her. It looked like I was hiking a half-mile to the house. I parked in the grass and got out.
“Nobody’s home,” BJ Shumaker called from his porch.
“Clem didn’t come through here this evening?” I had to be sure.
He shook his head. “Just got done checking their cows and feeding Lisa’s cat. The farm is locked up for the night.” He walked down off the porch, across his lawn, toward me. “Lisa won’t be home for a couple more days and Lemon’s on vacation too, I think Miss Lisa said.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I pretended to know none of that. The last thing I needed was to have to explain to BJ what a jackwagon I’d been. “Thank you.”
He scratched his forehead. “I thought you were living here. Do you want the key?”
It was tempting. I could go to the house and wait for Clem. Park my rear on her porch, so I was the first thing she saw when she pulled up. But with her ignoring all my attempts at communication, I was pretty sure it would do more harm than good. I couldn’t take that chance.
I waved. “No, that’s okay. I’m going to head over to my parents’ house. Thanks.” What I wanted was to wait in the car at the end of her driveway in case she did come by. But with BJ playing neighborhood watch, that wasn’t an option.
BJ still looked befuddled, but I had bigger fish to fry. What if I’d driven all this way, and she was still near Sandbridge somewhere, processing? Or maybe she had stopped in Richmond—done some retail therapy, as Sophie always called it, drowned her sorrows in a good meal—and was on her way. Or possibly she was back at the beach house and they’d forgotten to call.
I rang Ashton.
“Still not here,” he said without a hello.
“Anna hasn’t heard from her?”
“No, man. None of us have.”
We sat there in silence. I chewed my lip. BJ was still watching me from his rocking chair.
“What’re you going to do?” he asked.
I put the car in gear and flipped a U-turn. “Go sleep at the ranch and check again in the morning. Not sure what else to do.”
“Mom’s freaking out about the ninety-day thing. She’s scared of this going before a judge.”
I rubbed my forehead. Normal people might be tempted to lie to Arlo. I mean, he’d never know if we didn’t tell him. But Duprees were Boy Scouts when it came to honesty. Do What’s Right, Even When No One’s Looking was literally our family motto. It’s one reason I’d tried so hard not to deceive Christy or Clem this summer. Even if I had failed miserably.
But any hope of finding Clem was fading with the sunset to the west. “Hopefully Arlo will understand.” It was a weak answer, but it was the best I had.
“Christy’s calmed down,” Ashton said. “Spent the entire evening with Holden on the beach.”
