“Grab some molasses and don’t change the subject.”
I passed Emma two tubs of molasses and climbed down from the platform, brushing dust from my clothes as I hit the ground. “I’m not. I just don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean the fact that you and Joe live in the same house but hardly ever speak. I can deck him for you if he’s making your life miserable by being a grumpy little shit.”
“He’s not grumpy. He’s—” He’s what? I couldn’t find a word that quite fit Joe. Mysterious. Raw. Kind. Funny. Rude. They all fit, but none told the whole story. “We do speak.”
“Uh-huh.” Emma eyed me. “I can still deck him. I’m sure he deserves it for one reason or other.”
“Not going to break his cheekbone again, are you?”
Emma’s face fell. “He told you about that?”
I nodded. “Last night. We had a few whiskys.”
“Oh god. He’s a nightmare when he gets on that stuff. He either thinks he’s the funniest man alive or cries because he’s worried that he’s just like Dad.”
“Is he? Like your dad, I mean?”
Emma’s frown deepened. “That’s a tough question. My brother’s a complex beast.”
I’d figured that much out for myself, and I had a complicated brother of my own, but I followed Emma to the tack room in the hope that she’d continue.
“Ah, here it is.” She tugged a huge sack out from behind a teetering tower of saddles. “What on earth has he put this in here for?”
“He’s complex, remember? You may never work it out.” I took the sack from her and lifted it to my shoulder. “Where do you need this?”
“Back in the feed store. Poor old Tauna needs her breakfast.”
We returned to the feed store. Emma mixed a bucket of bran mash and molasses with warm water while she pondered my question about Joe. “He is like Dad sometimes—impulsive and daft. They’ve got the same soft heart too, like Grandpa, but he’s a better man than Dad... stronger, I guess. He works so hard, day in, day out, doing the same stuff over and over again, just to keep this place standing. Jonah doesn’t have that in him. Never has.”
She seemed to speak to herself as much as me. We took the bucket of overdue breakfast out to Tauna and her stablemate, Carric.
“Joe was wild when we were young,” she went on as we rubbed the old mares patchy coats down with bundles of clean hay. “Mum couldn’t keep him indoors. He was always off riding Mani or climbing up buildings and stuff. He loved to surf too, but then Dad started messing things up at the stud farm, and Grandpa got old. Joe picked up the slack, and he’s been doing it ever since. As long as the farm is still going, I don’t think he’ll ever get his life back. And some days, I don’t think he even wants it. I’m the anxious one, but Joe gets so down when he’s tired. I think he’s lonely, so I’m glad he has you, even if it is just for the summer.”
Emma’s speech was long and rambling, but I absorbed every word and filed them away in the “Joe” part of my brain. The part that had also taken up residence in depths of my heart I’d thought were barren. That Joe was ever lonely tore me up, but what could I do? Iwasonly here for the summer, and I didn’t have enough rope for the both of us.
* * *
The pattern of Joe disappearing at dawn continued all week. By Thursday, I was beginning to feel a little paranoid. I sat at my desk, staring out of the window, texting Rhys periodically, though my mind was wholeheartedly on Joe. For the last three days, he’d come back around eleven, but it was midday now, and there was still no sign of him.
I licked my lips, as I had about a million times since our drunken sofa encounter, like I could still taste Joe on them. Part of me was embarrassed for practically throwing myself at him, but the majority of my Joe-themed daydreams were taken up with recalling the scorching heat of his touch that night and fretting over the fact that we’d barely locked eyes since.
Which was my fault as much as his. I’d taken to skipping Sal’s dinners and eating alone when everyone had gone, and by then, Joe was often asleep—or, at least, I assumed he was. I didn’t have the balls to stick my head in the living room.Bloody idiot. And I didn’t understand why. My demons had plenty of lairs, but my sex life wasn’t usually one of them. Not that I’d had sex with Joe. Or was planning to.
Shit. My brain felt like it was about to explode. I thought about going for a run or a drive, but for the first time in forever, I wasn’t in the mood to pound the streets, and my car was still in the garage. Which left work. Lots of work. And I was already behind.
It was lunchtime when I heard Joe’s van coming up the lane. I was still in my room but found myself at the top of the stairs as he pulled into the yard. When I got outside, Lacey and Jemima were piling out of the van, giggling and clutching brown envelopes.
Lacey leapt on me. “I got three As!”
“Um... Okay?” I gave her a hug and then set her back on the ground. “That’s great. What for?”
“A-levels,” Jemima said, coming up on me too. “It’s results day. I got two As and a B, so I got into Exeter uni!”
“Wow. That’s awesome. Where are you going, Lacey?”
“Liverpool,” Lacey said. “Joe wrote me a character reference to help me get into veterinary school, and now I’ve got my results, I’m definitely in!”
