“I owe a friend a visit in Blue River Springs.”
Willow:Hey, I promise I haven’t been avoiding you. Just been a little hectic here.
Rose:Sorry, who’s this?
Willow:You did not delete my number already. It’s your best friend.
Rose:You must be confused. My best friend is right here.
I get a picture of Rose with a little girl with shiny auburn curls and bright blue eyes. They’re sitting on a porch showing off their matching beaded bracelets.
Willow:Well then, I’ll just have to find another friend to visit for a few days. Bye.
My phone rings instantly and I smile as I swipe up.
“Shut up. Are you messing with me? Are you finally going to come visit?”
I laugh. “I’m not messing with you. I’ve missed you. Packed a bag but no place to go since my bestie replaced me.”
“Beat it, squirt,” I hear her say to someone who giggles in response. “Assuming this isn’t some cruel joke, what’s the occasion? Is it my birthday?” she gasps. “Is your mother in town?”
I attempt another lighthearted laugh. “No, no. The bar is closed temporarily for a C-rating so I’ve got a few days off.”
It’s not a complete lie. Billy’s bar did have to close two weeks ago, but we remedied the issues and it wasn’t shut down for too long. And since Rose used to work there with me, she buys it.
“Poor Billy. Well, I’d love to have you. When can you come? Wilder left this morning with his brother for a few days so it’s just me and Ellie until Friday.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that Rose is wide open for a visitor.
When I get there, I’ll tell her the truth.
Probably.
I hate lying but I’m also too proud to help it sometimes.
3
The trouble with having a best friend who’s a therapist—or in school to become one—is you can’t hide anything. The moment I arrived with my bags—Rose knew something was up.
My flight landed after nine o’clock in the evening and Ellie was asleep, so Rose’s brother, Wesley, picked me up from the airport.
He hung out for just enough time to show off his cooking skills with a three-course dinner, and to brag about howhewas right and I was wrong about Rose moving to the Mountain West.
Out of the three of us, he did most of the talking, while I tried not to focus on how my best friend was studying me silently until he left.
“Tea?” Rose asks now, stepping out onto the back porch with two steaming mugs.
I’m sitting out here on the swing, under a thick plaid blanket, enjoying the crisp air.
“I’ve had a long day,” I warn her, accepting a warm cup.
“I didn’t say anything.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip, then continue to stare off to a distant light over by the side of the river.
She follows my gaze. “Oh, that’s Dallas’s house over there.”
I squint at the structure that looks too far away to still be on the ranch. “I thought he and his daughter live here.”
