She baited another hook before digging into the bag of sandwiches and snacks. “Do you want one of these?”
“Sure.” I nodded, and she passed me one of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I had made a couple days ago.
Biting into her sandwich, she said, “I don’t remember you ever being a big fisherman when we were younger.”
“I wasn’t. I didn’t really get into it until after college when I moved here.”
“It’s a hobby that will stick with you until you’re old. I can respect it.” She paused. “I actually took up reading while I was traveling. I wouldn’t call myself a hugebookworm, but I try to read at least ten pages of a book a day.”
“Yeah?” I stopped what I was doing, wanting to be fully invested in her stories and let her know that I genuinely cared about what she did when we were apart.
“I made a habit of finding little free libraries all over the country.” She huffed out a breath, which was half a laugh. “I’d take a book, then leave a different one that I’d found in another town or state. Maybe one day when I’m settled, I’ll build one of my own.”
“I think you and Isabelle—that’s Reid’s girlfriend—would get along really well. She reads like three hundred books a year.”
Sierra blew a raspberry as she baited her hook. “I’m not quite at that level.”
“What’s been your favorite book you’ve read?”
By the look in her eyes, I never would have expected the answer.
“I have so many favorites. I read a fantasy once about a girl from a different realm who has been cursed to lose all her memories and start over on Earth every time she’s killed by the man she loves. I also read a dark comedy about a female serial killer who gets into a fake marriage with the detective who’s assigned to catch her. But the kicker is that they don’t know each other’s identities.” She chuckled to herself. “You’re not going to believe this one, but I actually also likedTo Kill a Mockingbird.”
A deep belly laugh escaped me. “Wait, is that the book Keenan had to read in high school? The one I grabbed from the library for him that one day?”
Pink streaked across her cheeks. “Yeah. Can you believe that?”
“That was the day you told me you got themembership forms signed for high school rodeo.” Conflicting feelings warred inside me at the memory. While I was happy she was able to compete in something we both loved, the memory of Sierra wincing in pain at a brush of my hand over her arm was burned into my memory.
There were so many things I would have done differently if I’d known what she was going through, had she let me in fully.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
sierra
OCTOBER, SOPHOMORE YEAR
If you want to compete, you’ll just need to get these forms filled out, then turn them in,” Alyssa explained as she scrolled on the Montana High School Rodeo Association website. “You’ll also have to pay your membership dues, but then you’ll be able to enter into competition for the spring season!”
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I read the requirements for the forms.
Both parent signatures are required.
There was no way in hell my father was going to let me participate in rodeos. He didn’t even know that when I wasn’t home, I was spending time at Hayden’s place practicing. If he found out, there would surely be issues—if not for me, then for Mom, who usually was the one picking me up. Lately, though, I’d had Hayden just drop me off back at the school since he had his driver’s license and have Mom pick me up there. At least then my lie of staying late after school wouldn’t be a lie for her.
“You think you can manage that?” Alyssa pulled me back out of my thoughts.
I nodded, a little too quickly to be convincing, but I didn’t think she noticed. “I’ll get it done as soon as I can.”
“Perfect. We—Hayden, Keenan, and I—are really excited to have you compete. I think you’ll do really well, Sierra.”
I dipped my chin, trying to hold back the smile but failing. “Thanks.”
When I got back home that evening, having chosen to walk from the school, the air was already tense.
“Where have you been?” A gruff voice greeted me with accusation.
“I had to finish up some work at school.” The lie rolled off my tongue with ease, like I’d been doing it for years—which I had. “Where’s Mom?”
