“You two showed up just in time.” Lindy walked into the kitchen, looking way more put together than she should forsomeone who’d spent the last couple of hours cooking for her entire family, and returned the cordless phone to its base.
“This smells amazing, Mom,” Norah said, and I agreed as I made eye contact with Lindy and shyly held up my pie.
“I brought dessert,” I said and met her halfway into the room to hand it over.
Lindy took the pie and brought it close to her face, closing her eyes and inhaling slowly. “Mmm. Peach bourbon,” she said, opening her eyes and giving me a warm smile.
“Just like you taught me,” I said, smiling back.
“I knew that would come back to bite me.” Her voice was teasing but no less confusing as she palmed the pie dish and cradled my cheek with her free hand. “Because this smells like a blue ribbon pie.”
Relief washed over me with the compliment, and I let out an embarrassed, breathy laugh.
She shot me a wink before walking the pie over to the stove and resting it on the back burner, letting the lingering heat keep it warm. “I was hoping the boys would be here by now, but that was them on the phone.” She turned back to us and used a dish towel to wipe at a non-existent mess on the counter. “Truck broke down out by the cattle crossing.”
“Again?” Norah asked, and something about that hit me like a wave of déjà vu. The sensation was a little…unsettling. “I think it’s time to retire that rig.”
“I don’t disagree,” Lindy said, “but regardless, they need a rescue. Would you two mind swinging out there to pick them up?”
“Ugh, they owe us.” Norah rolled her eyes dramatically as she grabbed her keys, but the tone of her voice didn’t match her visible frustration. It almost sounded like she was…hiding something. Lindy, too, for that matter.
Had I missed something? Why the heck was everyone acting so freaking weird lately?
A twinge of something—unease, anticipation, or maybe both—flared in my chest, but I buried it and followed Norah out the door to go “rescue” the boys.
Apparently, rescuing the boys called for a soundtrack of love songs.
Love songs.
Norah didn’t listen to love songs but—hey—things were already weird enough, so what harm was adding one more weird thing to the list?
My eyes darted to the radio display, watching the timer tick down on the last few remaining seconds of “Thank God” by Kane Brown before it changed to another song—one I’d never heard, but it was beautiful. A man’s voice poured through the truck speakers—soft, breathy, and slightly raspy—blending with the melody in the most nostalgic and delicate way as he sang about letting go and holding someone up.
I snatched Norah’s phone from the console.
“Hey!” she exclaimed, reaching for it but I plastered myself against the passenger door, blocking her hand with my arm as I thumbed through the rest of the songs on the playlist.
“‘Never Til Now.’ ‘Cowboy Take Me Away.’ ‘I Cross My Heart…’” I tucked the phone to my chest and curled into it, glaring at Norah from over my shoulder. “Norah McKade, are you trying to woo me?”
“Give it back,” she said, laughing around the words as the truck swerved a little.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I countered. “These lovey dovey tunes aresooonot you.”
“I have a soft side not many people see.” She made another grab for the phone and huffed when I dodged it.
“Ohpuh-lease.You’re such a radio hog andrefuseto play anything other than classic rock and upbeat nineties country—in the truck, the house, and even when you take over the jukebox at the Spur.”
“Not true,” she shot back.
My eyes widened as a disbelieving laugh blew past my lips. “You literally smacked my hand when I tried to change the station to pop last week.”
“Well, don’t try to change the music now or you’re gonna ruin it,” she said, darting her eyes from the road to my hand curled around her phone.
I’m not sure how, but my eyes widened even more. “Ruinwhat?” I practically shouted. “What the hell is go—” A flash of gold blinked at us from up ahead. “What’s that?”
It looked like something—definitely not a truck, but smaller—was parked diagonally across the road, and the last of the sun kept catching on the windshield as it sank lower into the horizon, flashing more of that gold that had caught my eye. My body loosened from the tight curl it’d been in, and the hand holding Norah’s phone slowly dropped to my lap as I leaned forward in my seat—narrowing my eyes as I tried to make out…
Oh my God.
