I could argue, but I’m pretty sure it would be the equivalent of me trying to catch the rain and put it back in the sky, so I go in, grabbing the remote to the winch, and we work together. Lark does a great job securing the clip, so we won’t rip off her truck’s grille when I pull it. Then she gets in her truck, hopefully putting it in neutral, and flashes her lights.
Taking that as a sign she’s ready, I pull so the winch is tight and start to move her as slowly as I can. Inch by inch, we get the truck to come forward enough so that it’s now safely off the road. Lark hops out of her truck, disconnects the clip as I pull the winch back in, and climbs into my cab.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“You’re welcome. I’ll go hook my horse trailer back up, and then we can go.”
She nods, and I back up to try to reconnect. I could just leave it here, but I don’t want to deal with it getting stuck, which is most likely what will happen with the ridiculous rainfall we’ve had lately.
It takes me no time to dash outside to get it hitched, and I climb back in.
“You’re soaked,” I say, hating that I give away the fact I notice.
“We both are.”
I reach behind her seat, grabbing my bag and pulling out a dry shirt. “Here, throw this on.”
If she’s covered, I won’t be tempted to keep looking.
She clutches it to her chest. “I’m fine, but thank you.”
“Suit yourself,” I say under my breath. I lean forward, pulling my shirt off and tossing the wet clothing in the back.
She shifts, turning her body toward the window, and I smirk. I reach back behind me, grabbing another shirt and putting it on.
Before either of us can say another word, her phone rings, and she immediately answers it. “Hello? Yes. I’m fine.” A pause. “I’m getting a ride with a neighbor.” I snort a laugh, there’s a reason she doesn’t want to say my name. “I understand that, but what did you want me to do? Sit out here all night? I thought you would at leasttryto come get me.” Another pause, and I can hear his voice getting louder. Lark sighs heavily. “I get that it was raining, I was stuck in it—with a flat tire and I couldn’t get off the road because I was stuck in the mud.”
The person I’m assuming is her deadbeat boyfriend is talking. I can’t make out his words, but Lark clearly doesn’t like that response, as she damn near growls: “You know what? I’m not having this conversation right now because I’m going to say something I don’t mean. I’m going home, Tristan is going to drive me, and we can talk tomorrow. Good night.”
She hangs up, then tosses her phone into her purse and stares out the passenger window. I remember when my wife would do that. She’d get so angry that she couldn’t look at anyone, or she’d cry. I learned the best way to handle it was to let her have her time, so I don’t say a word as I pull back out onto the road, heading toward the Gatlin farm.
It’s been nine years. Nine years without Emmy Jo. Nine years of raising Sadie alone.
Some days it feels like yesterday. Others it’s been a lifetime.
I don’t even make it a quarter of a mile before she shifts in her seat. “What is wrong with men? Are you all stupid?”
“Considering you’re in my truck after I just spent forty minutes in the rain helping you out, I wouldn’t lump us all together.”
“Fine, not all, but…seriously? He didn’t even make an effort. Who does that?”
“Assholes,” I answer.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Clearly that’s what I attract. He was just going to leave me out there. He figured when he didn’t hear from me, I called one of my brothers.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew what they’d say,” she admits.
I can’t wait to hear this one.
“Which is?”
Lark plays with the ring on her thumb. “That I should get rid of him. No one in my family likes Jeremy.”
I know that feeling. My sisters date some real winners—and bywinnersI meanfucking losers. Guys who would undoubtedly leave them out in the rain to possibly get hit on the side of the road. I know exactly what I’d say to them as well.
“But you keep him around,” I remind her. “Even though your brothers probably see something you don’t.”
