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“Hey,” she whispers. “Are you okay?”
I sniff, pulling the sleeping bag over my head. “Yeah, but Dad is really mad.”
She’s quiet for a second. “Yeah, he’s way more mad than I thought.”
That’s not very reassuring.
“Is Aunt Eugenia around? Maybe she can talk him down,” I say.
I hear the bed creak, and Serena’s feet pad across the floor. Without being there, I know she’s in her room, listening at her door to make sure nobody can overhear our conversation.
“She’s trying,” Serena says finally. “I broke it off with Colin a few days after you left.”
“What? Why?”
She sighs. “I’m not sure he can take more. He’s about to blow a fuse.”
“Damn it. I was really hoping he would…I don’t know…understand?”
“Me too.”
Her feet creak across the ancient ranch house floor, and her bed springs groan. I know she’s sitting up against the headboard, legs crossed, staring out the window facing the barn. We’ve had a million of these conversations about Dad, about our family. I’m just usually sitting on the end of her bed with my arms wrapped around my knees.
“Maybe I should fly to Mom’s when we get to Nashville,” I say.
The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I’m ashamed of wanting to run from the mess of problems I made, that Serena is now dealing with firsthand.
“No, never mind,” I amend.
“Maybe Mom would have a better perspective,” Serena says softly.
“Maybe.”
We’re both quiet for a long time. Outside, I hear Coen’s boots crunch. Serena must hear them too, because she giggles out of the blue.
“How’s the cowboy?” she asks.
“Oh, you know.” I shrug, rolling to my back to look at the ceiling.
“How’s the sex? You getting it good?”
I laugh, not caring that she’s asking. We’ve always been open about this kind of thing.
“Well, I don’t have any complaints,” I admit.
“So it’s all worth it, huh?”
Crunch—Coen’s boots are getting closer. “I gotta go. He’s about back to the tent. Call me in a couple days, okay?”
She promises to call, and I hang up the phone just as the zipper comes down to reveal Coen. I thought talking to Serena would help me even out emotionally. For some reason, the second he appears, a lump in my throat rises. My lower lip trembles. His brows draw together, and he steps in, zipping back up.
“Hey, you okay?” His voice drops.
I nod, blinking hard. “Yeah, sorry.”
He sinks down, boots and clothes on, to lay beside me. “You look like you’re about to cry, baby.”
He’s talking so softly, all my defenses crumble. The tears come thick and fast. Dimly, I feel his arm slide around my body, and he pulls me to his chest. I forget how big and broad he is until his body is right up on mine, and then there’s nothing but him. He’s everywhere, solid and smelling so good, I inhale through my tears.
