Kerrielynn looked at him and blinked. “They don’t?”
He took a moment, choosing his words with care. “I thinktheythink they don’t like each other.”
“Makes sense.” Kerrielynn nodded. “But, really, they are so into each other. Am I right?”
“Maybe.” As much as he’d like to think Kerrielynn was someone he could talk to...well, people were good at hiding who they really were. Or pretending to be someone they weren’t. He didn’t think Kerrielynn was like that but he wasn’t about to let his guard down, not yet.
“You don’t talk much, you know that?” Kerrielynn laughed. “But I guess I talk a lot. At least, my parents say I do. And my little brother, Ford. He says I never shut up. Brothers...” She glanced his way. “I just ran into yours at the Honey Hill Farms booth. I sort of got the impression Dane didn’t know you were here.”
“Just now?” Leif stopped screwing the lids back on the paint bottles. “Dane is here?” He was in so much trouble. His gaze scanned the crowd. Dane was easy to spot, as tall and big as he was.
“You two didn’t come together?” Kerrielynn asked.
“No.” He’d left before the sun was up and been lucky enough to hitch a ride or he’d probably still be walking. Leif glanced her way. He’d come here for one reason and, because he was too chicken to spit it out, he’d wound up cleaning paintbrushes and opening paint jars that were screwed on too tight.
“Are things...okay?” She adjusted the paintbrush beside the cup of paint. “I mean...in general. At home and stuff?” She was staring at him—he just knew it. “Well, you know.”
He knew all right. He was a screwup. He’d done it to himself—wanted to keep everyone at arm’s length. Hanging out with Eddie, meant hanging out with all the Dwyer brothers. They didn’t give a crap about anything. He wanted to be like that, too. But he’d never meant for anyone else to get hurt. He felt like an ass, that she’d been caught in the middle of it. She hadn’t been hurt, but she could have—and knowing that ate at him.Now is as good a time as any. “I’ve been meaning to say I’m sorry. The fight. I am, though.” He had a hard time meeting her gaze. “I didn’t mean for you to get pushed—”
“I know.” Kerrielynn cut him off. “You didn’t push me, Leif. Clay did. You...you stopped to make sure I was okay and then...” She winced.
Then I got my head slammed into a locker?He nodded.
“You can’t let him get to you. Clay, I mean. He’s a dick. Plain and simple. He makes up stuff about everyone. He even told people we’d dated.” She glanced at him and shook her head. “We never dated or kissed or anything.”
Leifhadheard that rumor. Clay had gone on and on about it, saying Kerrielynn wasn’t a good kisser. There was no way Kerrielynn would ever get involved with someone like Clay.Or someone like me.“I didn’t believe that.”
“You didn’t?” Kerrielynn blew out a deep breath. “That’s a relief. People don’t ask, you know? They just believe what they hear, even when it’s stupid.” She glanced at him again. “Like the thing with Dane and Kate. I know that’s sonottrue. None of it.”
“How?” Leif waited. He didn’t believe it, either. Mostly. But their dad treated Dane like crap. Dad barely talked to Dane but when he did, he was a smart-ass—talking down to him, belittling his ideas and treating Dane like an outsider instead of family. Leif didn’t understand how the two of them wound up hating each other, but he knew they did. Even if Dane had wanted to get back at their father, he wouldn’t have done it that way. He was curious to find out how Kerrielynn could be so certain.
“Easy. Kate—she used to babysit me and my brother. She was not a nice person, at all. She lied, all the time. She’d have boys over and friends, she even told my parents I broke a vase they got for their wedding. But some guy did it. Thankfully, my mom believed me. She said Kate had this look on her face when she lied. She did, too, because I saw it and knew—Oops, there goes Kate lying again. Anyway, she didn’t babysit after that.” She took a deep breath and went on. “My mom was at the beauty salon when Kate and her sister came in and told Mrs. Svoboda about her affair.” She shook her head. “If Willadeene knows, everyone knows. Mom said Kate was really loud, too, like she wanted to be overheard. Plus, Mom said Kate was making the same face—her lying face—when she was telling the story. Mom says it’s a lie, too. And that people need to mind their own business. I agree.” She nudged him. “Andwhy would your brother be interested in Kate when he has someone like Tansy? It doesn’t make sense.”
Leif didn’t argue. He wasn’t so sure about his brother and Tansy but he was relieved to hear that some folk didn’t believe the BS Kate and that bitch, Willadeene Svoboda, were spreading.
“Ugh. I guess I do talk a lot.” Kerrielynn’s smile faded. “Sorry.”
She did. But it was nice. She was talking, not lecturing or taunting or drilling him with questions. Just talking—like he was someone worth talking to. “I don’t mind.” Leif managed to look her in the eye then.
“You don’t?” Kerrielynn’s eyes went round. “Cool.” She was smiling again.
Leif nodded, handing her more plastic cups to fill—in no hurry to leave. It was cool.Shewas cool. Dane would be mad at him, but Leif was pretty sure it would be worth it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHENTANSYWASgrowing up, she’d believed twilight on Honey Hill Farms was a magical time. Amidst the pollen heavy bee-friendly blooms of the esperanza, buttercups, verbena, purple coneflowers and sky blue asters, Granna Hazel had a hidden moonlight garden. She often teased Poppa Tom, saying the fairies needed their own flowers to tend and those bees wanting a midnight snack might be looking for something special—knowing full well bees stopped foraging after dark. Not that she’d ever needed to justify a thing when it came to Poppa Tom. She was his everything. If she wanted night-blooming flowers, she got them. Twilight teas and after-dinner coffees on the great wraparound porch were accompanied by the fragrant jasmine, the large white-and-purple datura trumpets, and vanilla-scented heliotrope. Tansy, Astrid and Rosemary had never found the fairies Granna Hazel mentioned, but they’d spent many an evening looking. Those were some memories Tansy treasured most—the nights of flashlight searches, giggles and fireflies beneath a star-crowded sky. Maybe that was why the porch of the great old house was a favored place.
Aunt Mags rarely missed her evening routine. She’d sit, rain or shine, on the wide wraparound porch sipping tea from a fine china teacup as the sun went down. This was her time to be quiet and center herself, she’d say.
While tonight’s sunset was lovely, Tansy was restless. Still, her gaze trailed the fluffy pink-and-tangerine marshmallow fluff clouds as they drifted across the lavender sky—each one more lovely than the last.
“You’re awful quiet this evening.” Aunt Mags sipped her tea, her gaze fixed on the evening sky.
“Just...tired, I guess.” Unsettled was more like it. She had been all day—jittery nervousness keeping her nerves pulled tight.
“Hmm,” Auntie Mags murmured, glancing her way.
Tansy lifted her arms so her seatmates, Jammie and Beeswax the cats, could arrange themselves, wedged between her and the calico-print cushions. “Better?” she asked as they settled. Jammie yawned, and Beeswax went back to snoring softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She cradled her teacup with both hands, breathing in the calming chamomile.Apparently, calm isn’t in the cards for me.She sighed, her mind turning over the morning’s events again.
