CARRY ME AWAY

ASHLEY WESTON

Copyright © 2023 by Ashley Weston

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Also by Ashley Weston

The Light Within

Trigger Warning:

-Chronic illness

-Trauma

-Talk of Suicide

-Self-harm

-Abuse

This book is dedicated to all my fellow chronic illness friends. You’re not alone. You’re worth loving. You’re enough exactly as you are.

“Death is easy. Living is the hard part.”

​— ​AMY HARMON

PROLOGUE

Harper

Nineteen years ago, my life changed forever. It was my tenth doctor’s appointment that year, and it wasn’t even summer yet. The room was cold. Bright fluorescent lights illuminated the walls that bore down on me. Almost as if they were laughing at me. Mocking me. The feeling was suffocating. I couldn’t breathe. Each moment of waiting in anticipation was another breath of air not being inhaled. I unconsciously rubbed at my arms, trying to release the bumps pricking my skin.

With several years of pain down my belt and numerous experiences that a young girl shouldn’t have to feel when all the other girls were running to dance class and riding bikes in the middle of the street, I felt much older. My body felt much older. The joints didn’t bend right, the movements felt stiff, and if I was being honest, I sometimes felt more understood by my sixty-year-old adopted grandmother than anyone my age.

That was why I was here in this medical exam room that would forever be imprinted in my mind. To haunt my future dreams and make me ask the forever question of, why me? Answers wouldn’t come, and I was tired of being told no one knew what was wrong with me, to take some over-the-counter medicine and be on my way. Today’s specialist was supposed to have answers.

I needed answers.

I couldn’t help but focus on the color shirt I wore that day. Crisp, pure white, covered in small lavender flowers. It was ironic that I wore this, seeing how lavender aided in relief, creating calm and serenity, when that was the opposite of my inner feelings.

As Dr. Green entered the room, my heart dropped into the middle of my stomach. I wanted to vomit, but I knew that wouldn’t solve anything. He wore black, which was fitting to the circumstances. He made small talk for a few minutes with my mom, all of which I gladly tuned out. I anticipated him getting to the point, bile rising. The words flowed out of his mouth like gunshots, and my mind zeroed in on each syllable.

“The blood test showed you have Ankylosing Spondylitis. Which is quite uncommon for one so young, let alone a female. It is most common in older males around the age of sixty. We don’t know what caused this, except that it could be somewhere in your genes…”

I didn’t hear anything else.

His mouth moved, my mother’s as well, and yet everything blurred, and my mind couldn’t conjure any sounds.

Ankylosing Spondylitis? What in the world was that? Would I be okay? What was wrong with me? And the last question that haunted me for years to come: was I going to die?

The entire drive home felt like slow motion. Words running on repeat over and over again. My mother tried to explain things to me. I had a type of arthritis that was rare. It was soaked throughout my bones, and instead of being hyper-focused on one area of the body, like some types of arthritis, it centered in my spine and spread throughout the entirety of it. If I wasn’t careful, I could make things worse—a lot worse. My physical activity had to stop. Not that I could do much right now anyway with how I hurt constantly.

She tried to reassure me. She tried to tell me how everything would be okay. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. My childhood would never be the same. No more volleyball. No more adventures. Anything that would cause me to fall boosted my chances of fusion—joints sticking together forever—and that took many more things away from my grasp.

I wanted to cry.

I couldn’t.

I needed to scream.

I wouldn’t.

How could this be happening to me? I only ever wanted to do what was right. I never broke a house rule. I never skipped class. I always sat quietly in church on Sundays, and I said my prayers every night. I watched my sugar intake, and I always smiled at strangers. I tried my best to be a good little girl. Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?

I saw my house come into view, and as the car slowed to a stop, I jumped out and ran straight to the backyard, where my tree house sat. The one place I always ran to.

“Harper?” my mother called after me, and for once, I ignored her.

Allowing my aching limbs to carry me away, I started to run. It hurt. But I did it anyway. The tears built up and trickled slowly down my face as my lungs began to burn. Stumbling up the rope steps, I crawled my way to the top. Wiping at my tears, I hoisted myself up, screaming out in pain and crumbling to the wood plank floor. I heard a shuffle and opened my eyes to find my brother’s hand dangling in front of me.

“That bad?” I heard him say in a sigh of defeat.

I nodded, no words coming to the surface. Just like he had promised, he was right there, waiting for me.

“Bro, can you help me move her?” He looked at Everett, his best friend, though I didn’t realize he was there, as they each took an arm and dragged me across the floor.

I grimaced while tightening my eyelids shut, willing away my tears.

“I wish we were stronger.”

They’d already wished for big muscles. The thought would have been amusing had I not been trying not to cry in front of Everett.

Jasper pulled me up and into his arms for an awkward hug. “Ev, can you go get an ice pack and some medicine from my mom?”

Everett nodded and touched my bent knee before he left. “You got this, Harp.”

I wanted to smile, but I couldn’t. I just… couldn’t.

“It’s going to be okay, sis.”

I shook my head against his shoulder. What ten-year-old brother allowed his baby sister to cry on his shoulder? I didn’t believe it would be all right. He wasn’t there.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head, the tears free-falling while burning my cheeks like fumes from a fire.

He walked me over to a blanket set up on the floor with my favorite snack and drink waiting for me. I wanted to smile and reassure him. I wanted to let him know I was going to be fine. But the will to… vanished. My heart felt broken. And I didn’t even know what that was supposed to feel like.

The minutes ticked by so slowly and quietly that I thought for sure Jasper had fallen asleep next to me. I shuffled, moving my arm under me as the tears never stopped.

“You aren’t alone. I’m right here. I got you.”

I didn’t understand at the time how much that phrase would mean to me, but it became my mantra for life. During every dark day and every darker night. Even at such a young age, Jasper knew more than most, and I knew he was supposed to be my brother. He didn’t deserve it. He should have been able to live a normal childhood too. He should have been the annoying older brother who liked to tease and found me to be a nuisance. Living his own life. But he didn’t. He chose to be by me. And those words that day stuck to me like glue on my heart. No matter how hard it got, no matter what the future would bring, I was not alone.

1

HARPER

I was a low battery left inside an old toy. I wanted to work right, and occasionally, if held the right way, I did. Being left in the back of the bin, my terminals couldn’t connect, supplying no constant power.

I sat in the driver’s seat of my fifteen-year-old sedan, blasting the music as high as I could, hearing John Mayer’s voice encapsulating the tiny space. The lyrics permeated within, wandering around in my head like it was a soundtrack to my own life. All the events that had transpired up to this point ran circles in my mind. Me. Driving in a car nine hours away from my home. Alone, scared, but ready to make a change.

My phone rang as Mom popped up on the caller ID. I silenced the sound as it was the sixth time she had called on my drive.

My parents cared to the point of it taking me turning twenty-three, graduated and teaching for two years, to realize I could no longer rely on them and still live in their basement. That was three years ago, and a lot had changed since then.

My phone beeped again. I inwardly groaned, not ready to answer a seventh time.

“Hello?”

“No need to bite my head off. I was just checking in on you.” Charly, my roommate, responded in thick sarcasm.

“Sorry, I thought you were my parents. Again.”

“How many times have they called?”

“Six times too many.”

She snorted.

A long drive and a summer trip, away from where I was comfortable and what I knew, was the medicine I needed. Martha, my adopted grandmother, and Jasper, my older brother, had been ecstatic when I called them up a few weeks ago. It took some convincing before they believed I was coming. Too much time had passed being away from people I adored. Not to mention that I had never been on a trip by myself anywhere.

Marlow’s Boys Ranch, here I come.

Stretching my neck, I switched the phone to my other hand. “They don’t like that I’ve cut the umbilical cord.”

My parents were good people. They raised me right, taught me how to be a good person, to love others, and to take care of myself. I couldn’t have asked for better people to love me throughout my life.

“Well, that’s understandable. They’ve never had to live a life where you were the one in charge. This is different for them. Give them time to adjust.”

“I know. You’re right.”

“Of course, I am. I’m always right.” I imagined her smirking, knowing full well how much she loved to say that. “How’s the drive?”

“It’s long. I’ve had to stop more than I hoped to stretch my legs, but I’m almost there.” I shifted again in my seat. “I wish you were coming with me.”

“Though I know how much more enjoyable this trip would be with my presence, you need this. For you.”

I was quiet. The sadness I’d endured this last year was more than my usual bout of melancholy. It came and went with the never-ending pain. Something about this year of teaching difficult students, not having my brother around, and feeling like I’d lost a little purpose moving forward, had really driven home to me how much I needed a break. Luckily, I had the perfect place to go.

“You got this. I’m right here on the other side of the phone. Call me whenever you want.”

“Thanks, girl.”

“You tell me how that handsome brother of yours is. Maybe pinch his butt for me?” Her hopeful voice was too much.

“In your dreams.”

“If only.” I could imagine how she was saying that, looking off into the distance, as if she could dream it up, image by image.

“Stop thinking about my brother.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can. Go find yourself a boyfriend.”

“Ditto. Takes one to know one.”

“Touché.” Smiling, I slowed down at the first Stop sign entering the town. “Your problem is you’re too picky, not that you don’t have options. I, on the other hand…”

“We’re not finishing that sentence, Miss Recluse. I’m off to grade papers. Go enjoy yourself and call me later with updates.”

“Will do. Thanks for checking in.” I made a smooching sound just to annoy her.

She chuckled, and I ended the call.

Where was my life before Charly?

I now lived with Charly in our apartment complex with an eighty percent population of elderly couples. Leaving it to fate for new opportunities to meet other single men. We loved making our Sunday rounds of baked goods for our favorite neighbors who didn’t make noise past six p.m. I had my own routine, my own bills to pay, and with each baby step, I was learning to become more self-reliant.

We’d met early on in high school, but we weren’t close friends until we majored in the same degree and got hired at the same school. She taught kindergarten, and I taught first grade. It was a roommate match made in heaven. Though we were vastly different in every other aspect of our lives. She was dark and full of Greek legendary genes, where I was English, light, and fair-skinned. She was fun and not afraid to talk to people, and I was, well, the exact opposite. Where she helped me lighten up, I helped her take things more seriously.

I’d learned long ago that if I wanted to have a happy life or to enjoy pieces of life, I would have to shift my outlook. Truthfully, I had spent many years in sadness, wallowing in my room for something that never came. I knew that was not a way to be a successful human being, so I got myself up, dusted off my backside, and swallowed my pride. Asking for help when I needed to, I turned a corner. After finishing high school early and getting my degree in teaching, I now spent my days with six-year-old children, teaching them how to read and write and find excitement in the things many of us took for granted.

Between school, teaching, tutoring, and my health, I hadn’t been able to visit Jasper and see all that he had accomplished. I knew he understood—he understood everything. I wished to be a better sister to him, and this was a first step in that direction.

Passing Main Street, where every building this small town had stood, I turned on my signal, heading off the worn dirt path toward the mountain range. I remembered the feel of this road. The divots under my seat as the tires made their way through the potholes and rocks. Dust swallowed my Honda and me whole. The road was lined with thick, luscious trees from years of growth and care, and a wire fence holding the pastures behind them at bay while horses and cattle roamed idly by. Memories flooded back as the little girl stared, star-eyed, out the window, knowing our destination was close. The entire landscape surrounded me in mountains topped with white, holding me tightly in this world I loved so dearly.

The red barn off in the distance came into view, the one we used to stay in and Jasper and I would bunk on the old loft up high, looking out the window, trying to catch the stars. Only now, there were several other buildings surrounding it. A new brown barn where horses came and went with their riders; a large steel garage twenty feet across; and there, sitting stoically next to the turnoff near the creek’s bend, stood a beautiful, cabin-like ranch house. Its dark chestnut wood beams lined the entire two-story exterior. A porch wrapped around the base with an inviting swing welcoming all visitors. Large windows lined the front, reflecting the sunlight, and smoke rose from the chimney naturally. Even in the summer, mornings and evenings grew chilly, and Martha loved a running fireplace.

I couldn’t believe what once had been a small house and barn had now grown into this amazing opportunity for troubled young boys. People were coming and going from all avenues of the land, reflecting the growth that had happened over the years. It was the same place, but everything was entirely different. New. Alive. Refreshed. A surge of energy floated down my spine. It was simply breathtaking.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” I said to myself, inhaling fresh cut grass.

Emotions churned my stomach as I couldn’t decide between jumping for joy or losing my lunch. Shifting the gear to park, I turned off the ignition to embrace the sound of silence. When I opened the door, the rustle of the wind blowing through the trees stopped me, and I took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of mountain pine and hope.

I heard a clink, and my attention was drawn toward a man crouched over near the porch swing. Stretching my legs awkwardly, I faced the front of the ranch house. I couldn’t believe this was all here because of my brother. Any links to his life now were important to me, and I would need time to let it soak in.

“Excuse me.” I eyed the stranger ten feet from me. I cleared my throat, while fidgeting with my sleeve. “Could you tell me where I could find Jasper Mason?”

The figure turned to lift his head toward me, and I was met with a man glaring back at me, tool in hand. Something about him made me feel uneasy, but not in a dangerous way. His look wasn’t welcoming, but I stared anyway. His hair was dark like an espresso shot and tied into a messy bun at the back of his head. He wore jeans and boots covered in dirt as he knelt over something he was fixing. His beard was thick, bushy, and covered his face, making his expression unreadable. All I could see was confusion in his eyes. His piercing, gut-wrenching eyes.

The foreshadowing and familiarity sent a chill down my spine.

He was quite handsome, though his demeanor was as if he were hiding something, including himself, as his features were completely covered. He didn’t mumble two words in my direction. He just looked at me with an intensity I couldn’t explain. Maybe this man was mute or had no manners?

I tried to think of something to say—anything to end this awkward silence—but I couldn’t. The seconds inched by, and I moved uncomfortably under his stare when I heard the front door open.

“Harper, you made it.” Jasper’s voice was a breath of fresh air.

He walked down the few steps to meet me, and like how the ignition had turned off in my car, my cares went away. He swept me up into his brotherly arms and bear-hugged me. His sandy-blond hair and bright blue eyes gave away our relation. His beard, thick and full, was a new experience for me, scratching my cheek as we embraced.

I missed this. His overbearing hugs were my favorite. I found so much comfort in his embrace. Too many times to count, he had held me, crying as a child. He would never let me forget either.

“And just in time for the sun to set.” I placed hair that had fallen behind my ear. “What is this?” I scratched his jaw.

“You like?” He flexed his jaw, moving his head back and forth. “Don’t worry about the time. We have dinner already on the table.”

His easygoing smile radiated confidence, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His gaze told another story. Worn and tired. I scrunched my nose, questioning how my brother looked so grown up.

“It’s a rite of passage in these parts.”

“To grow a full beard?”

“Yeah. Johnny doubted I could grow one with my light hair. But boy, was he wrong.” Johnny was his sidekick. He tapped the top of my hair as if I were a puppy. “It’s so good to see you, Harp. You look different, lighter somehow.”

I hoped that was a good sign. The fact that I’d made it on this trip alone was empowering. I wanted to chase that feeling, hold on tightly and never let go.

“Thank you for letting me come stay with you. I’ve missed you too.” I placed my arm around his back. “I hope you haven’t been waiting on me.” I chewed on my bottom lip.

He grabbed my suitcase with one hand and put his free arm over me. “Nonsense. Everyone has been watching the window to see you coming up the road. You would think it was Christmas Day.”

“I hope you lowered their expectations… down by a million.”

“And crush their dreams of seeing a pretty girl? I don’t think so. It’s a novelty I won’t take away from boys stuck with more boys for months at a time.”

“You are making me nervous, Jasp.”

“I just want you to know we all want you here.” He smiled at me and grabbed around my shoulders.

I was tired of the fear that led to doing nothing. I knew fear, though hard, was the emotion that drove change. It led to shifting, evolving. And with time and therapy, I was ready to grasp it, even though my nerves would say otherwise.

It was time for a new battery. Or maybe not new, but an endless charge to keep the lights going.

“Just a couple of weeks, right?” my insecurity asked.

“We’re working on the entire summer, Harp. Just embrace it.” He squeezed my shoulder. I swallowed. “It’s getting cold as the sun sets. Let’s get you inside.” He kissed the top of my head. “Come on, Everett. Your dinner is getting cold.” He spoke in motion, as if it was no consequence to the man beside us. “You remember Everett, right?”

Everett? Everett Jones, best friend to my big brother growing up?

Of course, I remembered him. I just hadn’t recognized him as a grown man, all burly and muscular, covered in hair. Not to mention, he hadn’t spoken a word to me. Did he not care about acknowledging leaving us for all these years?

I had known his gaze seemed familiar. The difference between that Everett and this one was eight years of life. He was no longer a boy with his voice trying to develop and his lean, lengthy body trying to fit into his clothes. That, and I’d never once seen Everett as anyone other than Jasper’s friend—a cute, sweet, and terribly misunderstood friend.

Why was my heart pounding so hard that it felt visible to the world?

“Yes, I remember,” I said, though the sound of my voice was barely audible, and I kept my sight forward as Jasper walked us up the front steps.

Regardless of the cooler weather filtering in from the sky, my body temperature rose quickly, and the feeling of losing my lunch returned.

Everett stood up, his height almost reaching Jasper’s six foot two. I refused to look in his direction, but his presence was known.

“After you.” His deep, raspy words came out before he threw down his tool in the toolbox, making another loud clunk.

I jolted at the sound. I heard him mutter something under his breath, but I was too busy trying to will myself forward to know what he said. His presence loomed behind me like a dark creature stealthily moving in the shadows. I did not want to admit the way my skin tingled at his nearness.

It was not out of fear.

2

HARPER

All the boys sat around in a large, open space with a vaulted ceiling leading into a peak at the center, allowing the walls to cascade down around us. The smell of freshly baked bread and apples filtered throughout the air. My heart leaped at the sight of Martha standing in the kitchen to the left, tucked behind a large wraparound counter.

“Martha!” I tried to stay the mature adult but succumbed to the child inside me and rushed past Jasper to get to her. “Oh my gosh, I have missed you so much.”

Her flowery scent and soft embrace wrapped around me as her wrinkled fingers patted my back.

“Hello, honey.” Her voice and mannerisms were more fragile than the last time I had seen her. “My, you have grown.” She pulled me back to cup my face, and her weary smoky-gray eyes glistened. “I have missed you too. I’m so glad you are here.”

My words failed me in response, and I gathered her in my arms once more. Her motherly embrace embodied everything I needed to have hope.

“I want to hear all that has happened. Email just isn’t the same. I must know every detail when you get settled.”

“I would love that.”

She squeezed my hand before returning her focus to dinner.

“Can I help you?”

“No, no. You go sit yourself right down and let us take care of you.”

She swatted the air as if I were a fly. I laughed, remembering how many times she had done that growing up.

Jasper guided me to a seat at the end of a full table of multiple eyes staring back at me. Sweat and dirt filled my lungs. These boys could run laps around me—I was sure of it. Intimidation was my long-lost friend.

“All right, everyone, settle down.” Jasper raised his voice as a hush crossed the table. “This is my sister, Harper. She will be staying with us for the summer, and I expect nothing but complete civility and hospitality. Am I clear?” Jasper stood at the head with over twenty of us total surrounding this long oak rectangle. “Yes, I am looking at you, Mike,” he chided as a dark-haired boy raised his hands up in surrender. “Harper, this is everyone.”

I nodded. “A pleasure to meet you all.” My fingers fidgeted under the table in nervous anticipation.

Jasper took great care in introducing me. I met the handyman, Bobby; the horse trainer, Darren; the counselor, Jason; and Jasper’s sidekick, Johnny, a boy who had outgrown the program but wanted to stay on, whom I heard about for a while throughout our phone conversations.

There were fourteen boys, including the workers I just met, and all with names I knew would take me a while to remember. Some looked very worn and tired. Some seemed angry while others seemed confused. So many emotions held in their stares. They had their stories to tell, and while meeting each one, I wanted to learn them all and uncover their truths.

The last person at the table was the man I’d met earlier whose presence I wished I could ignore.

“And this is Everett, as you already know. He is now our music therapist and teacher extraordinaire.”

I heard the words come out of Jasper’s mouth, but as soon as I met eyes with him, I was engulfed with crickets in my mind, wiping my clammy hands on my pants.

I had known this man for more than half my life, and now, I couldn’t think of a word to say. Say something. Anything.

“Good to see you again.”

I nodded in his direction, and he reciprocated and turned to Jasper. He, as formerly predicted, didn’t say anything to me. He did, however, ask Jasper a question about the following day’s plans.

Why is he avoiding talking to me? Is he overthinking this as much as I am?

Regardless of my uncertainty in how to take Everett’s actions, I kept sneaking glances in his direction across the table throughout the entirety of dinner. My poor attempt at focusing on all the conversations around me, knowing I wouldn’t get anywhere without trying to get to know everyone, was futile. There was something interesting, appealing even, in this new, grown-up version of Everett. His mannerisms were graceful and familiar. He didn’t speak much unless spoken to, which wasn’t uncommon for him.

Someone spoke my name, and his gaze shot toward me. A lightning bolt of shock went through my chest. I blinked and retracted my line of sight. I didn’t like what his attention did to me. None of this was familiar.

I heard the boy sitting next to Everett ask if he could pass the salt. Without a word, he handed it to him.

Is everyone used to his lack of communication?

“If anyone gives you a hard time, you know who to come to.”

Jasper’s authoritative response was new to me. I knew the Jasper who would have dance parties with me and toilet-papered our principal’s house when she hadn’t let me retake a class I flunked from missing too many days in bed. Not this capable and firm leader.

“I am sure that won’t happen.” I spoke confidently as I glanced around the table. I was met with blank stares. “I can’t believe how much you’ve done here, Jasp. This place is beautiful.”

“Thank you. We still have some unfinished rooms and space that needs work, but overall, it’s coming together nicely.”

The heaviness in my chest wouldn’t cease. I stood up and worked my way across the room. Being here with people I had never met—knowing I would have to learn a new routine, a new way of thinking, and not knowing if I would be accepted—caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Acceptance wasn’t a new fear for me, though it still sat heavily like a foot pressing against my lungs.

The main floor wasn’t massive in size, but it fit everyone comfortably. The kitchen and dining area took up half the space, and a sitting area nearby circled a fireplace. The couches and chairs were musky and well worn, looking cozy and inviting from years of life. Three different entrances and windows surrounded us.

A long wall, centered in the middle of the room, was covered in photos of boys and workers, each frame unique. It led to an entryway, turning into the staircase. It angled over three walls in an abstract way, slowly circling upward to the second floor, which was hidden from sight.

As Jasper told me, the staff stayed inside the main house on the second and third floors while all the boys stayed in the old barn Martha used to live in. They renovated it with several bedrooms. I recognized some things, but it was generally a new place altogether.

I stared at a painting sitting on top of the mantel. At the bottom was written 1669. It was an antique of a mother duck swimming in a pond with her ducklings, a tree branch growing crooked and its leaves draping softly into the water. A few ducklings wandered around her, looking under lily pads, while one stayed right by her side. Maybe the duck was scared to leave her, or maybe she didn’t want it to get lost. Or maybe they just had a bond unlike any other. Even for a fictional painting of animals, the feeling of comfort showed behind the strokes.

“She’s quiet.”

A whisper behind me jolted my focus.

“Dude, I think she’s hot.” Another came in a jesting tone.

I bit my lip holding back a smile.

I moved slightly to see out of the corner of my eye a few boys tailing behind me. I turned my attention back to the picture and nonchalantly readjusted a tilted frame.

“Hey! Hi. Uh…” a deeper boy’s voice called out to me. “We just wanna introduce ourselves, ma’am.”

I turned around and saw their excited faces. The boy speaking put his hand out to me as he cleared his throat dramatically.

“The name’s Michael. But everyone around here calls me Mike.”

This was the boy previously scolded by Jasper. He stood as if he owned the place.

“I’m one of the oldest and wisest here. I wanted to officially welcome you to the clan.”

I stifled a laugh. This boy looked no older than any other boy here. He had jet-black hair, was covered in tattoos, had two black dot earrings, his pants were a little too tight, and he barely hit my height of five foot eight. His deep brown eyes were covered in dark lashes while he smiled and winked at me. He had an air of confidence about him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Michael.”

I returned his firm hand before trying to let go, but he tried holding on a little longer.

“Bro, let go of her. You’re going to freak her out,” a different voice called out.

I adjusted my stance to face a boy a bit taller than me with sandy-blond hair, light-green eyes, and dimples so deep that I wanted to poke my fingers inside and squeeze them.

“Um, hi, I’m Clarence. The guy who almost always has to right Michael’s wrongs.”

He didn’t shake my hand, as his hands were tight inside his pockets. He looked a bit unsure and more reserved.

“Hello, Clarence.” I smiled.

“And this is our boy, Landon. He pretty much shadows us because, well, we are legit. Right, bro?” Michael put his arm out to push aside Clarence while the other arm wrapped around the boy’s shoulders.

Landon was younger, his height hitting my chest, with big brown eyes, the curliest and fluffiest brown hair, and a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.

“How do you do, Landon?”

“Is that a formal way of saying hi?” his innocent, high-pitched voice asked.

“It is.” I smiled. “I tend to talk in different time periods when I’m nervous.”

“Don’t worry; we’ve got your back.” Landon smiled.

“I appreciate that. And how old are you boys?”

“I’m almost thirteen.” Landon’s face beamed with pride.

“Sixteen,” Clarence interjected.

Michael spoke up confidently. “And I am the mature, ripe age of seventeen.”

“You are a smooth talker, aren’t you?”

“You know how it is. Chicks dig it.”

I chuckled, placing my hands on my hips. “You must do well with the ladies.”

“Oh, there is no doubt.”

“Except when was the last time you were around a girl?” Clarence chimed in, folding his arms in front of him. He had an air of maturity through his sarcasm. His voice was the deepest of the three.

“Yeah, haven’t you been here, like, two years?” Landon asked so innocently that no one could be mad at him.

The usual turnaround time for the boys’ program here was twelve to sixteen months, depending on the situation. There must have been an exception where Michael was concerned.

“I have my ways. Besides, time has no limits to this goodness.” He trailed his hands outward and down his chest. It took everything in me not to poke fun at him.

It was strange, talking to boys that I knew had had hard upbringings and stories to tell, but they stood here, being so polite and well mannered. I’d heard of the change-of-heart moments from Jasper, but to see young boys who had had rough pasts behave so well was quite remarkable.

“I have no doubt,” I attempted to say in all seriousness. “So, is there anything I should know ahead of time, Michael, Clarence, and Landon?”

“Don’t eat the vegetables. Martha will try to make it sound yummy, but every time, it’s not,” Landon chimed in.

“Never be at the watering hole after dark unless you want to see nudity,” Clarence said.

The smirks covered their faces.

“Oh, and don’t believe a word Michael says,” Clarence continued.

“What are you talking about? I give great insight.”

Clarence rolled his eyes at Michael.

“Like, for example, all the dudes here are great. Some take getting used to more than others, but we’ve become family. The favorite leader here is Jasper. He tries to act tough, but he’s a big teddy bear, and we all give him crap for it. And Martha? She’s the ranch grandma. Spoils us all rotten even though we don’t deserve it. Everett’s straight fire, and we love him as a teacher. He tries to act all grumpy and detached for some reason, but he would do anything for any of us, and honestly, he has moved us to tears in sessions before. And Bobby always reeks of BO, so if you want to save yourself, don’t go in for a hug.”

Clarence and Landon’s mouths were open in awe.

“See? I can be real.” Michael shoved Clarence, and Michael just smirked.

“That was sweet, Mike.” Clarence puppy-eyed him with his hand over his heart before socking him in the arm again.

“What’s fire?” My brows turned in confusion.

I was around six-year-olds most of the time. The new teenage lingo was foreign to me.

“It means legit or cool,” Clarence said.

“I appreciate all the tips.” Maybe fitting in wouldn’t be so hard, if I could figure out how they talked. “It will be fun getting to know you boys better. Thank you for coming up to me and making me feel less awkward.”

“Don’t you worry, Miss Harper. You might be the only girl here, but you seem cool, and we will love you all the same.”

Landon’s sweetness warmed me, and I placed a hand over my heart.

“Dude, you forgot about Martha,” Clarence corrected him.

“She isn’t a girl. She’s old. That doesn’t count!” Landon seemed justified in how he saw the world in his young life.

Clarence just rolled his eyes.

“We will do all we can to make your stay enjoyable.” Michael winked again. He put a bent arm out toward me. “May we escort you to your room?”

“Michael, what are you doing?” Jasper’s voice caused him to jump out of his skin and fumble over his words.

“I, uh… am meeting your sister and making her feel more comfortable.”

“More like flirting.” Clarence gleamed as if he had personal experience.

That was a word I knew.

“What’s flirting?” Landon asked.

“Michael, get your butt outside and take the night-shift checklist.” Jasper pointed to the front door.

“Ooh.” Landon and Clarence spoke in unison.

“Don’t be harsh on him, Jasper. He was just trying to be kind. They all were.” I smiled at each one of them.

“Oh, this isn’t harsh. This is a warning. No flirting with my sister. Not now. Not ever. Got it?” Jasper scolded.

“Yes, sir.” Michael saluted him and bit back his own laugh. “’Twas a pleasure, madam.” He bowed before sauntering off.

“He can’t take anything in life seriously,” Jasper murmured.

“Tell me about it.” Clarence huffed.

Jasper gave him a stern look, and he put out his hands in surrender.

“I’m out.” He turned and waved behind himself. “Bye, Harper.”

I waved back even though he couldn’t see me.

Landon turned slowly to leave as he spoke to himself out loud:“Apparently I need to google what flirting is.”

Comfort trickled through my veins, like being wrapped in a blanket straight out of the dryer. “They are really sweet boys, Jasp.” I held my elbows and relished it. No matter their backgrounds, most of these boys just needed attention. Someone to talk to. Someone to care about them. “I can see why you love it here so much.”

“Sometimes, they can be. And sometimes, it’s hell, trying to break through to them. But it’s all worth it most days.”

He put his arm around me, and I leaned into his brotherly security.

I looked around the room one last time and caught Everett’s stare. I recoiled and turned my head up and around, trying to avoid the heat in his gaze. I shifted my sight back to his, and he didn’t move. He must not feel as uncomfortable looking at me as I did him.

Jasper caught my attention as he led me up a long and extensive staircase to the second floor. I was tired. Just walking the stairs, even with him carrying my suitcase, my bones throbbed in exhaustion.

“You all right?”

“Of course,” I lied.

He opened a bedroom door toward the end of the hall, explaining that his was next to mine if I ever needed him. The room itself was beautiful and cozy. It was much roomier than I had expected—a large canopy bed in the center of the room, a fireplace off to the left, a writing desk to the right, everything decorated in warm gray and tan tones. It was inviting with a bay window that faced the front of the house with a cool breeze seeping in and mismatched pictures with vintage frames lining the walls. I inhaled a citrus aroma.

“The bathroom is across the hall, but three others share it. We have a sign-up sheet for when to use it to help maintain privacy and hot water. There is a bathtub that no one uses, and I bought salts for you, which are under the counter, so you could soak on hard nights. I placed a mini fridge in your closet, so you won’t have to go up and down the stairs at night if you need anything. It’s partially stocked. I didn’t know everything you would need. There’re snacks in the drawer.” He walked over to an armoire and opened it. “You have a TV, but there is no cable. I hooked up a cord for you to attach your phone if you want to stream anything. We are a little old school around here.”

I tried to interrupt and tell him to stop, but he kept going.

“It gets a bit chilly at night, so I brought up a heater next to your bed.” He encouraged me to sit down on the bed as he continued to talk. “Breakfast is usually at six since we start the day early, but I already told Martha to bring breakfast to you when you call. I’ll link the house number to your cell phone. She is more than happy to accommodate. I think she is thrilled to have another female in the house. Especially that female being her favorite girl. She said to call whenever you need anything.”

“Jasper, this is all fantastic, but—”

“Lastly, our days are packed, but I promise to find some things for you to do. There’s a schedule next to your bed of what I do with the boys each day. You are always welcome to join in on anything you feel up to. But your main goal is to rest and enjoy yourself. Oh, and don’t worry. I didn’t tell anyone about you. All the staff knows is that you are my sister, here for the summer for fun. Except Everett. I didn’t really mention it.” He stopped and placed his hands on his hips while staring at me, waiting in anticipation for my approval.

I wanted to tell him to stop doing so much for me, that it was overkill, and I would be fine on my own. I had been for years. I didn’t need to add to all the responsibilities he already held, but every detail was thoughtful and concise. He remembered everything. He had known I didn’t want to be treated differently.

The question arose of why Everett wasn’t aware of my arrival, but that would have to be for another day. I walked over to him and hugged him. “Thank you, Jasper. For everything. This is all too much. And beyond thoughtful.”

His arms engulfed me.

“I just want you to be comfortable.” He leaned toward the open doorway. “Text me if you need anything. And don’t forget to call Mom and Dad. They won’t stop blowing up my phone, wanting to hear from you.”

“I will,” I reassured him.

That put a faint smile on his face as he turned and exited through the door.

I dialed their number, only hearing one ring before both of my parents’ voices were on the other end. Shaking my head, I relayed the last couple of hours to them, feeling reassured in their kind voices that I had made the right decision.

3

EVERETT

Harper Mason. As I live and breathe.

I hadn’t been prepared for running into Harper. No one, not even Jasper, had known of my whereabouts for the eight years before I came to Marlow’s.

She looked the exact same somehow, but older, more mature. She had filled out in all the right places and every curve revealed softness, just like her heart. Wrapped in yellow as bright as the sun, she still held herself closely, placing her arms together to stay protected somehow. Her glowing blonde hair twisted effortlessly in a bun on the top of her head with wisps caressing her cheeks. Her ocean-blue eyes matched Jasper’s. Her big, black-rimmed glasses were new, but seemed as if they had always been a part of her, wise and knowing.

I inadvertently watched the way she walked as I stood behind her. The discomfort was evident in her balance. Did she still deal with constant pain all these years later? Without knowing her, the grace she moved with, the glow in her countenance, no one would acknowledge it. I had to stop myself from helping her into her chair and asking what she needed. It was a response like riding a bike, natural and easy.

The way she flew into Martha’s arms was a private interaction between deeply connected friends. I had known of their relationship, but I was unaware of the capacity of its strength until that moment. Eyes stained in tears, years of longing held in their embrace.

What would it be like to be loved that deeply by someone?

I went back to my plate, forcing the food down as Jasper introduced her to everyone at the table. I waited anxiously for it to be my turn. Our eyes locked, and I forgot what was appropriate to say in return. Inwardly smacking myself, I lingered to hear what else she would say.

“Are you staying long?” I heard Darren ask.

Harper was uncomfortable with all the attention. I could sense it—once again, like riding a bike.

“For the majority of the summer, if that is okay with everyone.” She looked at Jasper, who smiled reassuringly, and turned her gaze to me in question.

Why would it matter what I thought? I didn’t like the way her eyes held so much story within one look. I wanted to know beyond the gaze, to know how she was doing.

Why?

I’d spent countless hours trying to erase her from my memory, but it was of no use. Five minutes of being in her presence, the dam had broken. There she sat, full, alive, and breathtaking, flooding the room and my head.

“Did you know she was coming? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Johnny murmured under his breath.

I shook my head. Jasper had chosen not to tell me. Maybe he had thought I wouldn’t approve?

“She’s mighty gorgeous. It’s a wonder how any of the boys will focus on anythin’ now that she’s here.” His Southern accent was strong, and his dusty-blond hair was matted to his head from where he had taken off his hat.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I lied.

“Mmhmm. Except you can’t keep your eyes off her.” Johnny nudged my side, and I squirmed in my chair.

Memories flooded through me. Jasper used to speak those exact words to me on countless occasions. Times when we would watch movies, or play games on the floor, or lie out on the trampoline under the stars. I had hoped to be inconspicuous, but Jasper had thought I was obsessed with needing to be around her, and I wasn’t. Fascinated, maybe. Protective, yes. But not obsessed.

“How about you focus on your food and get back to your business, John?” I knew how my retort sounded. I hadn’t meant to come off as a jerk, but if I was going to survive this summer with the ghosts of my past, I would have to push anything and everything away to avoid feeling it all over again.

“If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would punch you in the face for that.” Johnny half-smiled as he took a large bite of his dinner.

I probably deserved that. What an annoyance this evening had turned out to be.

I watched her walk across the room and stare at the painting over the mantel. I jumped up and moved toward Jasper.

“What the hell?” I mumbled, the words spewing out like the frustration I had been attempting to push aside. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming to visit? You told everyone else, apparently.”

“Calm down, Ev. You asked me not to tell anyone you were here. I tried to keep my mouth shut and not tell her either. It’s called respecting your wishes.” His manner astute, he held his hands on his hips.

“She didn’t know I worked here?”

He shook his head at me. That would explain her reaction outside. She looked at me as if she had seen a ghost. We both had. She was a beautiful ghost, formed from my sweetest dreams. Her taste and touch were endless torment.

“I honestly didn’t think you could keep something from her. You two are inseparable.” My voice hardened as my lips thinned.

“Yeah, well, you’re my best friend. That means something too.”

He didn’t often get emotional. We shared a knowing look, and I coughed as I took a step away.

“No need to get all soft on me,” he said, right on cue.

“So, how do I go about this?” I asked, as this was unknown territory.

“How you normally act. It’s just Harper. She’s been like your sister your entire life.”

I knew that was how Jasper saw it. That was probably how I chose to see it, too, though it didn’t feel that way now with how I was reacting to her nearness. My throat swelled up.

“It’s been a long time.”

“Not enough that you both have changed too much.”

He seemed so certain of that. Life was completely different for me since leaving Arizona ten years ago. In some ways better, and in others, not so much. My walls were a bit higher now.

“It’s going to be fine. Stop thinking so much. You just need to be open to her. Tell her why you left the way you did. You know all of us at the ranch have been on your side.” He patted my back, shared a knowing glance and left to help her up the stairs.

It was true. The Mason family was my second home. They knew me better than my own family did, and I was okay with that.

I shifted my weight to the other leg and stole another look in her direction. There no longer stood across from me a frail little girl, but a woman and all that encompassed.

When she had walked out of that car, my heart had stopped. She had been sixteen when I left. Young, but not youthful. Alive, and still, life had beaten so much out of her. Harper was a classic version of an old soul. A person to be admired and adored for her wisdom and understanding beyond her minimal years.

Pain had a way of doing that to a person. Stripping them of naïveté and thrusting experience in place. I worked on staying hidden, but Harper, she always saw me. Maybe not in the way I thought she could or the way I hoped she would, but she saw. Beyond the quiet demeanor, beyond the lack of words.

“I know that look.” Martha broke through my thoughts.

I shuddered to think of all she wanted to say.

“You knew too, didn’t you?” I braced my arms on the counter, my head facing the tile below me.

“Of course. I know everything that happens around here.” She smirked. “Come here, boy.”

I obeyed and moved in front of her. My legs shook, and my heart missed a beat. Her fragile hands grasped my biceps as she forced me to meet her gaze.

“She isn’t quite as strong as she was as a child. Life has taken its toll, and she’s tired. She came here to rest and try to find a spark for living again, among the pain. Be patient.”

I refused to let the emotions bubble to the surface and acknowledge how that bothered me or how I stopped myself from asking questions. I shifted again in my stance, flexing my toes one by one. “There’s nothing to be patient with her about. I don’t even know her anymore. I’m here to work, and that’s it.” A small piece of me knew that was a lie.

“I meant, be patient with yourself, Everett.” She smiled and whacked me with a hand towel.

I groaned inwardly and withdrew like a child all over again. I nodded to appease her.

“’Play nice, or you’ll have me to deal with,” she threatened and walked back to the kitchen.

I recoiled as knots formed in my stomach. I didn’t like being uncomfortable. Leaving the room, I pushed away comments of our new visitor, and stepped outside into some fresh air.

The question remained: was she still that same person? The one who knew exactly what to say or do in times when words weren’t necessary? Time altered people and not always in a positive way.

Right now, my heart couldn’t tell the difference.

4

HARPER

THEN

I sat on the couch leaning against the wall. My legs stuck to the leather underneath me. The rain was pouring, and I counted the droplets as they chased one another across the window. The trees were all wet, the sky foggy, and it made me feel tired as if I’d not slept the night before. I knew my doctor’s appointment at the end of the week would decide the rest of my life.

The pain had been constant with no answers. Like a poke over and over again all along my bones, starting in my neck, working all the way down to my feet. No one truly understood what I dealt with. My movements weren’t smooth or agile. I couldn’t do what was an easy task for someone else. Sometimes, just getting out of bed, the actual movement of swinging my legs over the side and putting weight down to walk, was difficult. It just was what it was.

I lived in constant pain.

“Harper,” Jasper called, dissolving my thoughts. “You gotta get off the couch. Let’s go do something.”

I turned my attention toward where he stood in the kitchen, His knee-high socks and gym shorts the only thing covering him. Everett followed behind him, as always, baseball hat backwards on his head. We’d known Everett since the boys were five, and still, at ten, they were inseparable. It was like having another brother.

“I don’t feel good, Jasp.” It came out more of a whine than real words as I rubbed at my throbbing hands before placing one back on the cold, inviting window.

My mom always told me that God tried those that he loved most. Well, I didn’t want to be that lovable today. I just wanted to feel better.

What would it be like to wake up with no pain? To eat a pizza, roller-skate, and be around kids?

“You can’t just sit here, moping all day. Let’s get you off your butt and play a game or something.”

He hadn’t learned how to talk nicely yet, at the age of ten. His tough love wasn’t encouraging. He was still trying to be the cool older brother, and no one thought it was cool. He threw a pillow playfully at me.

“I don’t want to.” I wanted to be normal, and sometimes, I just hated feeling this way.

“Come on, Harp.” This time, Everett stepped in. “I’ll even let you pick the color.” He sat down in front of me on the ground, pulling out Candy Land and setting up the board. The colors of the cardboard swirling around on the floor. Taunting and inviting. “I know your favorite.”

He handed me the red plastic figurine. I bit my cheek, trying not to smile and let him win.

“Okay.” I pivoted in my sitting and gently pressed my hands to the ground, wincing as I moved awkwardly to the floor.

“Let me help.” Everett placed his hands under my armpits to ease the weight of my body as I sat cross-legged.

“Thanks,” I whispered. Pulling each leg up and under me was a chore.

“Show-off,” Jasper mumbled toward Everett, but I heard it.

“Do you want green, blue, or yellow?” Everett asked Jasper, ignoring his comment.

“I’ll take the blue.”

“Great. Finish setting the cards up, and I’ll go grab some snacks,” Everett ordered, even though he normally sat quietly while Jasper took charge. He walked over to our kitchen like he owned the place and opened the pantry door to find some chips and cookies. “If you could have any snack in the world, what would it be?” he asked as he sat back down between Jasper and me.

“Doritos. Or sour cream and onion Pringles,” Jasper said while he stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth. “So delicious,” he managed to get out.

“Chocolate chips and peanut butter.” My lips turned up. “Salty and sweet.”

“Why not just eat a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup?” Everett asked me, eyeing me.

“It’s not the same.” I shrugged my shoulders. “And I can have the amount I want of peanut butter and chocolate within each bite. If I want more than one or the other, I can.”

“Cool,” Everett answered, hands full, and walked back to our spot. Sitting down he placed each snack in a row.

He grabbed a card, and we started playing the game. Moving the colored pieces around the board helped with the aching.

“I don’t think I have a favorite. I will eat anything that hasn’t expired.”

We all laughed, but we knew that, sometimes, Everett didn’t always get a meal to eat, so maybe that was why he wasn’t picky about food.

“Are you scared?” Jasper asked me as he moved his figure three places.

“Of what?” I answered, trying to dodge what I knew was coming.

“Your appointment.” He moved two spaces. “It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m scared.” I pushed back the tears forming. I’d cried enough over the last few weeks. It would do no good. “Knowing is better than not knowing, right?”

“Exactly. Don’t worry; we will be here for you when you get back.” Jasper put his hand on my shoulder. “You got this.”

“You won’t be alone,” Everett chimed in.

He didn’t look at me, but I appreciated his kindness. I liked having them around. They both liked to be there for me. I knew I was lucky. I wasn’t physically alone, though I always felt alone.

“Thanks, guys.”

I continued to play the game, and for the next hour, I almost forgot what pain I was in. The boys made me laugh, helping me forget the sadness that I often lived in.

Everett even kept his word, and he let me win.

NOW

The view from my window took my breath away. Even though I had known what this acreage looked like from many angles, I hadn’t seen it from this one. Being up high changed the outlook of the vast rows of tall green pines for miles leading to the mountain base. The sun was almost nonexistent as horses and chickens grazed the fields, and lights from the barn and garage flickered. Placed right in the center was a mass of water in shades of blue and green, as if the trunks knew, pausing in their decision of where to grow, and rearranged to fit themselves perfectly around it.

I sat down on the window seat, holding a soft padding just enough for me to fit. I pulled out my leather-bound journal, engraved with the letters HM in a scrolled font. Writing helped me to make sense of the world. It helped me not feel quite as lonely.

Opening the latch, I embraced hearing the air move through the trees tonight, as it was a calm sound. The trickling of the water rolled down rocks along its path, soothing the beating of my heart. I picked up my pen.

Today was a strange day. I came to see Jasper and found an altogether new surprise…

I altered my head as the sound of plucked strings rang softly in the distance. I looked out and saw a light coming out of the garage. That must be where the music therapy happened.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the clean air, allowing the chords to be hugged throughout my nervous system. The sound increased, and Everett appeared from the doorway, carrying his guitar around him, sauntering toward the house while he struck more chords. Maybe he was trying to create a new song?

His hair was flowing around his face now in long, dark curls, his eyes barely open as he walked. He was lost in the music. I couldn’t look away. He made his way to the front porch that sat directly under my window. The strings ebbed and flowed between fast motions and soft, slow picks. Whatever it was, the sound sucked me in like a vortex.

I leaned my back against the edge and listened. What would it be like to just sit near him, observe him as he created, and feel the vibrations from the guitar under me? Everett used to play when we were younger, but nothing like this. To me, this was an entirely new side to him. The raw and honest motion moved in and out through each crescendo. I could listen to him play all night.

My phone beeped.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Did you make it safely?” Charly asked in her worried voice.

“Yes, sorry. I got all settled in, and after talking to my parents, I just zoned out for a bit.”

“Understandable.” There was rustling in the background. “Tell me all about it. I’m dying over here.”

“Are you eating my popcorn?”

“No! Why would you think such a thing?” Silence filled the air. “Okay, fine, but only one bag, and it’s replaceable. Stop changing the subject.”

I laughed. “It’s beautiful. Just as I remembered. But so vastly different too.” I inhaled.

“How so?” she asked as I exhaled.

“They have several more buildings, a house full of workers, a huge ranch house, a beautiful and homey room for me to stay in. It’s just not like the days of sleeping in the hayloft of the old barn. But the majestic feel, the trees, the mountains, the air—it seems so familiar.”

“I love it. That sounds amazing.”

“You’ll have to come see it soon,” I said. “Possibly this summer?”

“Maybe.” Her voice pitched upward, and I knew what that meant. She had a secret.

“Charly, you’d better spill right now.”

“Not until you finish.”

I grunted. “Jasper has been great. Martha looks the same, but she’s aged and slower in her movements. I can’t wait to have more time with her. It has been pretty hectic since the moment I showed up, and my mind can’t seem to play catch-up.”

She spoke with her mouth full. “Luckily, you have eight weeks to do just that.”

“Charly, it’s really odd.” I exhaled again, my breath kept catching as my calves stiffened.

“What is?”

“Seeing Everett again. He’s here. Working at the ranch now.” I scratched at an itch pestering me on my forehead.

“Wait, what? Everett, like hot, brooding Everett Jones? Jasper’s best friend from high school Everett?”

“Do we know any others?”

“No. No, we do not! I can’t believe he’s there after he all but disappeared into thin air.” She cleared her throat. “How does he look… as a man?”

I couldn’t respond, I had no words. Nothing that would do justice to my nervous system and the waves that crashed against each other in my veins.

“That good, huh?” she asked.

“It would seem so.”

“Well, Mr. Everett, you have now made this summer vacation ten times more interesting.”

That was something I could agree with.

“Does he seem the same at all?”

“Still very quiet. Looks manlier. I didn’t recognize him because he’s covered in hair. He comes off gloomy and annoyed. So, yes, besides his growth, he’s very much the same.”

“He was always nice to us though.”

“Yes, he was.” I paused.

Everett Jones had been one of the nicest, most down-to-earth people I had the privilege of knowing. Was he still the same guy?

“I’m sure Jasper is really happy to be reunited with his best friend.” She chomped in the background.

“I would imagine he is, but what I can’t understand is why he didn’t tell me that Everett was back. He’s been working here for a while.”

“That does seem odd. Just talk to him. I’m sure he would tell you. In the meantime, I will need daily updates.”

“Fair enough.” I rubbed my temple. “Now, tell me about this secret.”

“Well, I’m going on a second date.”

We squealed in excitement and talked a bit more about her workday. I reminded her to water the plants, and I promised her again that I’d try my best to enjoy myself.

My legs twitched, the dull ache trickling upward.

“Crap,” I muttered.

“Oh no, what is it?” she questioned me on the other end.

“I’m starting to hurt. I think today was just too long in one position.”

I avoided taking anything unless I had to, but with little sleep last night and sitting for nine hours in the car today, I knew I wouldn’t rest. I turned over to my medicine container, grabbed one, and attempted to breathe deeply. I counted the seconds of each inhale, imagining a peaceful rush of serenity covering me, starting from my head and going all the way to my toes.

“You have medicine with you?” she asked.

“Yes, I just took some.”

“Remember to do your breathing. The therapist said it was the best thing to manage the pain until the medicine kicked in.”

I loved how much she cared even if she came off motherly sometimes.

I closed my eyes.

In… and out. In… and out.

My mind hyper-focused on the throbbing like a dark energy screaming throughout my knees. It was fruitless. I couldn’t relax yet. The pain was distracting. I reached my hand to cover my kneecap as the swelling began. I rubbed in circular motions, attempting to ease the ache.

Just breathe, Harper. Let the medicine kick in, and you’ll be just fine.

Just looking at me, no one would know the pain that penetrated inside me unless they observed. All of my muscles were tight and locked. The bending of each joint, the lack of fluidity of each movement hurt. It was like having a fever. The aching and the throbbing throughout the body took over, and resting was the only remedy.

I remembered when the realization had hit me as a child, knowing I was different. Time was minuscule since that breakdown in the tree house with Jasper. The new day-to-day routine shifted. I was eight, and it was winter break of third grade. The pain became excruciating. I spent endless hours after Christmas and into the new year in bed, wondering how I would make it back to school. Staying positive was futile, even as a kid. I’d never experienced anything so mentally difficult so far in my life. Sadness became an old friend.

“Do you remember me telling you about the time I had the worst flare-up ever?” I asked her.

“Of course. I didn’t know you then, but I know if I did, I would have wanted to be your best friend. I was amazed at how Jasper always tried to cheer you up, growing up.”

“He even tried to share his new Christmas toys.” I sighed. “It didn’t make a difference though. I just wanted to feel normal and go back to school to see my friends.” I’d loved learning and being in a classroom had given me a sense of normalcy.

“I can’t believe you showed up to school in a wheelchair. That is so brave, especially for a child,” she said.

My mom had called and planned for some random, willing kid to push me around campus and made sure the teacher rearranged desks and plants out of the way for me. At first, everyone stared. Then, the hushed questioning began.

Does she have cancer? Did she break her legs? Everything seems fine. Is she faking it?

No, I just had a thing called ankylosing spondylitis. It was a type of rare arthritis. Very rare. Especially in children. It usually only manifested in older males. And here I was, just an eight-year-old girl, already fighting with it for over a year. No one saw anything wrong with me. No one wanted to see what I felt every moment, sitting in that chair. They judged me without thinking about my feelings. I spent my recesses alone or being made fun of by some of the boys while all my “friends” were playing far away in the outfield, and I was stuck in the chair.

“I’m just grateful for Mr. Pickles. He kept me sane.”

He had been the crosswalk guard, who helped me out at lunchtime and also had an obsession with eating pickles. I tried to stash as many as I could on my plate. He was in his late sixties and had the kindest blue-green eyes and white hair, and he always smelled of cigarette smoke. He took the time to help push me from the cafeteria to the sidewalk around the swings, and he would stand next to me so I wasn’t alone. He had become a staple during those few rough months.

“You still are obsessed with pickles. It’s a wonder.” She sighed dramatically.

“I still can’t believe he is gone. I dream about him sometimes.”

He had been a friend when I needed it most.

“I feel like you’ve talked about him so much that even I’ve had dreams about him.” She laughed, and I managed to smile.

“Thank goodness I got you in college, because I barely survived high school alone.”

“Please, you can do anything,” Charly said, but I knew the truth. “You know, with everything you’ve gone through, I still don’t know how you smile. I would be angry and hate the world all the time.”

“You would not,” I argued.

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t be as happy as you are.”

Minutes ticked by like hours, and full relief hadn’t come. The room increased in warmth. The air was stifling. Like a fever overtaking the senses, everything felt cold and hot at the same time. The aching all over was overwhelming, causing me to shake. I didn’t want to cry on my first night here.

“I’m not always happy, Charly. It’s draining sometimes.”

“I know.” Her voice was quiet. “Let’s focus on something else until it kicks in. What is everyone doing right now?”

I continued my breathing and told her about what I knew, which was very little.

“You would have loved the boys I met today.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“The three who came up to me, let’s just say they already wormed their way into my good graces.”

She laughed, and I relayed the entire story to her.

I was grateful that I could move. It might hurt, and I might not like it, but I could still move. I wasn’t in a wheelchair. I drove all the way here. I was a walking miracle.

“I’ve got to go. My date will be here soon, but call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Thanks, Charly. You’re the best.”

I ended the phone call and continued massaging my knees.

Readjusting my position near the window, I cracked the opening wider, and took in long breaths of cool air, attempting to infuse calm. The throbbing now moved into my feet. I sat for a moment, silently praying to find a way to go to sleep. Everything would be better if I could sleep it off.

The moon was bright tonight as it slowly rose, wanting all to see how it could light the way, even through the dark.

I often wondered about that. Light. Darkness. From where it was created to how it manifested in life around us. Light was always good. Positive. Warm and comforting. Creating pathways to follow and easily within sight. Darkness was never spoken of in a positive manner. It was always a bad thing. Negative. Scary. Confusing. Blocking views. But somehow, when you put them together, one couldn’t be without the other. They needed each other. Seeing light couldn’t be without the darkness first. It was a balance.

That was how I saw life. True joy couldn’t be appreciated without excruciating pain. Or complete, overwhelming love without heartbreak. The negative was necessary to have the positive shine brightly. That was what I had to believe. I had to believe that—knowing this pain all my life would lead to insurmountable joy.

The tune Everett was playing trickled its way up to the second floor. Music. The power of beautiful music. Music was one of the ways I coped with my pain. I immersed myself in different genres for hours, feeling every beat, every lyric to the limit. It was the best distraction.

The tune grew louder, and a calm washed over me. The melody chimed notes to one of my favorite songs, “The Scientist,” and tears pricked my eyes. I silently thanked heaven, as I knew this was just what I needed.

I worked my way back to bed, lying across gently. The numbing agent worked its way up from my feet to my calves, like my joints were an escalator and the medicine a person along for the ride.

Finally.

I folded my eyes shut and soaked in each single note. I mouthed the words to the song that I loved so dearly as I drifted off into a serene state.

I remembered thinking before everything went black: Everett, thank God you’re back.

5

HARPER

“Everything feels the same, but looks so different from the last time I was here.” I sat at the counter, my feet dangling, while Martha dried a few dishes, anxious to catch up on the last six years we hadn’t seen each other.

We had kept in touch, but it wasn’t the same as being face-to-face. Facial expressions, laughter, tears, all of them equivalent to an experience unmatched.

I had a connection to Martha, as if she were a grandmother to me. We wrote emails throughout the year, and anytime I needed advice I didn’t feel comfortable asking my mom, I would turn to her. She was always there, an ever-guiding light to me.

“I agree, honey. It’s been a wild few years, trying to get everything built and up and running. I can’t say it’s been easy, but I sure do love how it’s turning out.” She paused to put a plate in the cupboard. “I think Milton would have loved it.” Milton was Martha’s husband who passed away a while ago.

One of my favorite pastimes was our family’s summer trip to Colorado. Outside of Denver lay this quaint small town, Mountain Creek. Population: eighty-seven hundred. There was one grocery store, one hardware store, two restaurants—one being a bar—one coffee shop, and miles of beautiful countryside. Martha Marlow, a lady my parents had gone to church with, owned land right outside of this small town, and she lived half her year here. Winters in Arizona, where we had met her, and summers in Colorado. Her husband’s family had inherited sixty miles of green pasture, and Martha and Milton resided in an old barn that they had turned into a home on this land. They had one boy of their own, but he had run away from home at sixteen, and we never met him.

They had taken our family under their wing and adopted us as if we were blood.

“I think he would have too,” I encouraged. I grabbed an apple out of the basket next to me, and bit into the juicy fruit.

Every summer, we would spend several weeks visiting Colorado. Jasper and Dad would help Milton outside with their two horses, keeping the fences mended, while Mom and I spent time in the kitchen with Martha, learning how to can everything from pears to chicken breast. It was, in a sense, therapeutic for me. That trip had helped me mentally for months after I returned home. I’d counted down the days till we went back.

“I can’t believe it’s already been eight years since Jasper graduated high school and moved up here. It doesn’t seem like that much time has passed,” I said as I savored each sweet bite.

The unspoken words were focused solely on his best friend moving away unexpectedly. Jasper had had a hard time adjusting. Due to being the empath he was, he spent too many years by my side, keeping me company, and not enough time to find what he wanted in life. He decided to leave home in Phoenix, Arizona, and go to college at the University of Denver to get his degree in business management, away from us to mark his own way through his own path. Somehow, I had known he would end up back here. He loved it up here as much as I did.

“Nor can I believe it’s already been seven years since my Milton left us.”

“Heart attack, right?” I stacked some papers to my left and took another bite.

“Mmhmm. I’m grateful it was quick.”

This news swayed Jasper back to check in on Martha during his off days from school. One thing led to another, and Martha hired him full-time so they could open together what was now called Marlow’s Boys Ranch. Between her pleadings to bring her son back home to her and keep her husband’s legacy alive, she had yearned to make it something special.

“Jasper always desired to make a difference, and this was a perfect path for him. You made that happen,” I said as I started cutting paper for this weekend’s service project.

With Jasper’s extra classes in therapy and mental health, four years later, the boys ranch was born.

“That boy has always had a heart of gold.” Martha was simply taken with my brother. As most people who met him were.

“Milton is proud—I just know it. As am I.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You know, ever since my honey passed away, I truly didn’t think I would find joy again in this life. But finding this ranch and these boys, well, it was exactly what my heart needed.” She grabbed more things from the fridge, washed them, and handed them to me. “The man who sold us this land was my daddy’s best friend, you know. What a kind soul he was. I can’t believe how much has come from the last few years of hard work. You remember how it looked the last time you were here? How many years ago was that?”

“I think about six years now.” As I thought about it, my shoulder’s fell. “Too long if you ask me.”

“Well, I agree, sweet pea, but all that matters is that you are here now. Such good they have done here. I couldn’t have done any of it without your brother.” She wiped her hands. “I wish my boy would be closer to me. To come see what we have done.”

“How many years has it been?”

“Just shy of thirty.” She managed to get the words out.

Why anyone chose not to be close to this woman was a surprise to me.

“He will be fifty-nine next week. And yet he lives who knows where, and I only get a courtesy call once a year, if I’m lucky.” She paused in her movements. Closing her eyes, she sighed and stared off into the distance. “Maybe he needed a place like this when he was younger. We never knew he was a wanderer with a love of all things unhealthy. It didn’t manifest till his late teens, and by then, it was too late. He was already lost to us.”

“I’m so sorry, Martha. You’ve never talked about him much. I didn’t know.”

“Oh, don’t waste your worries on me, deary. It’s been a long time now, and I’ve almost gotten used to it.”

“That’s still a hard thing to cope with as a parent. You did nothing to wrong him.” I moved over and put my arm around her. “Sometimes, people just grow up into who they want to be regardless of how they were raised or how good their parents were.”

I had no doubt in my mind that this woman was the best of mothers. Her love shone through her entire being for people she hardly even knew.

“You are too kind, honey.” She squeezed my arm before moving on. “Forgive me for gettin’ all serious and sad. That is not at all what you need.”

“I don’t mind, Martha. I love hearing about your life. You always were so good at steering the conversation away from you that I heard more of Mom’s stories twice over than I did of yours.”

“I’ll tell you what. This place has healed me, Harper. These boys, they are like my own. At first, I was skeptical. The first few weeks of a new boy being here are hard. So much fighting and back-talking. And they’re hard as rocks to get through. We’ve even had some run away or break things. But once they know who’s the boss and what is expected and they feel the love of everyone here, you see the change in them so quickly. It feels miraculous every single time.” She placed her hand on her heart. “They become like family, and each time one has to leave, it breaks my heart.”

“I believe it.” Listening to her go on about the beauty of this place made me more excited to get to know everyone. “Though I miss Jasper being around, I know he’s where he is supposed to be. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get here. I… I’ve had a hard time, wanting to take the trip myself, but I knew it was time.” I recoiled at the words coming out of my mouth. They sounded juvenile compared to the age I was. “I wish my parents would stop being so stubborn and come see it for themselves too.”

“They will come in time, hon. They’re just upset Jasper didn’t want to stay in Arizona, but they will soften, given time.” She patted my leg before moving some supplies into a box on the kitchen table. “I’m grateful you finally came though. I knew you’d come when you were ready.”

I sheepishly looked down. “You don’t think I’m ridiculous?”

“Not one bit.” She walked back to look at me. “Sometimes, we have to face our battles in our own time, not when someone else deems it the right time. And you did that, on your own, by yourself. You made the choice, and you did it. Just like when you moved out. I was so proud of you for making that shift. I knew once you did, everything else would slowly follow.”

“How do you always know the right things to say?” I grinned.

“I’ve had over seventy years of experience. I hope something smart comes out of my mouth once in a while.” She winked at me.

“Everything you say is profound. Like a Hallmark greeting card.”

She swatted at the air toward me. “Oh, posh.”

I laughed at her choice of words.

“So, what else is on your mind, honey?”

“How can you tell?” I asked, knowing full well the answer, as my face showed every emotion.

She gave me a look. She’d known me too long for me to keep anything from her.

“Everyone is gone, right?”

“Yes, they’ve all gone to the north pasture to mend some fences for the day.” She stacked a box on top of another. “Just you and me today.”

“You know all about Everett, right?”

“Of course. He grew up with you two your entire lives, and now, he’s back. Isn’t that something?”

“Yeah. Something, all right.” I shifted to face her. “He just disappeared, Martha. Not so much as a goodbye or a postcard or a number to call. Nothing. How could Jasper just forget all of that and hire him on?”

“Some wounds aren’t as deep as others. Every person is different. I think Jasper understood more of Everett’s thinking and respected his wishes for space and the need to be invisible for a while. When Jasper finally felt the time was right, he found a way to reach him and asked him to come back, knowing if he didn’t, Everett might never return and stay hidden for the rest of his life.”

Martha always had a way of putting things into perspective. It made logical sense, and as someone who had lived a harder life, I understood the need for that space. Especially with his upbringing. As a sixteen-year-old girl who had gotten her heart broken by one of her best friends leaving without a goodbye, the sting hadn’t softened.

“Not to mention, no one told me he was working here.” I kept pouring salt onto the wound.

Was I so unworthy to not have received a goodbye? I needed to get it all off my chest so I could move forward with being around him for the next two months.

“You’re kidding. You two are as thick as thieves, and Jasper didn’t mention it to you?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“I would have told you myself had I known you didn’t already know.”

I let out a long exhale that I had been holding on to for too long. “I appreciate that, Martha.”

“I know Everett wants to keep his life private. He asked that if someone ever called for him to never tell them anything. I respect that even though I think he’s just hiding out here.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the table. “Hon, I think he’s just not put the past behind him, so he keeps running from it instead. Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

I often wanted to run from my past, but I didn’t think my body would ever let me forget it. It wasn’t something I could hide away from. It just sat there, gnawing at me like termites to wood. If only it were easy for me to just disappear.

“I often wondered how he was. How his mom was. What happened to his dad. All of it.” I rubbed at the headache now forming. “I need to just admit out loud that it hurts. I thought we were closer than that.”

“You have every right to be hurt. What he did wasn’t right by any means. But sweetheart, he was only eighteen. He was so young and didn’t know what else to do. He dealt with his blows differently than you. That doesn’t make him heartless. That just makes him human.” She placed her hand on my face. “Give it some time. Let him come to you. Maybe this summer trip will do more healing than we could hope for, hmm?”

I pressed my chin inward, my chest already feeling lighter after I talked to someone about it. I nodded my head, closing my eyes to breathe. “Okay. I’ll give it time.”

“Good. Now, come, and let’s finish setting up this project, shall we? Come tell me about your friend Charly.” She righted herself and marched back toward the table.

This woman truly was from heaven. I stifled a laugh at her play salute, and we chatted the hours away.

It was so good to be back.

Harper

THEN

“I don’t like it.” I wiped the sweat off my brow. “What do you think?” I asked Jasper as I spun the string around in circles, covering the wood slats we had found in the back of the barn.

It was another summer trip to Colorado, and while Mom was with Martha in town and Dad was helping Milton fix the back road fence, Jasper and I were creating masterpieces out of scraps to cure our indifference.

“I think it could use more color.” He grabbed a darker grain to contrast with the lighter and threw it next to the clump we had made. “Hmm. Why don’t we try painting it?”

He scrunched his face, and I tried not to laugh.

“You look like you need to pee.” I covered my mouth with a hand, getting a whiff of pine.

He threw the ball of string he had been holding at me.

“I agree. It needs color, but where are we going to get paint? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Maybe Martha has some. We can ask her. Let’s go see if she is back yet.” I shrugged, and we decided together to walk back to the house and ask. Something would have to be found, or we were sure to die of boredom.

“I’m sad Everett isn’t allowed to come with us on our trips,” I mentioned as I dragged each tennis shoe in the dirt as we walked. “Do you miss him?”

“Pfft, boys don’t get emotional over that stuff, Harper.” Jasper rolled his eyes and threw a pebble at an oncoming tree.

“I know, deep down, you do. I hear you talking to yourself at night. If he were here, you wouldn’t have to do that.” I sighed. Maybe he didn’t want me to notice, but I think he missed him more than he’d admit.

The truth was, I missed him too. He was around so much that it wasn’t quite the same with him gone.

“I don’t know why his parents won’t let him come. It’s not like they watch him much anyway.” He kicked up some dirt with me as we made a pathway.

I knew he was more upset about it than he let on. No one understood the workings of the Jones’ household. I thought something bad happened over there sometimes, but I wasn’t about to ask anyone about it. It wasn’t my place. It was like believing in the Devil. No one wanted to mention it, but it loomed everywhere there was evil whispering in the dark. Maybe Jasper knew something more but just wouldn’t tell me.

“Maybe they are afraid he will like us more than them.” My lips curved up, and I received a fleeting grin from him.

“Maybe,” he mumbled.

We looked up at the gust of wind, watching the gloomy clouds roll in like a wave from the ocean.

“Do you wish you had a brother, Jasp?” I asked. “Everett is probably funner than me.”

“More fun,” he corrected me, and it was my turn to roll my eyes. “I don’t need to wish to have a brother because I have a friend I can do boy stuff with. I like having you as my sister, and I wouldn’t trade it.”

“Do you mean it?” I stumbled in my step, feeling the stiffness begin.

“Yeah, I do.” He, without a second thought, put an arm around me as we walked the rest of the steps to the front door.

He didn’t even need to be asked. He always knew what to do to help. And he never made a fuss, which helped my embarrassment when the pain hit.

“You’re a good sister.”

“You’re the best brother, so I’m the lucky one.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, and we were trying to stay upright. I never did, but I wanted to curse and scream sometimes. He made even the hard days bearable. “I think most kids don’t like their siblings. I wonder why.”

“I think, sometimes, it’s hard to like someone different from you.”

“That sounds like something Martha would say to us.”

I thought about all the teaching moments she would give us when we were in town. It could be repetitive and annoying at times, but usually, we soaked it up.

He took a long breath before we made it to the door. His twelve years of age was a constant reminder that we were growing up too fast. “Even though we can get bored sometimes, I really love it here. It’s so quiet.”

The love was evident in his look. Jasper was taken with this place. He spent time learning the ropes of the land every time we were here.

“Me too. Even though I don’t always like the quiet.”

I spent too much time alone in my own thoughts, and they screamed so loudly that I’d end up curled into a ball. I didn’t know what else to do.

“Oh, look, they are back,” Jasper said through the open doorway, staring at Mom and Martha unloading the groceries.

Taking bags to and from the counter, I overheard their conversation.

“I just don’t understand why he won’t talk to me,” Martha said to Mom. “I don’t understand why he left at all, but the least he could do is call and reassure his poor mother, who is worried sick.”

“I don’t get it either, Martha. You did everything right by that boy, and he just doesn’t seem to care. There’s a hardness about him,” Mom responded. She unloaded the brown bag in front of her.

I looked at Jasper, and he shrugged his shoulders and walked back to the trunk.

“I guess some come into this world, predisposed to being the way they are. Nothing we can teach them to change if they don’t want to,” Martha mumbled as Mom shook her head and patted Martha’s hand. “I’m sure grateful to you and your family for wanting to spend time with us. It means the world to Milton and me.” Martha wiped a tear away as they hugged.

Were they talking about her son? What predisposed meant, I didn’t know, but seeing Martha sad made me sad. Was that what loving someone felt like? Feeling what they felt?

I rubbed my chest as I walked back to the car. We moved to help them put everything away and even found the paint to finish our project.

We spent the next hour creating random art pieces and laughing as we wiped paint all over each other.

“You’re right, I think this is way more fun.” I scrunched my nose at him as he wiped red paint all over my face.

Even with having to sit down several times and take a breather from my aching arms, I was happy to be doing something with my brother and not being sad, the way Martha was.

6

HARPER

Jasper was in the middle of a lesson with Landon and his horse. Several of the other boys lined up around the fence to watch. The sun beat down as they wiped drips of sweat off their faces. The stubborn set of Landon’s jaw was sharp and cutthroat. Tension filled the paddock, and the air was stifling.

“Lift your leg over and swing,” Jasper demanded.

A minute passed before Landon responded, fighting every movement.

“That’s it. Now, don’t spook him while you get the hang of the reins. I would hate to have to chase you down.” Jasper stroked the horse’s mane, encouraging Landon to do the same. Landon’s hand shook as he moved it forward.

“He is just as afraid of you as you are of him. Reassure him.” Jasper nudged Landon, and he finally placed his hand on the mane. Stroking softly, his facial expression eased. “You got this. Nice and easy.”

Jasper was teaching Landon to mount a horse for the first time in his life. Some boys fought it more than others. There was a fight-or-flight response to doing something that scared you. Each of these boys here had to overcome fears as a part of their program.

So far, the boys ranch was made up of fifteen spaces. Each boy, between the ages of twelve and eighteen, could come to this place for a six-to twelve-month program. A few were court-mandated to avoid juvie while most were encouraged by their parents. Some came for poor behavior, though it seemed several arrived strictly to avoid parenting. Then, there were the few who came to avoid being in a bad situation. Other family members, such as grandparents, would pay to have their grandsons brought here to learn to cope with abusive home lives.

I sat on the fence, watching my brother as he coaxed Landon, who was scared at the beginning of the lesson, fighting him the entire time to jump on top of a horse with such courage. Once he got up, he wanted to start galloping. Jasper talked so gently and yet with such authority while demanding the respect it took to listen.

Jasper had told me in a previous phone conversation that Landon came from an abusive home, like most of the boys at the ranch. Landon was terrified of his own shadow, not to mention a massive animal. It was incredible to watch my brother instill strength in a young kid. He was so young, and he had experienced more in those years than most kids did in their entire lives. Not many could imagine being beaten by their parents.

I held my chest as it tightened. Instances like this made my problems seem so insignificant. I didn’t know this boy. I had only seen him once the night before, and yet I had to fight to run up to him and hug him.

“You did it!” I yelled, clapping my hands profusely.

Josh, one of the boys I met, looked at me, curiosity in his eyes.

“That was impressive.”

Jasper grinned. He knew I meant no harm, though Landon might think me crazy.

“Don’t mind her, Landon. She is just a big cheerleader and wants to encourage you,” Jasper encouraged Landon, and he relaxed his shoulders. No words were uttered back.

What lives did these boys have that my own naive mind couldn’t comprehend? If this was my reaction to the first boy I watched, I could only imagine how attached I would feel before the summer ended.

Leaping down, I leaned my back up against the fence, stretching my aching lower back, and continued to observe.

Jasper helped Landon jump off, unsaddle, and brush the horse, and Landon grabbed a drink of water from the hose. Jasper gave him permission to go play for an hour with the other boys at the watering hole, and he ran in excitement.

“He’s an amazing kid, Jasper,” I said as Jasper’s gaze followed where Landon ran off. “Watching him conquer a fear like that, I felt inspired.”

Jasper maneuvered his way closer. His cowboy hat sat soundly on his head, and his bulky torso eased next to mine.

“He is amazing.” He paused, lost in thought. “So are you, Harp. You could easily do the same thing.”

His serious gaze caused me to shuffle my feet. He knew the doctors forbade me from doing anything that could cause me to fall. Falling equaled a higher percentage of fusing, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do or even attempt.

“Nah, I’m good.” I nudged his arm. “You were great with Landon. You’re natural with these boys. You’re in your element.”

“Don’t change the subject,” he chided while scratching at his jaw.

“Already did.”

I tightened my grip on the fence behind me, and he glanced in my direction. Seeing my stoic look, he knew to stop pushing. We’d had this conversation repeatedly. He wanted me to push myself to do more, to try more, for the sake of living. I, living with pain and fear, chose not to. It was safer. It was easier. It helped me not worry so much or add to my parents’ fears.

I fell into being thirteen all over again. Jasper had been getting ready to leave with his friends for the skating rink, and he had tried for an hour to convince me he wouldn’t let me fall. But all my mind could conjure were images of me landing on my backside and ending up regretting it for the rest of my life. Sometimes, “living life” meant staying alive and mobile.

At least, that was what I continued to tell myself.

Everett sauntered off in the distance with another boy. They walked toward his designated studio, also known as the garage, for teaching. The pull to follow him and watch him in action urged me forward. I planted my feet firmly on the ground to keep myself in place, forcing the desire to fall away.

“Can I ask what the deal is with Mr. Grump?”

“Who? Everett?” he asked, and I nodded. “You have him all wrong, Harp.” He folded his arms across his chest as we both stared off, watching them walk together.

“Enlighten me.” My eyes didn’t leave Everett’s form moving farther away from me. “He refused to acknowledge my existence. Twice.”

“Harp, he isn’t the same boy we knew growing up.” He unfolded his arms, letting them dangle free by his sides before continuing. “We knew a lot, but not everything. Even then, I think his demons grew as he got older.”

He took my silence as encouragement to tell me more about this grown-up version of a boy I used to know.

“Everett Jones is the best influencer we have on this ranch. I don’t even know everything he has gone through. He keeps a lot to himself. But I do know he’s trying. And honestly, coming here was probably the best thing that’s happened to him. He feels needed here, in a good and healthy way.”

He turned to face me. “Jason is great, but it takes months for kids to want to talk to him. I try my best. The horses are a good source of hard work for these boys. If they attach to a specific horse, it has even greater results. Being the authority figure here does cause a small sense of detachment with certain boys. Everett, on the other hand, he and his music have healed more than one soul here. I don’t know how he does it. I don’t think I ever knew how well he played, but boys who come here broken leave completely changed after working with him.”

I stared at the now-empty opening of the garage to soak up Jasper’s words. Obviously, Everett was a good teacher and a good person to want to do the job he did. Music was a powerful thing. But it still didn’t answer my questions.

“You know he’s like a brother to me. If only I had any musical talent, maybe I could be as powerful of a change maker like he is here.” He laughed.

“Too true.” I laughed back as he shoved my arm gently.

“He’s got his stuff, but this new version will grow on you.” He stood up. “Just give him a chance.”

“Fair enough.”

“I still trust him with my life, and I always have,” he said confidently as I brushed at the pricking of my skin.

“I know you do. But, Jasp, I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me that he was here. That seems like a vital piece of information to share on the phone or even to my face last Christmas.”

Folding my arms, I couldn’t shake the feeling arising within me. We shared everything with each other. Somehow, it was like he couldn’t trust me with the truth, and that stung.

“He asked me not to.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that it almost made sense.

“That’s it? He just asked, and you complied?”

“Yeah, that’s it. He didn’t want anyone to know he was here. Not even Mom and Dad. He wanted time to make a fresh start for himself. And I wanted to respect that. Seeing how he left everything to come work for me, it was the least I could do.”

It sounded familiar. It sounded like something Everett would ask. I couldn’t push away the fact that I was hurt, being kept from this information. Maybe that seemed silly. To me, not only had my brother kept something from me, but Everett had chosen to keep his whereabouts from me too. I wasn’t sure which bothered me more.

“I have to go to check on the boys to make sure no one is breaking any bones on the rope jump. You want to come?” Jasper asked, moving away from any more talk of Everett Jones.

“You go ahead. I kind of want to explore a little around here.” I glanced around and realized everyone was out of sight.

“No problem. Lunch is at noon. I’ll be back by then.” He turned to go, stopping halfway. “There’s a light walk through the trees over there to the left. It leads to a bench facing a pond, if you ever want to have a quiet place to read a good book.” He winked.

Jasper could read my mind better than anyone. Sometimes, I thought we were more like twins than years apart.

After heading back to my room, I grabbed my book from my bedroom, my reading glasses, and a bottle of water. It was cool enough outside that I could wear a lightweight sweater and leggings. Perfect for snuggling up with a good book.

I chatted with Martha and told her I would be back to help prepare lunch soon. I worked my way outside and started on the pathway Jasper had mentioned, but stopped in my tracks when I heard the same acoustic sound from last night ringing in the air.

I pivoted toward the garage, and my steps were lost to me. Before I could stop, I peeked inside the open doorway, trying to conceal my snooping. My eyes lingered. Everett was sitting lazily in a recliner while his fingers moved gracefully across the strings. Playing notes that would forever be etched into my memory. His eyes were closed, and he was completely immersed in his music, all while a boy—he looked about fifteen or so—sat with his guitar and watched in awe.

I had to stop from running in and putting my arms around him, thanking him for the relief he’d given me last night, but that reaction would imply familiarity. I had to remind myself that I was no longer sixteen and we were no longer the same people we had been. Instead, I reclined my head against the edge of the doorway and closed my eyes. I lost myself in the song, hearing and feeling the melody.

The music stopped, and my heart did the same.

My lashes fluttered open as I twisted my body around the doorframe. Everett stared directly at me, confusion written on his face. I covered my heated cheeks with my hands, feeling like an intruder.

“I’m sorry to have interrupted.” I bit my lip and took a deep breath. “Thank you for the beautiful song—again.” I half smiled at him before leaving the doorway, my feet not moving fast enough.

“No problem?” I heard him respond as if he didn’t understand what I meant, while my footsteps took me away.

“That was a delicious meal, Martha.” Jasper came to thank her with a kiss on her cheek.

“You always say that, you ol’ goon.” She smiled full-heartedly at him. “I could make you a bowl of cereal, and you’d think it was food from heaven.”

“Everything you touch is from heaven.”

He winked at her, and my own lips curved upward. If it were anyone else, I’d roll my eyes, but because it was Martha, I knew it was a genuine compliment.

“And thank you for helping, Harp.”

“My pleasure.” I continued collecting plates and loading them into the dishwasher.

“She’s really a godsend, Jasper. In the two days she’s been here, she’s already helped me lessen my cooking time by half. My feet and back appreciate it.” Martha sat down on a chair in the kitchen, a hand on her hip. “I ain’t as young as I used to be.”

“You’d never know it.” Jasper placed his dish in the sink, and Martha used her hand towel to swat him as he walked past her—something I noticed she did regularly to all the boys.

“Oh, hush.” She grinned, bright and welcoming. “If you were half this nice to any lady in town, you’d find yourself a wife already.”

“And that is my cue to leave.” He opened the back door. “Have fun, ladies.” He nodded toward us, his hat in hand, before leaving.

“That boy.” Martha shook her head. “It’s a wonder why he hasn’t settled down yet.”

“To you and me both.” I kept rinsing as Martha continued to converse with me, which was quite easy between the two of us. Conversation with her renewed my strength and gave me hope.

“To be honest, I don’t know if Jasper has ever had someone his eyes couldn’t stay away from. Maybe he doesn’t want to settle on just one. He’s a big flirt.” I dried my hands on the plaid kitchen towel and moved close to her.

He’d never had a long, serious girlfriend. He hadn’t left my side very often until coming here, and that piece of reality hit hard like a splash of cold water to my face.

“I could say the same for you, honey.” She winked and stood.

I held my tongue. I couldn’t break the poor woman’s heart by telling her I’d probably never get married. I was the closest thing she had to a granddaughter.

I glanced at the boys cleaning up the plates off the table, the clashing of dish against dish filling the air.

“How do you get them to clean up after themselves?”

“It’s required of them by all of us to teach them how to take care of themselves and be respectful of others. There’s a code of conduct they must follow. In the beginning, it’s harder, but once they see everyone else doing it, it helps them want to.” She glowed when she looked at them. “Besides, I think they know I love them dearly and that it’s helpful to me.” Her voice quavered.

I placed a handful of plates into the cupboard and stood in front of Martha. I stopped her from moving with a gentle hand on her arm. Her soft skin stretched beneath my palm. Years of living showed on the surface of her skin. What did the lines conceal? What had she experienced that still weighed so heavy?

“How can anyone not love you, Martha? You’re an angel in human form.” I knew her mind strayed to her wayward son.

Her eyes watered as her shoulders relaxed.

“Anyone who appreciates you knows how incredible you are.”

We shared a knowing look as we continued putting away the dishes, and she blew me a kiss in the air.

A prick on the back of my neck halted my movement. When I tilted my head, two piercing dark eyes stared back at me, stoic and alluring. Everett stood behind Josh and watched me from a distance.

Do I have something on my face? Why does he look at me like that?

Warmth spread down my shoulders as this unfamiliar sensation erupted. I forced my eyes away. I wondered if I didn’t reciprocate, maybe he’d go away. As the seconds grew longer and the heat of his stare warmed up and down my entire being, I realized something. Something the old Everett would do. He was trying to make me feel uncomfortable.

I turned around to grab more dishes from the counter behind me. I purposely took longer to retract my movements. By then, someone had caught his attention, and his eyes no longer followed me. I took the opportunity to observe him. The way his demeanor softened toward the boy talking to him confused me. It was like turning on a light in a darkened room, the entire mood shifted. His body language changed, and he stood, joking around with him, though I couldn’t tell if he smiled. His face was too hidden with facial hair, which was another reason why this new version of Everett intrigued me. Why did he feel the need to have a large, overgrown beard?

I didn’t understand him anymore. What I didn’t understand pulled me closer toward him. Like a magnetic force I couldn’t control. It was as if there were an invisible rope tied around my waist, and every time he moved, my entire being followed. I searched each room I walked into for him, his presence looming over me. I was not ready to internalize the reasons behind my actions. I just needed him to talk to me, to tell me why. Maybe then I could move away from this magnetism toward him and enjoy the rest of my summer.

7

HARPER

I found comfort in the repetition of our daily life. I woke up, got ready for the day, helped with breakfast, chatted with the boys, cleaned up and visited with Martha, followed Jasper around, and repeated for lunch and dinner. I fell asleep to Everett’s music playing, lost in a trance, only to wake up and do it all over again. Each day, I found something new about each person, and each time, I could breathe a little easier about being the new person around.

I finished a new routine in yoga and journal writing and began prepping for lunch. I tightened the patched apron around my waist, feeling the cotton around my neck. As I grabbed the wood cutting board from the drawer below, I placed the freshly washed apples on top.

“So, tell me about the men in your life.”

Martha’s comment caused me to accidentally cut a piece of apple the wrong way, and seeds flew up.

“Whoops.” I laughed. “What men?” I rubbed the back of my neck, subsiding the itch forming.

“There must have been someone in your life, past or present, that you were fond of.”

I loved the way she put her words. Fond of was exactly the way I would have thought.

Most of my friends would say, Who do you want to bang?

That just didn’t sit well with my old soul. Maybe I was meant to be best friends with a seventy-year-old woman who lived on a boy’s ranch.

“Well, there haven’t been too many, I’m afraid,” I said. “Senior year of high school, I had a boyfriend I thought I would marry. Once he spent time away at college and lived more, he realized my life would be too difficult for him to manage.”

“Oh, you poor thing. We never talked about boys while you were growing up,” Martha chimed in. “His loss, I tell you.”

“Try telling that to a lovesick eighteen-year-old girl who only saw her future husband no longer wanted her. It was a hard year.”

“I have no doubt. I bet you he’s kicking himself every day for what he’s missing out on.” Her response was smug, and I held back a grin.

“He has since been married. Twice.” I placed the sliced apples on a platter and moved to the lettuce, enjoying the crunching sound under my knife.

She laughed, slapping her thigh. “You’re kiddin’ me!”

“Nope.” I smiled.

“Two marriages and all under thirty. Whew, that is not a good track record, I tell ya!” She kept laughing. “Who else? Tell me.” She wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“I’m so happy my heartache causes you some joy.” I continued to smile. Looking back, I hadn’t understood what real love was, and now, I would admit to never having been in love. I loved the feeling of love, but it wasn’t the same thing.

“Oh, stop it, you.” She flung the towel at me. “It’s better to laugh about things that hurt than to dwell on the pain itself.”

“Beautifully said.”

“Now, go on.”

“I had two boyfriends in college. One was a rebound, and though he was a good experience for me, I still don’t know how I dated him. We were opposites. And the other guy, well, he found me interesting enough… along with another girl he was making out with. So, to say I have a good track record…” My smile faded as reality sunk in. Maybe I was bad at love.

“What jerks!”

“You’re telling me.”

“And since then?”

“Since then? No one.” I cleared my throat. This wasn’t how I’d pictured the conversation going. “I mean, I’ve dated. I’ve been close to relationships since, but nothing serious.”

“That’s just because the man you need is still being prepared for you.”

“Ha.” I hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“I’m serious. God always has a plan for these things.”

“Martha, you’re too kind. But let’s face it. I have a lot that comes with me. It would take a special person to be accepting of all of… me. It’s just not worth all the heartache anymore, trying to find him.” I puffed out hot air, flinging the cramp in my hands out in the air from all the slicing.

“What if you don’t need to find him?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if the man for you is right in front of you?”

“Martha, we’re in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of teenage boys. I don’t understand how that’s possible.” I ignored her eye contact and moved the lettuce into a bowl next to me.

“That’s what you think.” She nudged me with her arm. It was like she had concocted a plan as we spoke.

The door swung open, startling us both. We turned to see what was needed, and there, covered in sweat and mountain air, stood the only man on this entire acreage that could be a possibility in Martha’s mind. My heart pounded, and my mouth dried up.

“Everett, darlin’! What are you needing from us at this time of day?” Her motherly ways grabbed his arm to pull him closer.

“Well, Martha, we need some more water for our hike. The boy in charge, who shall not be named—Mike—didn’t plan ahead, and we are out a couple of gallons to survive.” His voice was deep and smooth. I caught myself before cutting my finger while mesmerized by it. “I came to grab a cooler from storage—that is, if it’s all right with you?”

I couldn’t quite tell under his thick beard, but I thought he’d hid a grin.

“Of course! In fact, I was just about to go up and grab something from my room. Harper now has a key, and I’m sure she would love to help you. Wouldn’t you, honey?” She eyed me, and I wanted to reject her with every fiber of my being.

“Mmhmm,” was all I mustered.

She clapped her hands together and smiled. “Wonderful. I’ll see you two later.”

I stood, waiting to see if he would make the first move. He didn’t. I turned to lead the way to the storage room. Just like I’d predicted, he didn’t say a single word. And yet, those five minutes we were alone, I was keenly aware of my fingers tingling and my heart racing. He made me nervous. Very nervous.

Martha’s words now haunted me.

Everett

Her hair smelled like berries. What kind? I wasn’t sure yet, but I was determined to find out. It was intoxicating. She made it impossible to ignore her, which was what I was desperately trying to do.

Why did she have to be so likable?

All the boys were obsessed. I’d had to stop them from their conversations before bedtime last night. They went on for an hour about her golden-blonde hair, her smile that lit up the room, how she went out of her way to help someone with the door or get their meal just right. Every boy felt like a million dollars when she gave them her full attention, as if they were the most important thing to her at that moment. It was borderline inappropriate how much they gushed over her. At least my authoritative teacher side of me thought so. The instinctive male side of me couldn’t agree more. Even Martha had loved her. Martha was my confidant. She was the only woman in the world I trusted, and now, Martha was under her spell.

“Do you want the blue cooler or the red?” she asked.

“Red,” I grumbled. What is wrong with me?

I couldn’t even say her name. It would make it all too real and make these feelings that I didn’t want to acknowledge rise closer to the surface and eventually bubble over. I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. It had taken me years of pushing those thoughts aside and realizing she was just a part of the past that I didn’t want to forget. But with those memories came the haunting ones. The ones that shook me to my core. The ones that would leave me panting from nightmares, trying to not scream out. The ones I’d spent the last ten years trying to bury so deep that I couldn’t fathom having to relive them.

While burying them, I had to do the same to everyone I knew, everything I cared about, along with it. At least right now, I could contain it. I could ignore it.

“Red it is,” she replied as I continued to follow her down the hall.

I’d accidentally come upon Martha and her conversation in the kitchen. It wasn’t like I was trying not to make myself known. I’d opened the back door, and neither of them noticed, so I lingered. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. The way her voice pitched up an octave as she expressed her heartache over a boy I had never known made me want to find him and sock him in the face for being a blind idiot to what he’d had the privilege of having. Being a part of her in any way was like holding a piece of her soul. She didn’t let just anyone in. That was an honor and something to cherish.

How could she not have a boyfriend? Any guy would be an idiot not to notice her. The craziest part was, she didn’t feel deserving of a good man. Why was that? Guys liked hot women. Nice butts. Bubbly personalities. It was physics. Everyone knew that. Even though she was more than that—so much more—any human male would notice her. Desire her.

As I followed her into that storage room, I had to fight my male instincts.

Stop. Don’t look at her.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand over my face.

“Where are you guys hiking to?”

I knew she was trying to break the silence.

I fluttered my eyelids open, and she was right there in front of me, and I was unable to look away. I watched the way her grown figure fit so nicely in those jeans and the way her hips swayed back and forth from pure curvature. I’d observed way too much of her over the course of the last few days. Noticing how she rarely remembered to take off her reading glasses that accentuated her blue eyes. Or how little wisps of her sun-golden hair always fell from her bun and lay gently along her face. I pushed back the desire to raise my hand and move it around her ear, which would make her facial features even more noticeable. That led to me noticing her softly shaped light-pink lips and the way her teeth bit down on her lower lip when she was contemplating something as her lip disappeared. I wanted to follow where it went. Men were flat-out blind not to see her.

Everett, you cannot go down this road.

“The north canyon. About fifteen miles.” I looked up at the ceiling, shaking my head.

I refused to notice anything perfectly sculpted and taunting to touch on this hypnotic creature. She was my best friend’s little sister. She had been so young when I left. I didn’t know this version of her, and I didn’t need to.

My mental state would be lighter if she were nonexistent. But life without knowing her was a life lost.

I knew logically that she was my friend. Someone I had looked forward to seeing every time I came over to the Masons’ household. And so far, I could see not everything had changed. She was still the light, airy, lovely, and adorably predictable girl. She did the same thing every day—drank her green smoothie while she did yoga on the lawn, helped in the kitchen, and followed Jasper around. She ended her nights the same way—talking to every boy, making them feel important, let herself up to her room and sat on the window seat, reading a book while looking often at the moon.

I wasn’t a creeper. I tried not to acknowledge her. Her room just happened to face the garage that I worked at, and everywhere I turned, she showed up.

“Do you still play a lot?” she asked nonchalantly as she moved through the shelves.

Every night since I’d started working here, I sat on the swing and played whatever cover song made me feel something that day. I avoided my own songs. They brought up too much I didn’t want to relive. The failures. The lack of rewarding pursuits. Other artists’ songs were not off-limits. It became something that helped keep scars from resurfacing.

Growing up, I’d been told I felt too much. I was too emotional for a boy. I was too sensitive when I cried over something.

“Grow a pair, Everett. I didn’t have a daughter. I was given a son. Man up,” were the words that often haunted me, thanks to my father—if I could even call him that.

And even though it had been meant to toughen me up and make me more of a “man” in his eyes, all it did was make the emotions stronger. It fueled the fire inside me.

That was when I had turned to music. It was an outlet I was allowed to be emotional about without being judged or scrutinized. No one had to see my tears when I wrote a song. No one saw the emotion behind my closed eyes when I played. And if they did, they amounted to “feeling” the song. It was a perfect way to still be myself without the heartbreak.

“Yeah, I do.”

Apparently, she had not known about my quick trip to fame and back.

“Are you here all summer?” I initiated a question.

“Yeah, I am.” She handed me the cooler and rocked back and forth on her feet.

This was my safe place, my haven away from hell. I wanted to keep it that way. Harper would be leaving in a few short months, and life would go back to the way it had been. Calm, safe, alone. Just the way I liked it. No need to rehash the past and bring up old feelings from a life before.

I wished she’d stop looking at me like that. Like she knew me. Like she saw me.

“Did you need anything else?” her calm, sweet voice asked me, and I stared, lost in my own thoughts.

I nodded as she bit her lip and stepped around my immovable feet.

“Okay, well, have a good day, then.”

I nodded again, watching her leave the room without saying a word back. The nerves picked up like I was a sixteen-year-old boy all over again, and I retreated.

It reminded me of a time right after Harper had gotten her learner’s permit. She was desperate to find someone to take her driving, but her parents wouldn’t let her, overcautious and worrying the stress would cause her to flare—always overprotective all the damn time. It was infuriating to watch from the sidelines. I, being the person I was, defied that logic, convinced Jasper to go in on my plan, and we finagled our way into her room late one night. Trying to get her to leave without telling her parents was a feat in itself.

We drove out to the church parking lot and told her to get in the driver’s seat. She looked at us like we were crazy. After Jasper—who could talk her into anything—convinced her it was fine and safe, and her eyes beamed in a way I hadn’t seen a long time. My plan was working, and my heart soared.

I didn’t understand it at the time, but once I left years later, I realized that the feeling I was always chasing, always craving with the Mason kids, was to be loved and wanted. It, in turn, made me want to do more things to make them happy. When I had seen the joy on her face, the way she shimmied her shoulders as she pulled off the street and onto the main road, or her singing her favorite song on the radio, I had known that was where I wanted to be. Watching her and seeing her smile. It was one of many instances that I recalled feeling the same way, that comfort I craved.

My heart skipped a beat as I remembered the memory. And then my pulse quickened while I tightened my fists. Why did a woman I didn’t even know anymore have so much power over me? She didn’t know me. She didn’t know what I had been through. We had all been young and naive about real life, and I didn’t want to live in the past.

“She’s something, isn’t she?”

Martha startled me. I turned around to watch her gloating.

“I haven’t noticed,” I mumbled and crossed the room to load up the waters.

“That’s a bunch of baloney if I ever heard it,” she chided. “Your eyes tell differently.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Martha.”

“Don’t I ever.” She moved closer, and my stomach churned.

Martha was like the grandma I’d never had. She was one of those people whose hug could heal a piece of you that you hadn’t known was broken. She wasn’t afraid to say anything, and she was right about everything. Because she loved me, I knew I was about to get scolded.

“I’ve lived longer than you, boy. I think I know when attraction is in the air.”

As much as I wished to deny Martha’s words, I couldn’t. There was an undeniable attraction there, and that was what infuriated me. I didn’t want to be attracted to her. I didn’t want to be attracted to anyone. I wanted to live my life in peace and quiet. No drama. No confusing emotions. Just me and my music—something I knew like the back of my hand. The worst part of it all was that she probably saw me for what I wanted her to see. A grumpy, dirty, hairy man, no longer the boy she had once known, who had no desire to get to know the grown-up version of her in the least.

Good. Great.

“I love you, Martha, but I think you are starting to lose it.”

My defenses were up. She knew it, which was why she didn’t bat an eye at my comment. She walked over to me and patted my face gently.

“I love you too, my boy.”

That was what she called me. My boy. Though it felt like the world’s greatest treasure to be considered hers, I’d never let it show. I started to whistle the tune of a song I knew she understood. She smiled and retreated.

Maybe one day, when I was in my sixties too, I would allow people in a bit more. By then, I would know how to juggle different compartments of my life. For now, I’d just stick to my square box of what I know.

And that didn’t include a woman.

8

HARPER

THEN

There was a chill in the air as my fingers gripped tightly to the slippery pink water balloon, trying not to let the water pool out. Fixated on getting it tied correctly, I didn’t notice when the weight hit my neck as warm liquid trickled down back and onto my seat. This week, I was stuck in a wheelchair, and that made retaliation laborious.

“I’m going to crush you like a soda can,” I muttered under my breath, knowing full well that Jasper thought I was too polite to say it aloud. I attempted to turn fast, though my wheel caught as I threw the balloon in my hand so hard that my arm throbbed from the motion. “Got ya!” I yelled out and faced the bulging eyes of the person staring back at me, soaked in water.

They weren’t my brother’s eyes. They were Everett’s.

“Did you just… come at me? With a water balloon?” He looked disgusted at the thought.

I covered my mouth and stifled a giggle as a natural response, but inwardly, I worried he would be upset. Everett was three years older than me, but that did not stop him from treating me like the annoying little sister to his cool best friend. My eyes wandered around, my brother nowhere in sight. He must have played a hit-and-run.

Smooth, Jasper. Real smooth.

“You aren’t at all what I was aiming at. I was hoping for someone a little taller, real blond, and extremely annoying.” I cleared my throat. “Someone you tend to hang out with way too much for your own good.” My attempt at humor was awful, but talking to boys, especially anyone older than me, caused bile to rise to my throat.

Per Everett’s normal tendency, he stared at me like I was translucent. I knew I wasn’t, but he could come off insensitive in his need for hiding. I knew better.

I was grateful Jasper had someone other than me to spend his time with, someone he always felt the need to take care of. They had each other. I, on the other hand, had no one. Jasper was the only person to give me the time of day. Everyone at school thought I was a freak of nature who got excused from doing everything, and everyone at church thought I was someone to pray over. It didn’t leave much room for connection.

“He went around back. Do you want me to get him for you? Give you another chance to soak his face too?” Everett responded.

He shuffled his feet, flipping his hair out of his face, as if he were self-conscious about it, though I couldn’t care less. I was the one currently in a wheelchair while he stared awkwardly at me. If anyone should be self-conscious, it should be me.

“No thanks. I’ll chase him another day.” I half smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Even at my age of thirteen and his sixteen, the youthful misunderstanding felt thick in the air. Did he see me as a young woman, or did he just see me as a pestering little girl? Should I acknowledge that he was looking more and more like a man every single day with his facial hair growing in and his lengthy, skinny body beginning to bulk? I had worn mascara that day to bring out my eyes and feel the distinction myself, but I highly doubted it was noticed.

“Look up!” I heard a voice yell, and by instinct, I looked up in wonder as a bright blue water balloon came crashing down on my face. “Bull’s-eye!” Jasper’s gloating voice echoed in my water-filled ears.

The need to be seen vanished.

“Seriously, Jasper? Did you have to do that?” Everett sounded annoyed, but I was not in a place to think much about it, wiping away excess water from my now raccoon-stained eyes.

“It’s a water fight, bro. That’s how it’s done,” Jasper argued.

“Still, you didn’t have to hit her face.” Everett’s hands raked through his hair, and he glared at Jasper and looked as if steam were coming from his ears.

“What stick is up your butt, dude? We’re just playing around.” He shoved him as he moved in my direction.

“She can’t even run away from you! It’s not a fair game!” Everett shoved him back.

“She doesn’t want to be treated like an invalid, Everett. Right, Harper?” Jasper’s voice rose higher with each word.

It was true. On the one hand, I didn’t want anyone treating me differently. I wanted to be like everyone else. Play what everyone else was playing. Do what everyone else was doing. On the other hand, I couldn’t have run away from that hitting my face. I was different. Was that something I needed to just accept? I hadn’t even realized up to this point how my health could mess with how I viewed myself.

“It’s fine, guys. I’m totally fine. Promise. Thanks for playing.” Wheeling towards the front door, not wanting to acknowledge the emotions building up inside me, I pushed as fast as my arms would allow.

“Dude! Now, she’s upset!” Jasper pushed Everett and walked past him to catch up with me.

“I’m fine, Jasper. Go hang out with your friend and leave me alone.”

What might have come across as feeling hurt from being hit by a balloon didn’t even come close to the emotions stirring within me. I wanted to play. I did my part to be included in the game. I didn’t care that my brother soaked me with water from head to toe. What bothered me was how Everett had reacted. I didn’t always see myself the same way others did. The thought that others would be concerned if I was uncomfortable hadn’t occurred to me until he said something.

Looking down at myself behind the closed door of my room, I saw my awkwardly growing body sitting in a chair. Did people think I was incapable of having fun? That I would somehow turn every situation into my health being an obstacle? School was one thing. The teachers rearranged and accommodated my needs. My so-called friends never invited me to play, and I continued to sit on the sidewalk during recess. I didn’t think my friends were not including me because they didn’t want to.

Did everyone feel sorry for me? Did Everett? Someone I had looked up to for most of my life. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.

Now, I questioned everything.

Knock, knock.

The sound jolted me from my continuing questions as I wiped away the tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t will the puffy red eyes away, but I could get rid of the waterworks.

“Harp?” Jasper pleaded on the other side of my door. “I’m sorry I was being careless. Sometimes… sometimes, I forget because it’s just how life is for us. I was just having fun with you. I didn’t stop to think of how it would affect you.”

I opened the door to see his arms stretched out. I couldn’t walk into his arms to return the favor, and the tears welled up again.

“Oh, come on, Harp. Don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”

“It’s not about the water balloon.” I sniffed. “I was having fun too.”

He just waited for me to control my tears.

“I can’t even give you a real hug. Honestly, I was fine until Everett reacted. Then, it made me realize, once again, how different I am. Sometimes, I like to forget too. And I just want him—” I had to stop myself before I regretted the words coming out.

This was my brother, not my girlfriend. I couldn’t just tell him that I wished his best friend would look at me like a normal, somewhat-attractive young woman. That I wished he saw me the way a boy should see a girl. We were all practically family, and that would cause a slew of issues. I didn’t want to acknowledge it within myself.

“I just want him to treat me normal too.” I covered my tracks.

“I get it. I do. But, Harper, you aren’t a typical girl. Probably because you’ve dealt with a lot in your short years. You aren’t shallow and annoying, and you don’t only care about catching boys’ attention.”

Is that a bad thing to want? I kept that to myself and let him go on.

“Ev and I, we are just protective of you because we care.”

I knew they cared. I saw it every day, and it helped alleviate the constant ache of loneliness and sadness I fought. I needed to see it from their perspective and stop being self-sabotaging, but I just wanted to be normal, and I didn’t even know what that was yet.

“Thanks, Jasper. I know you care. You’re both the best,” I said as he leaned over to awkwardly hug me.

“Now, can we finish the game? We can even hit Shannon’s house instead of each other. Get all the anger out.”

Jasper knew I did not like Shannon, our neighbor. She made fun of me every chance she got.

“Sure, I’ll be out in a minute.” I half smiled to reassure him enough to walk away.

Once I heard the garage door open and close, I let out a deep breath, rolling around my wrists before I had to push at my wheels again. I turned the corner into the hallway to find Everett standing there, unsure of himself. He was mumbling words and looking back and forth until he saw me and stopped abruptly.

“I was… coming to talk to you.”

“Did you get lost?” I tried to smile and hide the crying eyes but ended up looking down in discomfort instead.

There was silence. Something I learned I found comfort in. Everett’s silence. The moments I knew he was trying to think of the right thing to say, or just didn’t know what to say at all, or just wanted to be. Anyone else would take him wrong, like he was rude or inconsiderate for his lack of responses or facial expressions. I just found him quiet, calm.

“I don’t see you as something breakable, or not strong enough, or not good enough in any way.” His voice shifted, but not in a nervous way.

His surety caught me off guard, and my eyes welled up again. I shut them, trying to hide it.

“You are different, Harp. In the best of ways.” He took a small step forward, fidgeting with his hands in the front pockets of his hoodie, splashes of water covering his front. “I know I got defensive, but it isn’t because I think less of you; it’s because I think more.”

He came forward, knelt in front of me and grabbed my hand. He’d never touched me like this before. Did I like it? I thought I did. A tear escaped my eye, and he wiped it away.

“Stop thinking less of yourself, Harper. You are better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

The emotion welled up within my chest, and it took everything in me not to pull him into my arms and cling to what it might feel like to be there.

I whispered, “Thank you,” and he nodded before standing and moving behind me.

He pushed my wheelchair to the garage door and lifted the entire chair over the hump of the doorframe. Without another word, he pushed me into the street, where my brother was standing, two water balloons in hand.

“You ready?” Jasper asked deviously as he nodded in the direction of Shannon’s house.

I knew it wasn’t the nicest thing to do—we’d always been taught to treat others the way you wanted to be treated—but something inside me had come alive, and I wanted to chase it. I put out my hand, and Jasper placed a balloon there while Everett picked up another from the bucket.

“On the count of three. One, two, three.” I threw it as hard as I could, which wasn’t very far, as it was hard to throw while sitting, but it unleashed a freeing feeling.

I looked slyly over to Everett, and he was smiling back at me. It was a rare moment I wanted to always capture and hold in my pocket.

My heart skipped a beat.

Something inside me changed that day, and I was going to remember it for quite some time.

9

HARPER

NOW

I became the designated extra hand in the kitchen, and I thought Martha appreciated it. Having time with her was just the thing I needed, a healing balm and a sounding board for pieces of me that I hadn’t known needed mending. She validated my feelings, no matter how absurd they felt. She encouraged me to do the things I knew I needed to do to feel better. She even made my smoothies for me to hold me accountable each morning.

During our conversations, she told me a lot about each of the boys and their struggles. Especially the three that I felt closest to—Michael, Clarence, and Landon. Maybe it was because they had all made an effort to welcome me, but it was natural and easy to feel close to them.

Michael loved to escort me around; Clarence, though gruff at times, always had my back; and Landon just followed me around like a puppy dog as a positive boost throughout the day.

Martha gave me all the dirt on every worker there. Now that I was older and could hear the “hard stuff,” she didn’t sugarcoat anything. I learned about the minister’s wife and her infidelity. The owner of the hardware store, Phil, was a recovering alcoholic. The old barn had burned down because of fights between neighboring lands. All things I’d never known when I was staying here, but I knew the people just from floating around town. It was a small place.

She spoke often of her sweet Milton, and we reminisced about our memories together. She talked occasionally about her boy, though she would grow melancholy, and I’d try to veer the conversation each time. More than anything, she grew to love each boy as if they had become her family since she had none of her own anymore, and this place was what she needed.

Even through the silly conversations, we weaved the intricacies of life into everything we talked about, and through that, hope was felt. Having her wisdom, her solid eye for things I had yet to experience, her perspective, I could feel that wisdom and hope rooted in me as a way of growth. It seemed to be a place of healing for the majority here.

I attended some of the classes, took walks when I could, and even watched all fourteen of the boys swim—I couldn’t remember all their names—at the pond, where they would endlessly try to get me soaked. Some boys were more troubled than others—or at least acted as such. They had chips on their shoulders and never wanted to talk or even smile while others warmed right up to me and made me feel at home. All in all, they seemed to be a good group of kids once they had their breakthroughs. I was determined to help what little I could while I was here. Most, if not all, of them needed love and attention—something they hadn’t had in their own homes.

Pushing my thoughts back to what I was doing, the summer afternoon heat beat down on us while we worked on a service project. We were putting together care packages for natural disasters all over the country. The goal was to pack as many boxes with as many bags of items as fast as possible.

“I think Harper is cheating!” Landon’s high-pitched voice shrieked in excitement. “Or her arms are longer and faster.”

I placed item after item in each box and passed it down, five seconds to each movement. My hands shook from excitement and aches as plastic bags continued to slip from my fingers.

“Hold your horses down there!” Michael yelled while throwing his bags of socks in, his flailing arms mimicking a dancing monkey.

The three in particular who clung to me anytime I was near, made the slow part of the days much more bearable. Jasper had joked that they all had crushes on me, but the thought was unsettling since I saw myself as more of an older sister.

Landon was the sweetest boy. He made sure I was comfortable and had what I always needed. He was not shy with his smile. Something about him felt familiar and comforting. If I’d ever had a little brother, I’d wish he would be just like him. Clarence was moody and a major follower. He was Michael’s shadow. Michael thought he ruled the ranch. Even with his cocky attitude, he, too, acted as though he would do anything to help someone in need. I wouldn’t tell him that, or he would deny it.

“You’re all just jealous that you can’t keep up!” My arms grew tired with the constant action, but my group was close to the timer going off, and I had to help my team thrive.

Friday night’s tradition was to celebrate a week’s worth of hard work, and everyone had talked about it for days. The boys would take turns singing, playing a guitar, harmonizing with each other, all while roasting marshmallows. It was the day of the week everyone looked the most forward to, and it pushed them all to get their work done.

Today was Thursday, so the time was almost near.

“I, on the other hand, am lucky AF to have her on my team.” Clarence smiled while his arms moved quickly with boxes of toothpaste, each making a clunk sound.

“Close call there, Clarence. We still have twenty minutes on the clock. Anything can happen!” Jasper chimed in from the opposite side of the table. His arms were fast but less graceful.

“There we go. That’s the spirit!” Michael yelled with a fist bump in the air.

“Stop it, Mike. You’re wasting time with your arm up like that.” Landon’s serious glare shocked us all.

The rivalry was strong, and the snide remarks continued.

Ten minutes later, our team was in the lead. We won at the last second. The cheering from the boys resounded inside the barn.

“In your face!” Clarence shouted, gloating at anyone who would listen.

Jasper spoke up. “Good game, boys. Too bad you aren’t finished until every box is filled.”

We all looked over to the stack of items still lining the bottom of the back wall. Moans escaped everyone’s mouths. I used my cheerleading voice and kept the lines moving, but the pace slowed significantly.

Everett was in and out of the project as he and Jasper did all the heavy lifting. Boxes were being raised and carried to and from the trucks. I was surprised by his strength and endurance, being the lean musician that he was. He used to help my dad and brother do projects and had a keen eye for detail. I hadn’t paid attention back then to the way his muscles flexed with each movement. Nor had there been a tattoo wrapped around his bicep, hiding slightly underneath the fabric of his sleeve. I didn’t mean to note how well he fit in his light-washed blue jeans. Or how his hair was wrapped in a bun at the nape of his neck, all curls confined, allowing me to see glimpses of his neck and jawline. No, I didn’t mean to notice any of it.

I kicked myself, trying not to see where he was at all times, but his presence was like a constant boomerang whenever we were in the same vicinity. It was like I could feel him whether I saw him or not. He still chose to withdraw from conversation anytime I was within reach. He spent hours in conversation with the boys, though nothing with me. He pretended like my entire existence was irrelevant.

I knew I’d had a connection with him growing up, but I didn’t remember it being this strong. Either I had been ignorant or grown-up versions of us had changed that perspective. The ache gnawed at my chest for the lack of him acknowledging me or talking to me when we had been so close once before, but I tried to remember the version of him I knew and loved. The version which was closed off, quiet, though kinder in his heart than he let on. I chose to give him his space and hoped he would come around when he was ready.

“Miss Harper, can I ask you a question?” Landon’s serious voice was a wonderful distraction.

“What are we, in school?” Clarence chimed in with his sarcasm. He straightened his spine, stretching his neck out tall, and I wanted to laugh.

“It’s called being polite, Clarence. Something you should learn.” I winked at him.

The wink was my newfound game changer. I could say whatever I wanted and get away with it. Even if it was to chastise them, it softened the blow.

“Yeah, Clarence. Learn how to speak to a lady.” Michael arrived from nowhere with his desired authority dripping from him.

“And who says you know how to do that, bruh?” Clarence argued back. “Last I heard, you made out with every girl in the eleventh grade and left them crying about you. Is that how you treat ladies?” he dramatized while putting air quotes up.

“Those were girls, Clarence. Girls are immature and act like they need coddling.” He bumped arms with me to try to squeeze his way into the space between me and Clarence. “Now, here’s a woman.” He put both arms up in my direction. “They hit different.” He flung his hair from his eyes.

Sometimes, the phrases they used were lost to me.

“Oh, please. You’re so full of it, Mike,” Clarence retorted as he flared his nostrils.

“You’re salty today, dude,” Michael responded as Clarence snorted.

“Yes, Michael, you should treat ladies with respect and dignity, but the same goes for all women. Girls and the like. If you ever want a girl to like you and reciprocate your feelings, you must show them you actually have some.” I elbowed him and then turned my attention to Clarence. “Don’t worry, Clarence. I’ll teach you boys everything you need to know. By the time you leave, the girls will be crawling all over you.”

“Ew. I don’t want to be crawled on, thank you very much.”

Clarence’s snide comment had me laughing out loud. Regaining my composure, I twisted my stance.

“Now, Landon, what did you want to ask me?” I focused on him as his cheeks pinked.

“Never mind.”

“Come on now. She won’t bite,” Michael joked and fist-bumped Clarence.

I stopped and waited for him to respond.

After a minute of silence, he piped up, “I was just wondering. Um… why exactly are you here with us? We never really get visitors.”

My mind blanked as my mouth dried up. They didn’t know the reason behind my appearance at the ranch.

“Well, Landon, that is a great question.” I cleared my throat and rubbed my shoulder. “I am a schoolteacher, so naturally, I have summer breaks.” I moved to place another item in the bag. “And Jasper, he is my best friend, and I hadn’t seen him in a year. I really wanted to visit.”

“But why the whole summer?” Clarence said. “And why won’t you get on a horse? This is a horse ranch. Are you afraid or something?”

“Dude, let it go,” Michael chided him.

“It’s fine. They’re all very reasonable questions.” I paused for a second. The air escaped my lungs, and warmth crept up the back of my neck. “I was encouraged to stay all summer to get out of the heat and enjoy the mountains. And…” I found no pleasure in talking about this aspect of my life. “I actually have a chronic illness that makes it difficult for me to be active sometimes.”

“That’s lit,” Clarence and Michael said at the same time.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, Miss Harper. And lit means cool.” Landon smiled.

That was it? No questioning?

“Thank you, Landon. I am too.”

It was hard not to do anything but smile at him. Relief flooded my body, and I took a minute to reground my feet under me. The idea of not being treated differently—that was a new experience for me.

We had a few more random conversations, some leading to the boys arguing or fighting. It wasn’t until Michael spoke up that he threw me off-guard.

“So… Miss Harper… how is it, being stuck with a bunch of boys?”

“I love it, and I’m learning a lot. But… it’s definitely different.” I smiled.

“Like how?” Landon asked.

“Well, boys just talk about boyish things, and girls talk about girlish things, and they aren’t always the same.”

He looked at me with questioning still in his gaze.

“For instance, boys like joking around about their muscles and how loud they can belch, and girls like talking about boys they like and what clothes to buy.”

They nodded their heads with understanding.

“In that case, what type of guy do you like? Do you have a boyfriend?” Michael asked.

I covered my mouth to stop laughing.

“WTF, dude? We are guys. We don’t talk about this shi—” Clarence cut off when he saw Jasper stop in the distance and glare at him.

“When you’re stuck with a bunch of dudes for months at a time, you get desperate. She needs girl talk too. Lay off, bro.” Michael covered up his annoyance with a cough. “Anyway, you don’t have to answer, but it does pass the time.”

“Uh, no, I don’t currently have a boyfriend.”

There were other members of the staff here, and anyone could overhear these conversations. Warmth returned, and the need for re-navigating felt imperative.

“So, if you had to pick someone, who would you pick?” Michael prodded. “You have to say specifics. Like, describe what he would look like.”

“Um—”

Landon spoke up on my behalf. “Don’t let them bully you into talking, Miss Harper. It’s no one’s business.”

“Here, I’ll tell you what I like.” Michael pushed the subject. “I like tall, curvy, blonde, and kind of a book-nerd, girl-next-door vibe going on.”

“Dude, you just described Miss Harper. You weirdo,” Clarence said.

“Did not,” Michael pushed. “Do you have a younger sister?” He turned his attention back to me.

I knew if I didn’t tell them what I thought, this conversation would never end.

“I like tall, usually dark-haired men.” I got all their attention. “Clean-shaven. Nice smile. Passionate about something.”

“Like a musician,” Clarence chimed.

“Or an actor. They’re passionate too,” Landon said.

“There’re a lot of passionate careers.” Michael rolled his eyes.

I continued, “Driven. Compassionate. Hardworking. Educated. A lover of music and reading. And of course, have respect for women. Preferably for his mom.”

I winked at the boys and pushed past the embarrassment. They were teenage boys after all, and their opinion didn’t matter. Somehow, saying the words aloud made them ring true. The realization had come to me at a young age. I was twenty-six and destined to be single.

“Does that satisfy your curiosity?” I turned to Michael to see his face go stoic.

He looked like he had seen a ghost. His eyes went right past me.

“Yes, actually. That did satisfy my curiosity,” a deep but quiet voice from behind me said, making me jump.

Looking back, I came face-to-face with none other than the man who had yet to speak a full sentence to me. Of all the awkward conversations today to overhear, why did he have to hear this one? I looked for a place to run and hide somewhere far, far away, but my feet were unmovable. Was he being sarcastic? I didn’t know sarcasm on him.

“We were just playing a silly game to pass the time,” Michael said as he tried to brush off the entire conversation.

Landon spoke up for me again. “The boys pushed her into telling them things. Don’t let them fool you, Everett.”

His gaze overlooked me to look at the boys, then over our line of work. Was he sizing us up? I couldn’t read him.

“Nicely done, boys. You got a lot accomplished.” He then looked back to me, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary. “As you were,” he said as if we were in the army and he were the drill sergeant.

It infuriated and intrigued me all at the same time.

The boys jumped at the chance to leave the stiffness. They went about their tasks as if nothing had happened while I continued to stand there, watching Everett walk away. Fitting perfectly in his jeans with his air of authority and possibly ridiculous sarcasm.

Where are you, Everett? Where did you go?

I knew he was buried deep down inside all the hurt and pain and broodiness. I just needed to find a way to crack him open.

10

EVERETT

The understanding of why my stomach was hard in knots after I accidentally overheard the conversation with the boys was lost on me. They all talked so easily with her. What was it about her that got them to open up as if they had known her their entire lives? She hadn’t even been here that long. Sometimes it took me months to break through their walls.

Then, to hear what she saw in the perfect man… I didn’t know why I cared, but I did.

I wanted to know everything. I wanted to let them talk longer and have her open up her deepest thoughts to them so I could hear what she liked physically. Would she be able to look past someone who was covered in hair and tattoos? I knew that wasn’t typical growing up in the Mason household. Many things were off-limits. Did she mind someone who would rather wear jeans and T-shirts than a suit and tie? Someone who felt a little lost the majority of the time?

Not that it mattered. She wasn’t my type. The type you put your heart into, dived deep with, and never let go. That was what I continued to tell myself over and over again.

“Do you agree, Everett?” I heard Michael pipe up after I tried to leave the area.

My heels dug into the gravel, crunching under me as I turned. I’d like to pretend as if I hadn’t heard anything, but I thought they’d all know that was a lie. His devious smile attempted to pull information out of me.

“What are you referring to?” Choosing my words carefully with these boys wasn’t as easy as it seemed. At times, I’d rather yell, I don’t give a damn, instead of keeping the anger stewing at bay.

I eyed her, curious about her thoughts without giving mine away. She wore red today, a color that accentuated her complexion and radiated love.

“Respecting women. Being kind to your mom.” Landon’s puppy-dog eyes were hard to deny. His smile beamed as he looked longingly at her. The poor kid was lovesick, not that I blamed him.

She watched the conversation transpire, sitting beautifully with the sun reflecting gold in her hair and fighting a smile. I knew she wanted to hear what I would say. I saw the glint in her eyes. I knew it well.

I’d show her.

“Every woman should be treated respectfully.” I couldn’t disagree with that statement. I had known that since I had been a little boy. “Even when they don’t deserve it.”

“Why would a woman not deserve it?” Clarence fluffed his hair nonchalantly.

She met my gaze head-on, those soft blue eyes waiting with wonder.

“That is a wonderful question, Clarence,” I said.

She held my stare, not moving a single beat. The look in her eyes caused a heat to trickle down my skin, and I couldn’t tell if it made me angry or nervous. I grated my boot further in the dirt, locking my hands in my pockets—my comfort zone.

“You know the saying ‘treat others the way you want to be treated?’” I asked, and all three boys nodded their heads. “Sometimes, that feels quite literal. It works great for those who treat someone well; it’s easy to treat someone kindly who’s nice to you, but what about those who don’t?” I folded my arms. “Everyone has a right to think and feel how they want. It’s called free will. But just because someone treats you badly doesn’t mean you should turn around and treat them poorly.” I watched the wheels turn in their heads. “In reference to what we are talking about—you can be beaten by a man and want to punch him back. But you get hit by a girl, and you’re taught to not hit back. Whether it’s right or wrong, the truth still stands. You treat others how you want and how everyone should be treated.”

“Ugh, that makes no sense,” Clarence whined.

“Huh,” Landon asked.

I waited a minute to see if anyone would chime in, but they didn’t.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Landon.” I inched my way toward him and whispered in his ear loud enough for everyone to hear, “Women are better than men.” I winked at him. “I was taught that it didn’t matter how you treated someone or what you did to them; you still had to give what was asked of you. I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to be. We need to learn to treat others with respect so that, in turn, they want to treat you the same way.” I eyed her as another memory came to fruition.

My mother’s resilient form lay quite limp on the bed, her back to the door as I tiptoed lightly around the edge of her floral comforter. Her hair was smashed against her head while her feet were bare, which was unusual for her.

I was ten, but still so naive to what truly went on in my home. There were moments when things didn’t feel quite right, a look, an angered phrase shouted, not having a meal on the table. I chose to believe it was all a part of life at that point.

“Are you okay, Mama?” I asked, attempting to sound brave as I pulled at my button-up shirt.

She turned her back up slightly while answering me without facing me, “Of course, dear. Nothing you need to worry yourself over.” She didn’t look at me, almost as if she were hiding.

“Why won’t you turn to me, Mama?”

Her body stilled. She sniffled. “I just need some rest. Why don’t you put on a cartoon, and I’ll be out in a little while?” She tried her hardest to calm her voice, but I could tell she had been crying.

I walked over to her side of the bed, forcing her to look at me. The look on her face was one I hadn’t seen before. She looked defeated, the side of her mouth black and blue, her eyes red and swollen.

“What happened?” My eyes widened as I reached for her, and she recoiled.

“I fell, baby.” She clamped her eyes shut.

There was a beat of silence, and it stung like a bee, but all over me.

“Can I bring you something?”

“No, I just need to close my eyes for a bit.” She wiped away a tear and reached for my hand, squeezing it gently.

“Mama, did Dad do this to you?” I didn’t know how I’d gained the courage to ask that for the first time, but I couldn’t ignore the feelings roaring inside of me.

She ignored my question.

“My boy, if there is anything in this world I can teach you, it’s to always be kind. Never ever lay a hand on a woman unless it’s with gentleness and love. Being kind is what makes the world a better place, and you, my boy, will make the world a better place. You hear me?”

I nodded my head.

“I love you. Now, let your mama rest.” She closed her eyes and didn’t wake up until the next day.

My dad didn’t come home either.

It was then that I’d realized life was not at all the way I’d thought it was.

“Sometimes, people in the world are evil and do really bad things. Especially to women. For some reason, bad men think that women are helpless and can’t fend for themselves whether it’s size or stature or just how they were made.”

At this point, all three boys were meeting my gaze, and several more meandered closer.

“But that isn’t correct. Women are strong. They are courageous and invaluable. Our job here at the ranch is to teach you boys the power of being the best version of yourselves. You need to learn to always treat the people in your life with care, concern, consideration, and understanding. You never know what someone is going through behind closed doors that manifests in how they act. Kindness, boys. That is the whole focus.”

My mama’s words, still strong in my mind, didn’t ease the heaviness in my chest that sank low into the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t been treating Harper as kindly as I should have been. In my desire to keep her at arm’s length, I was pushing away the one thing I’d sworn I’d always do right—be kind. I needed to find a better balance as these new emotions swirled inside of me.

I looked at her and understanding shone bright. My shoulders dropped, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to run into her arms and hold her as tightly as I could. It was as natural of a reaction as it had always been, but incomplete. She knew what I was referring to. The feeling of being known was overwhelming, like walking outside with the sun at high noon, the heat and brightness enveloping me whole. I scratched my forehead, breaking eye contact, trying to will the feelings from my brain.

“That was beautiful,” she said softly.

I ignored the way my heart picked up its pace and how my hand itched persistently to touch her.

“I like that,” Landon replied, his face now resting on his palm. “I think that sounds dope.” He looked at Harper and said, “That means awesome.”

I hid a grin.

“I wish I knew who my mom was.” Michael’s sad voice did something to my insides as he kicked at brush nearby.

Harper went to put her arm around him, pulling him close.

“She left before I was old enough to even remember her face,” he said it so matter-of-factly that I wondered at the feelings that lay deep underneath the surface of his words.

“Better than your mom slapping you all the time for never saying the right thing.” Clarence, too, seemed disheartened.

Landon went over and sat down right next to Clarence in a brotherly manner. This conversation was taking a different route than I had thought. I was grateful these boys felt like they could trust me and talk to me. I would never take that for granted.

“We must always learn from other people’s mistakes. The way it makes you feel, it isn’t something you want to make others feel too.” Harper’s voice was soft as she rubbed Michael’s arm and put another hand on Clarence’s shoulder.

“Now, it makes more sense!” Landon’s high-pitched tone made us all smile and allowed the seriousness to ease.

“I’m glad something I said stuck.” I didn’t want to look over at her, but my eyes had other plans.

Jasper sauntered over to our circle. “You boys ready for round two?”

Moans erupted, and Harper smiled. There it was again—a catching in my breath when my heart pounded fiercely. I rubbed my chest, willing the feeling away.

“Come on, boys. We can do it!” Harper stood enthusiastically, clapping in front of her.

She pulled up Michael by the hand, and everyone trickled upward.

“Only one more hour, and you guys get to have two hours to yourselves. Then, a campfire tomorrow night.” Jasper tried his best at bribery. It only worked half the time. He rubbed his hands together, winking at Landon as he passed.

Harper slowed her pace, and her graceful hand touched my arm, sending a chill down to my fingertips. I retracted by slowing my steps, her hand leaving me with comfort to follow.

“You really know how to get through to them,” she said confidently. “It doesn’t surprise me one bit.” She smiled and sauntered off, her hips swaying back and forth.

My heart thumped loudly in my ears while I rubbed my arms at the numbing sensation forming. Shaking my shoulders to stimulate some circulation, I pulled at my shirt without thinking.

Words were always her superpower. She knew the right thing to say and when to say it. I'd held on to every compliment she had ever given me.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I heard Jasper come up from behind me. His smug smile under his cowboy hat made me want to take that toothpick out of his mouth and stab him with it.

“Not sure what you mean.” I attempted to hide the shame of thinking repetitively about his sister.

“I saw you gaze off during your conversation with the boys. Was it a memory of your mom?” Jasper wasn’t even within the circle and was always more in tune with his surroundings than he let on.

“Right.” I sighed with relief. “Just something I remembered from a long time ago. I hadn’t thought about it in years.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” I shifted in my stance, putting more weight on the opposite foot as my hands moved to my hips. “Need any help?”

He eyed me warily. “Sure. Let’s move this load to the red truck for delivery.”

“All right,” I answered.

“You really aren’t going to tell me what’s on your mind?” His leather cowboy boots made noise as we walked toward the boxes.

“Nope.”

He laughed. “Always got to be hiding something, don’t you?”

My lips curved upward. He had no idea.

11

HARPER

I lifted my cold-water bottle to my forehead to give me a small respite from the hot sun beating down. Everyone was sweating, and since the boxes from yesterday were complete, fully stocked and loaded into trucks, the boys were anxious to get out and cooled off. It was as if a huge wave of flames had flown up from Arizona and settled into the tiny town. I was semi-used to this, but Colorado natives were not.

Everyone grabbed their suits and ran to the pond.

The only downfall of becoming friends with these boys was they would no longer let me sit in my bubble. Michael and Landon practically dragged me with them everywhere they went.

“I did not bring a swimsuit, boys,” I said assuredly as they pushed me toward the dock.

“Who cares? Just go with your clothes on. We do it all the time!” Landon’s smile was like a baby doll attempting to turn manly, and it took everything in me not to squeeze his cheeks.

“Who needs a suit anyway?” Michael flirted as he lifted a towel over his pale shoulder.

He was always awkward, and everyone always made him feel bad about it. I just shook my head and threw another granola bar from my bag at him.

We reached the pond, half surrounded by trees and grass with a background of the mountaintops. The hues of blues and greens of the water were like liquid sapphire. There was a small wooden dock, a thick rope swing, and a cluster of boulders for the boys to jump off of. Despite the growing warmth, it was quite picturesque.

Several boys were already immersed, splashing around. Bobby had refused to come, claiming there was too much work to do around the ranch. Jasper came and was already dunking Darren. Johnny did backflips as Jason attempted to show him up. The only person I didn’t see was Everett. I was surprised at the disappointment settling in.

“I’m going to sit at the edge of the dock and put my feet in. You boys go ahead.”

I pushed them in front of me, and both their scrawny teenage bodies came to a halt.

“Come on, Harper. Have some fun!” Jasper’s now-annoying voice echoed through the air.

He splashed water up the side to hit us, and I recoiled, stepping back.

“Yeah, come in with us!” Michael pulled my arm again, but I stood my ground.

“Maybe in a little bit. I just want to enjoy the atmosphere first.”

My attempt at staying firm was not convincing. They all could read right through me—Harper Mason was a baby and didn’t want to go in the water.

The boys were downtrodden by my refusal, whining and even forcing out cries. Clarence even went as far as pretending to wipe under his eye, his lips puckered. I playfully tousled his hair, and he deemed it enough to cannonball into the water.

“Everett! You came!” Landon ran past me to meet up with his friend who he was on a first-name basis with—unlike me. I wasn’t bitter or anything.

Adrenaline ran through my veins as I replayed the words he’d spoken to the boys yesterday and the transformation in the atmosphere. I rehashed the shift in his eyes when he had looked at me, almost like he was remembering something, and it finally clicked in his mind. The tightening in my stomach made it impossible to breathe. I placed my hand there, trying to pull air into my lungs.

He walked right past me, and I heard a cluster of syllables under his breath, causing me to stumble. “Harper.”

Did he just say my name?

It might have sounded too matter-of-fact and an odd way to acknowledge someone for the first time in over ten years, but I was pretty sure he had just said my name. My head moved in his direction against my will.

I choked out, “Hi,” confusion swallowing me whole.

It was so quick that no one would have noticed the gesture. He tousled Landon’s hair with one hand—something we all took turns doing to the boys—and carried his guitar case in the other. Jasper and he shared a look as he walked to a broken tree trunk, set down his guitar, and began stripping off his shirt.

I jolted my face upward, feeling like I had interrupted something I shouldn’t have. I knew the eighteen-year-old version of Everett, not twenty-nine.

I should look away. Don’t look, Harper.

I did. I looked.

I was annoyed at how my breath had left my lungs. Every one of his muscles toned, every ripple of abs, everything placed exactly how it should be, and all slightly tanned by the sun, as if shirtless were a regular occurrence for him. I was a grown woman. I shouldn’t be reacting like I’d never seen a shirtless man before. No one should be allowed to look that good with that body and those mysterious whiskers—which, might I add, happened to be trimmed for the first time since I had been here— followed by a man bun high on his head. I could now see his entire tattoo wrapped around his arm—a Celtic knot—and a small one on his chest, though I could not tell its origin.

I looked up at the sky, shaking my head. This was immature and not at all how I wanted to view my brother’s best friend. I didn’t want to notice or care what he looked like, what he did, or how he interacted with Landon, Michael, and Clarence—so thoughtful and grounded. I didn’t want to acknowledge that he had been trying to avoid me and then just said my name for the first time in over ten years. The sound of my name on his lips did things inside me that I couldn’t even describe, and it took everything in me not to turn around and go lock myself upstairs with a good mind-drowning book.

“Glad you could join us.” Michael’s jab broke through my ridiculous thoughts.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you could handle all of this, but since you asked so politely…” Everett’s hands stretched out against his torso while facing the boys.

Wait, did he just crack a joke—about how hot he was?

“You’ve got nothing on me.” Michael then flexed as much as he could, and I had to cover my mouth in order not to laugh aloud.

“Whatever. This man is jacked,” Clarence chimed in, pointing to himself.

Oh, these boys and their egos. It was going to be the entertainment of my entire summer.

“Boy. You mean, boy,” Michael argued.

“Dude, you are just as much of a boy as I am. Stop being a di—” Clarence fought back.

“Language,” Jasper piped up as he pulled himself up from the water. Now standing, dripping, he eyed Clarence.

“Sorry, Jasper,” Clarence mumbled under his breath.

“Besides, we all know who wins here.” Jasper then tried not to smile as he stretched his arms in a manner that you could see all his muscles. He was large—I’d give him that.

I covered my mouth to conceal my laugh.

“Pfft,” Michael moaned.

“Last one in has to clean the stalls tonight,” Everett called before he ran full speed toward the pond, cannonballing into its bluish-green mass.

Within seconds, all the boys were running and crashing into the water, splashing it up high. I shook my head. No matter the age or stage of life, men would always have a youthfulness to them. That was something I really wanted to learn how to do.

My life hadn’t been youthful and fun. Fun always lurked on the side of danger, and I hadn’t been given the permission to give in to such ideas. Most people could tell you their favorite childhood memory, their favorite friend or toy while growing up, something that they cherished. I couldn’t. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just… was. I’d accepted it a very long time ago, but in moments such as this—seeing young kids enjoying something so menial—it was endearing.

“How long do we get to be out here?” Landon asked, as if he were doing something wrong and he was worried about getting into trouble.

“I think ’til dinner. What do you think about that?” Jasper responded, but turned his attention to me and Everett.

I sat on the rough wooden dock with my feet swaying back and forth in rhythm with the water. Everett swam several feet away, leaning his arms up against a rock.

“That’s sick!” Landon was so excited that he did a backflip off the dock.

I leaned forward, watching as boys played, splashed, jumped, and did all manner of boyish things. They were in their happy place, and there was no way to be around it and not have that rub off.

“What does that mean? I swear it’s going to take me all summer to learn this lingo,” I asked.

“It’s a term for amazing or exciting. I promise you’ll catch on quickly.” Jasper chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to get in, Harp?” he asked, paddling his way closer to me as his wet hair stuck to his head.

I knew that look in his eyes, and I was not about to see the attack come to fruition. My legs jolted up out of the water and crossed under my butt, and I held them tight with my hands.

“Don’t you dare, Jasper! You know I don’t have a suit,” I warned him, but I knew my words weren’t going to stick.

In an instant, Jasper was on one side of me, and Everett was on the other.

Where did he come from?

“You don’t need a suit to enjoy the amazingly cool water. You have to be baking in this heat,” Jasper said in retaliation.

“I’m used to it.”

“Harp.”

“I am wearing a white tank, Jasper,” I whispered loudly enough for him to hear, but the embarrassment had to be apparent on my face, and I held a hand to my warm cheek.

Without my consent, my eyes glanced at Everett, and he was trying to hide a smile. I noticed the similarity to something he would have done in the past, and it made my heart soar to recognize it.

“I’ve got a towel for when you get out. Now, stop being a baby and get in the water.” He reached to grab ahold of my ankle from underneath me, his finger catching in my anklet.

“I’m going to kill you. Go away.” I tried to kick his hand, but he was stronger than me, and Everett was now on the other side, trying to grab my hand.

“Come on. It won’t hurt you,” Everett said poking fun and that was all it took.

Those were the words that changed my mind. My face warmed at Everett’s deliberate dialogue toward me. His eyes captured mine, and there was no turning away. I had forgotten the hue of milk-chocolate brown they were, and I melted right into them.

With Everett on one side of me and Jasper on the other, they practically carried me into the water as I squirmed. I was instantly covered by coolness, though my body only felt warmth, and a laugh rose to the surface. I splashed their faces. I couldn’t believe Everett got me in. He always could get me to do things I’d never thought I would do, like sneak out of the house at night to drive with him and my brother. What next? A ten-mile hike? A horseback ride? This man was not about to change everything I had known to be safe and good for me. I’d kept myself mobile and safe for twenty-six years, and I liked it that way.

I kicked my arms and legs enough to keep myself afloat. The water was refreshing, and relief filled my joints. Doctors had said swimming was the best therapy, but every time it was mentioned, it made me feel like an eighty-year-old woman, and that was already an internal battle.

I paddled around and found the boys following me wherever I went. We swam, we talked, we splashed around and embraced the day. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about pain or how to fix anything. I just was. Being. Feeling the water. Enjoying the company. I couldn’t believe the reprieve I noticed.

The corner of my mouth moved upward.

“What are you smiling about?” Michael watched me as he swam closer to me.

“Oh, nothing.” I smiled fully and splashed his face.

These were wonderful memories I would replay for the rest of my life. If only it could always be and feel this way.

We were all sitting in a semicircle, listening to the music trickling through the strings of Everett’s guitar. I sat cross-legged, the towel wrapped under me scratching my dripping legs. The boys clustered around me as I wiped mascara from under my eyes. Limbs touched limbs, as everyone craved closeness. Everett played several cover songs, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes to the melody of the music. I was mesmerized by his fingers moving smoothly and quickly, each strum leading me to a newfound emotion.

“Is this how it always is?” I whispered to no one in particular.

“Yeah. Pretty cool, right?” Michael said.

I’d seen Everett play since we had been kids. This time was different. This time, he was singing, not just playing. His voice was low and smooth like molasses. I basked in this calm reassurance overwhelming me. It was intimate in a way where I could see pieces of who he was by the way he moved and fluctuated his voice. The emotion was apparent, and I felt everything he was feeling as he sang—happy or sad, joyful, or subdued.

“It’s very cool,” I responded. Also magical, transporting, and all-consuming, though I wouldn’t tell a teenage boy that.

“The new boys usually roll their eyes and refuse to sing, but the longer you’re here, there’s no way it can’t touch you. Everett’s playing is sick,” Clarence mumbled quietly while shrugging his shoulders, his eyes not straying from the guitar.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, and his lips curved upward.

These boys just needed to be heard. They needed love. That was what made this place different, special even. No one was left behind. Everyone had an opportunity to be seen.

Then the mood shifted with his next song, one I didn’t think many people knew. He started playing “Stop This Train” by John Mayer, and the boys began singing along with him during the chorus in slow, hushed tones. The somber mood wasn’t alarming but welcome. This song had to have meant something to them for the feeling to change so drastically. I looked around, and each boy was singing in their own way, and each portrayed a different emotion in them. Some were smiling while others were crying, unashamed. Some were stoic while their minds raced underneath the surface.

The lyrics were all about growing up, not being able to keep up with change and holding on tight to what you knew. It was about having a safe place to land, no matter what happened. Everyone could relate to it.

I was afraid to sing along, for the trance to be broken, so I sat quietly with my mouth ajar as a group of boys and several grown men used a song to connect to themselves, their pasts, and each other. Jasper put his arm around Johnny in a brotherly manner. Another boy named Roger lay at the end of Everett’s feet with his arms under his head. Even Michael, who played it cool ninety-nine percent of the time, was choking up on emotion. It was a privilege to witness such a moving scene.

I wished I could record this moment. It was one I never wanted to forget. One I wanted to replay often in my mind and remember the way it had made me feel. Broken. Sad. Understood and completely moved. Each boy’s expression mirrored my own heart. I wiped away the tear trickling down my cheek. A moment to be seen was a moment to be remembered forever.

The fumes from the fire burned my tearstained face as the colors of yellow, orange, and red danced in front of me. Everett’s voice was now louder than the others as theirs dwindled in affection for the chorus. My attention was carried solely to him. I could watch him endlessly, entranced by him and all he was.

It was humbling to see this stoic, quiet man open up so much with his music. I couldn’t lie to myself. He was incredibly handsome. There again was the unspoken pull that I did not understand, nor had I ever experienced before. Maybe it was maturity and age, maybe I wasn’t willing to see it as anything else now, but I could no longer saw him as just Everett, my brother’s best friend. Now, he was Everett Jones, the musician, the teacher, the friend, the confidant, the quiet and unsure man who was slowly working his way under my skin.

His eyes glanced up at me as he sang the last few verses. Our gazes locked into place, and it was as if the world were fading around us, the boys no longer beside us, like he and I were the only two sitting around a campfire. I rubbed at the pricking of my skin. How did one explain something they themselves didn’t fully comprehend?

For this span of time, I chose to focus on what was right in front of me, and all I saw was him.

12

HARPER

I clenched and unclenched my cramped hand as I spent time journaling. It was something that many therapists in my life had told me would help with the emotional aspects of living with my chronic illness. Sometimes people liked to focus more on the fact of constantly being in physical pain; they didn’t focus on how much that pain messed with my head and my heart.

Some days were satisfactory, when I noted all the work I had done over the years had paid off. I could do my breathing, my stretches, and yoga on occasion. I had a food log that helped me stay on track with nutrition. I could call and talk to my coach whenever I needed to work through something. I even learned different visualization techniques that could help me in what was called a flare-up. That was when the pain got so strong and spread throughout the body, making it hard to walk or move. It could last up to a day, a week, or three, depending on the amount of inflammation in the joints.

Other days were dreadful. So lousy that it was hard to swallow the thought of living another day. It was only the pain talking, but the heaviness of it all weighed down on me. It could feel like I was drowning in the emotions of the unknown and wished more than anything to take a gasp of air. Those days were hard and all about resilience. More than anything, it made it impossible to feel as if I was worthy of any love and acceptance when I was worthlessly lying the days away. The days when I was so swept up in misery that I was no longer enjoyable to be around.

I altered my position on the hard metal bench as my legs cramped up.

“Hey, Martha. You need any help?” I asked as I saw Martha walk toward me in her adorable high-waisted jeans, her silver hair flowing in the breeze.

She was one of a kind with a lifetime of knowledge from hard experiences, and if anyone understood the suffering of my heart—or any heart—it was her.

I had succumbed to the fact that I would always be alone. Most of the time, I found joy in the knowledge that there were many wonderful things I could spend my days doing with others. I loved being a teacher. I loved watching the light bulb go on in my students’ little youthful eyes when they grasped a concept. I couldn’t wait to become an aunt and spoil my nieces and nephews. Maybe I would even adopt a child myself one day. I stayed active in my church, and that community had been a healing balm on many occasions. And I read an exorbitant amount. It was an escape, a way for me to live differently than I did. It had saved me mentally several times.

“Hello, dear. You enjoy your time writing. I have plenty to keep me occupied till lunch, and you need some time to yourself,” Martha’s kind voice reassured me.

Occasionally, I’d have moments where the dreams and desires for more crept in—like reliving an unwanted nightmare over and over again, haunting my every move. Something I desired so badly that I could scream, but knew wasn’t possible. The desire to be loved, the desire to have my own family one day—those desires might never go away. I would have dreams at night of being held so tightly by a man with no face, who would love me unconditionally and lie with me on those bad days. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It would give me a glimmer of hope when I dared not to hope.

Then I would wake up—tears streaming down my face, a hollowness inside me where the hope had been.

For now, I would continue to hide away in my stories, where anything was possible. It was safe. It was comfortable. It was less excruciating.

“Only if you’re sure. Just holler when you’re ready for me.” I scrunched my nose in a silly manner as she patted my arm lovingly. “Love you.”

“Love you too, darling.” She kissed the air toward me as she went behind the house to gather more eggs from the chickens.

After I’d arrived at Marlow’s Boys Ranch a few weeks ago, the desire for my dreams had deepened. I saw these boys struggling to find joy and peace in their lives, something that I knew I had more of than not. I hoped more than anything to take them all home with me and take care of them. To love them in the way they deserved to be loved, to be noticed. It seemed unrealistic that I could already love a bunch of teenagers in such a short amount of time. If I could somehow help them to see their worth and help them to realize they were lovable, maybe I could see it in myself and hold on to it for more than a fleeting moment.

As I continued to write, a weight lifted off my shoulders. I tended to internalize more than I knew. The words flowed, the emotions rose to the surface, and I let it all out. I wrote about each boy and their known struggles, each interaction with my brother and even Everett, and it all flew out faster than I could write it.

It seemed like hours of getting everything off my chest, writing of all my experiences so far on the ranch. I was relieved and ready to face the new day. I stretched my neck and twisted back and forth, searching for everyone’s whereabouts.

I meandered around the front of the house, and I heard the plucking of notes off in the distance. Class must be in session.

I worked my way over to the garage, and this time, the doors were open. I could eavesdrop without sneaking. I peeked inside as Everett was explaining to a new boy named Thomas all about the notes of the guitar. He was a shy, quiet boy who had come about the same time I did. He didn’t speak much, and it was hard to get anything out of him. Who better to relate to than the master of non-speaking?

I propped myself up against the outside of the wall, crossing my legs and leaning back. Maybe at some point, I would be invited in. For now, I would just have to enjoy the music from afar. I stood still and listened as best I could.

“All right, Thomas. Now, it’s your turn. Here.”

It went quiet.

“Place this right there and hold your hand here. Nice. Now… try a chord.”

Thomas struck several strings together, making a semi-decent sound.

“Very good. Now, another.”

He did as he had been asked, and the next one sounded much smoother.

“I suck,” Thomas whined.

“You don’t suck. Trust me. This is your first time playing an instrument. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Neither will your playing,” Everett reassured.

I smiled at his reference, but I could envision Thomas rolling his eyes.

Thomas attempted a few more minutes of playing and then let out a grunt. “This is hopeless!” he yelled out.

There was silence for several beats.

“Thomas, what is something you enjoy doing?” Everett asked.

I could imagine Thomas shrugging his shoulders the same way all the boys did when they didn’t want to answer a question.

“There has to be something.”

Another lull in the conversation.

“That’s fine. We have all day. I will sit here till you answer my question.”

Nice tactic. He knew Thomas would not want to sit all day, and quickly, he answered.

“Basketball.”

“Good choice. How long have you been playing basketball?” he asked.

I was invested. I eased myself into a sitting position, waiting for a response.

“Since I was six.”

“Considering that you are now thirteen, that means you’ve been playing for seven years.” Everett paused. “What is your favorite part of the sport? Why do you enjoy it so much?”

“The competition. The sweat. The game,” Thomas mumbled, as if the answer were simply known to everyone.

“Right. You play for the love of it. All aspects of it.”

I pictured Thomas nodding his head.

“Who taught you how to play?”

More reserve. He must have struck a chord in the boy.

“My dad,” he whispered. I could barely hear it.

I’d learned by now that Everett knew when not to cross a line until each boy was ready. He always knew the right way to go about each situation.

“Do you know who taught me how to play the guitar?” Everett asked, leading to another lull. “My dad.”

That was information I had not been privy to. I hadn’t known his dad had any good qualities. It took several minutes before the conversation continued. They were having a breakthrough. Finding common ground was Everett’s way.

“Do you have a theme song?” he asked.

“A what?” Thomas questioned.

“You know … a song you have playing every time you practice or even go out onto the court.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Thomas muttered.

“Cross my heart.”

“‘Eye of the Tiger.’ It… it was my dad’s favorite.”

“Well, you’re in luck, my friend, because it just so happens that I know how to play it.” Everett smirked.

Of course he knew how. He knew every song imaginable that these boys loved. From country to pop to hard rock.

Within seconds, the tune was playing, and he strummed each chord and paused just like the song did. The man was talented.

After the song was finished, Thomas applauded. “Can you teach me how?” There was a glimmer of hope in his voice.

“Absolutely.” Everett’s voice was confident. “But you have to learn the basics first. Like your chords.”

“Fine,” Thomas whined. “As long as it leads to that.”

“It will. Now, here, try the next chord. I want you to focus on feeling while you play,” Everett said, and Thomas seemed to listen.

And just like that, Everett had found a way to connect and get exactly what needed to happen.

Once again, I sat in awe at this man’s ability to find connection with such a variety of personalities. I wordlessly applauded him.

It was similar to how I managed my students, except on a much more complicated scale, seeing how these were teen boys with lots of baggage and my kids were only six. You learn quickly regardless that it was vital to come at things from a different angle.

A different angle.

My thoughts were broken when I heard a shuffle nearby. I jumped upward at full speed to see Jasper nearing me with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Are you… spying on Everett?” he asked as his flexed arms moved to his back pockets. He was ready to scold me as sarcastically as he could.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I brushed off my backside from the dirt off the ground. “I happen to enjoy planting myself on the dirt. It’s… grounding, being one with the earth.”

“Mmhmm.” He knew I was lying. “Learn anything new?”

“Besides the fact that Everett knows what he’s doing, Thomas is growing quickly in the right direction, the dirt here stains, and there is a rancid smell coming from behind the garage, nope,” I said uncomfortably.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I cared that Jasper had found me here. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide. Anyone could pass and listen to Everett’s teaching with the doors wide open. I wasn’t willing to share the information that this man intrigued me, and I desired to be around him as much as possible.

“Does any of that surprise you?” He beamed.

I shook my head. Everett had a good head on his shoulders and had been a hard worker as long as I’d known him. My understanding of what the instructors did with these boys all day when I showed up was nonexistent, and now, I was beginning to see the extensive time spent in the waiting. Waiting for them to come around, no matter how long it took.

“You were right,” I mumbled.

“I was what?” He held his hand over his ear, as if he couldn’t hear me.

“I’m not repeating it.”

He shoved me with his arm, and I shoved him back, trying to hide a smile.

“I’m going to be right about a lot of things while you’re here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” He winked and put his arm around me. “Now, why don’t you stop being so shy and actually go inside the studio instead of sitting out here every day?” He pushed me in the direction of the open door. “You used to talk to Everett all the time, Harp. Even when I wasn’t in the room.”

“I don’t sit here every day,” I protested but knew his words rang true.

How does he know how much we talked?

“Yeah, and I don’t brush my teeth,” he retorted and continued to push me through the opening, his arm tightly around my shoulders.

I didn’t desire to go in. What would I even say?

“Stop it, Jasper,” I mumbled, though he ignored me.

Once we were inside, Jasper pushed me farther. “Hey, Ev, do you think you could spare some time for another student?”

I turned my head, hurting my neck in the process, and glared at my brother, who was trying his best to hide a smirk. Everett had just finished with Thomas and was cleaning up his instrument with his back to us.

“Depends… is that student male and between the ages of twelve and eighteen?” Everett’s smooth voice would forever cause my skin to prickle.

“Not quite, but she’s very eager to learn.”

He winked at me again, and my hands moved to fists.

“Sorry, Jasper. I don’t work with women,” Everett protested. “Especially one related to my boss. That would be bad for business. What if she ended up hating me and needed to call HR?” He turned slightly, still holding his instrument.

“We don’t have HR,” Jasper said.

“Exactly.”

“Fair point. It would be easy to fall under your spell, and you’d end up getting reported for harassment instead.”

“Another fair point,” Everett retorted.

“Women can’t resist a man with a guitar.” Jasper took a deep breath and let it out dramatically, as if it was the most exhausting thing in the world.

“What are you even talking about?” I finally piped in, and Jasper smiled. He was enjoying my being uncomfortable, and it seemed Everett was too. “Sorry, Everett. I don’t need a music therapist, and I wasn’t trying to push that on you. Jasper just…” I said to him, trying to avoid his eye contact, but it seemed impossible with that smolder.

“Everyone needs music therapy,” he argued back.

Was that supposed to be a positive response?

“Though I might agree, that wasn’t the purpose for my coming here,” I rebutted.

“Oh?” Jasper questioned and eyed me suspiciously, his stance complacent.

Everett awaited a response.

“I figured I would… offer my services,” I choked out.

“I mean, you are my sister, so it’s kind of gross.” Jasper retorted as he winked, knowing it would infuriate me.

Everett turned to face me, folding his arms across his chest in anticipation. He was half smiling under that beard of his, as if he was enjoying every moment.

“Not that kind of service!” I smacked Jasper’s arm playfully. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” I was fumbling over my words, the heat rising to my face. “I meant if you ever needed any… tuning, cleaning, prepping, I’m around, and I would be happy to help.” I pulled words out of nowhere. I couldn’t tell him I had been listening in on his entire session.

Both men didn’t move. Jasper’s gleam in his eyes told me he wasn’t done teasing, and Everett looked like the world sat on his shoulders. The silence was deafening, and my breathing was restricted in my chest.

“I appreciate that,” he said before he turned around and focused on something behind him.

Once again, I was left unsure of what he had meant. Was he being sarcastic? Did he actually appreciate it, or was he just saying it to get rid of me? I didn’t want to stay to find out, as embarrassment flooded through me like a broken dam.

“Wonderful. Well, I’d best be off.” I patted my hands on my thighs awkwardly and bolted through the door.

As I walked away, I heard fragments left of their conversation.

“Are you serious?” I heard Everett say before I ran faster to the house, pushing back the need to cry. I was humiliated and refused to listen to anything more.

Sometimes, having an older brother was like a mosquito that wouldn’t die. I knew he meant well, but his execution was terrible, and Everett left me feeling like my presence was a nuisance.

Like I had said before, I was better off alone.

13

EVERETT

“Please explain to me why you are trying so hard to push Harper away,” Jasper insisted.

He was a pain in the ass, and I couldn’t help but want to slug him sometimes.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” I knew I sounded harsh, but I needed him to back off.

“That’s only something a douche would say, Everett. It’s me. Don’t push me away, man. It’s getting old,” he said, sitting down on the couch, slouching against the plush blue backing, shoulders covering the cushions, while ignoring my plea to leave.

As always, he thought he knew better. Maybe he did, though I would never let him think that.

I huffed, scratching my jaw. My eyes boring into the wall, I inhaled and exhaled before responding. I’d never lied to him, and I wasn’t about to start. “I can’t handle it.”

There was a beat of silence as his gaze continued to lock on mine.

“Handle what?” Jasper asked with a look of understanding.

“I can’t handle the memories. I’ve pushed down a lot since I left Arizona, and I can’t deal with everything coming to the surface again.” I raked my hands through my long hair, pieces falling down around my shoulders.

“And my sister is the one who brings these to the surface?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And why is that exactly?” he questioned like he already knew the answer.

I had to acknowledge the truth in myself.

I didn’t want to answer. How did I explain to my best friend that I had been drawn to his little sister for as long as I could remember? That she reminded me of the things I loved, things I loved about my mom even though my mom could barely stand on her own two feet. Things that brought a smile to my face, like anytime she would encourage me to do something I loved. I kept writing songs because of her. She’d told me at thirteen years old how my music inspired her, and I knew that high was what I desired to chase and to make a difference in someone’s life with music.

How did I tell him that every time I came to hang out with him, I wanted to hang out with her, too, and it never made any sense to me? That being around their family meant everything to me.

But thinking of her meant thinking of then. And thinking of then just made me think of him. The man who had almost broken me—in more ways than one. The man I would spend a lifetime trying to forget and not be anything like.

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t willing to go that deep. I twisted off the caps of two cold soda bottles and handed one to Jasper, collapsing into the seat next to him, sinking into its comfort.

“I won’t push it. I know how to work with a stubborn boy.” Jasper chuckled while I rolled my eyes.

“Sometimes, I wonder how we are still friends.” I rolled my neck, trying to will away his existence. When I was overcome with emotions, I didn’t like being around people. I couldn’t cope. I needed space to process, and now was not the time to even think about processing anything with Jasper hovering over me.

“Oh, don’t get all sappy on me now.” Jasper held a hand over his heart. “Love you too, man.”

I grunted in response and took a swig of my drink.

“How’s it going with Thomas?” he asked.

I appreciated the subject change.

“It was a rough start, but I think we broke through something today. We will see if it sticks by his next session.”

“The man who works wonders.” He sighed dramatically.

Does he take anything seriously in our friendship?

“Do you know anything about his dad?” I said, ignoring him.

“I don’t. But he didn’t sign the papers for his rights to be here. Only his mom. So, I don’t think he’s in the picture.”

I wondered if the dad had left—or worse, if he was no longer alive. Thomas’s reaction to things had told me he had a fondness for him.

“Are any of the boys here coming from a two-parent household?”

“Not many. Have you heard from yours?” Jasper was on point with his nosy inquiring tonight.

“Not in five years. I plan to keep it that way.”

“But your mom is okay?”

He was always kind to ask about her. She loved him, too, even though she didn’t see him much. I tried to call every week and let her know I was thinking of her even if it was hard to converse with her. Her mind hadn’t quite been the same after my dad left.

“Yeah. She’s okay now.” Now that she is no longer being beaten daily.

“That’s great, man. I always really liked her.”

He took a swig, and I followed suit. I liked her too. I wished I could have done more to help her in her life, although sometimes, people didn’t want the help they desperately needed.

“Well, Harper will only be here another few weeks. Do you think you can handle things until then? You got on with her well growing up. I know she looked up to you like a brother too.”

His words stabbed like a dagger. A brother.

The harshness of my mind made me sick to my stomach. The truth was that I didn’t want to view Harper as a little sister. The deeper question was, why not?

“I can, and I will.”

Harper

THEN

I was running. Not very fast, mind you, because my legs could barely get me through each step. I couldn’t breathe. My heart sank deep into the pit of my stomach as it thumped wildly, and bile rose to my throat. My head spun, and my limbs throbbed like a hammer happily inflicting its strength on each part of my body. I wanted to collapse, but my willpower would not let me. The déjà vu of this moment was not lost on me. Only a few more steps, and I would be to the tree house. My refuge. My safe place. Somewhere I could let out all my emotions. A place I could allow myself to just be and feel. No judgment, no excuses.

I’d left a note on Jasper’s bed to meet me there as soon as he got home from school, but I didn’t know if he would see it. We often spent time monopolizing each other’s fears and worries. We would sneak out the back of the garage with candy and soda—we were never allowed to have them—and devour to our hearts’ content. He would let me lie down on a bed of pillows next to him while he told me stories to distract my mind from the pain. I would stare out the makeshift window and watch the wind rustle through the trees, making the most soothing sound, unlike the sound of my heartbeat.

Each step felt like an hour in a race I couldn’t finish. Why couldn’t my body do what I wanted it to, just once? Get up this tree, dang it! I might be almost fifteen, but I still couldn’t get myself to swear. Add that to the tally marks of things to make fun of me over. Everyone else did.

Last week, Shannon had purposefully stuck her leg out for me to trip over in class, and it caused several kids to laugh at me and tell me I didn’t even know how to walk.

“Need another wheelchair?” one of them had cried out, and I had run to the bathroom to cry through the rest of third period.

I reached the base of the large oak tree. Luckily, it wasn’t insanely tall, only about eight feet off the ground, but to pull myself up the steps was an entire feat in itself.

“Jasper, if you are up there, please come down and help me!” My voice was more of a plea than I’d intended it to be.

I heard a shuffle, and relief spread throughout my chest like warm liquid coating me inside out. A hand reached out and over, ready to help lift me.

“Oh, thank goodness.”

I grabbed his maturing hand and allowed his strength, of which I had none of, to pull me up. My head hung low, and my body was minutes from giving up all its strength. He grabbed me from under my armpits, as if I weighed nothing, and thrust me over the top ledge, and my body sank into the splintered floorboards of the tree house.

“I got you.”

My head catapulted up while I stared, dumbfounded, into familiar eyes. “You’re not Jasper.” My voice quaked as I recoiled.

“No, I’m not,” he said, sinking back onto his legs.

“What are you doing here, Everett?” I tried to question him while pushing myself up and realized my strength was now gone. I laid my weight on my forearms.

“I saw your note.”

Always being so evasive, he pulled me up onto my knees. I waited patiently for more.

“I was grabbing a book for school in Jasper’s room. I texted him about your note, and he told me that you need help and to meet you up here. He’s stuck tutoring some jackass who can barely pass math class but needs to stay on the football team.”

I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. I struggled to sit up again. “I can do it.” As if my word had the power to will me upward, I kept repeating it. Nothing happened.

“I don’t think you can.” His voice was gentle. I hoped it was from concern and not from pity. “Here.” He lifted me into his arms and carried me to my makeshift bed, full of outdated, stuffed pillows and old quilts from my great-aunt.

“I feel so stupid.” My chest heaved.

“Why?”

“Because… because I can’t always do things for myself. Because I have to rely on other people sometimes. Because I was expecting my brother, who is used to all this. Because I should be able to deal with it. And some days, I do okay. While others, like today…”

“You can’t.” He finished my sentence, moving to a sitting position, holding his knees up. He wore his gray hoodie—something he often did, as if it were his own comfort blanket he could hide behind.

I shook my head. The weight of everything I’d said out loud to someone other than my brother—the only other person who knew the inside of my head—was like all my textbooks sitting on top of me.

“What happened today?” He looked easy and relaxed. He didn’t act like he was going anywhere anytime soon, and my tightened chest eased in return.

“What do you mean?” I tried to shove off the weight of his question.

“I’ve been around you a long time, Harper. I think I know when you’re upset.”

I waited in silence, trying to determine how to answer. I could lie and tell him it was just my body hurting. That was something he knew. Something that was true. Something he had seen for years, being a part of our family. But I could also tell him the truth. The truth could hurt. The truth always had repercussions of its own.

“There’s a school dance.” My words fumbled out of my mouth.

“Winter formal. Yes, I’ve heard of it,” he said while rolling his eyes.

“If you’re going to be a smarty, I won’t share.” My eyebrows scrunched in unison as I glared at his sarcasm.

“Sorry, not the time.” His gaze softened once more. He put his hand on my arm to reassure me to keep going.

“Well, it’s at the ice-skating rink.”

He looked at me in question.

“I’m not allowed to ice skate. If I fall and bruise or crack a bone, the percentage of me fusing goes up astronomically.”

He nodded in understanding. “So, just go and cheer on the sidelines.” He shrugged, as if it were of no consequence.

“It’s a girl ask guy thing, Everett.”

“So?”

“I’ve already asked two guys. I’m not going.” I fluttered my eyes to stop any moisture from getting through and fumbled with my fingers.

“They said no?”

“Empathetically.” I lowered my gaze to the floor. “It took me two months to gain the courage to ask. Jared said he would rather go with Charly, who’s prettier, and Ben said—”

“What did he say?”

“He said no way would he go to a dance with a girl who couldn’t ice-skate, let alone walk half the time,” I whispered. “And then he said, ‘Why don’t you go wobble on home to your brother?’” I squeezed my eyes shut.

“That pompous jackass.” He looked over at me and saw a tear escape my closed eyes. “Sorry.”

“I just want to forget about it.” I held my pillow, and as the soft fibers pressed against me, my muscles throbbed with hurt, anger, and pain.

Time ticked away, and I questioned if I should say something to make him leave, but he seemed intent on staying. He sat next to me on the floor, immovable as a rock, legs crossed and arms draped over them, just staring out the window as the night sounds began to trickle through the opening. The crickets created a melody to the mood permeating around us.

“You know, Harper, there are not many girls out there like you.”

No duh, Sherlock.

Many girls could actually go dancing with a boy who liked them at school.

“It has nothing to do with your ailments or insecurities. What you can or can’t do. It has everything to do with who you are. You care deeply about people and their feelings, even when they have wronged you. Instead of worrying about makeup and crap like that, you spend your time with your brother and his annoying friend. Idiot boys are not going to appreciate that. Appreciate you.”

His gaze punctured mine, and for a moment, I was overcome with warmth and understanding, almost like coming home.

Is this what it feels like to be noticed? Is he finally noticing me for me?

It took me back to two years ago—when he had stopped me in the hallway near my bedroom and noticed me for the first time, outside of being Jasper’s sister. I might have been in a wheelchair, though he acted as if it were insignificant. It was the first compliment he had ever given me. I would never forget it. I replayed it repeatedly in my mind. We only had a few more instances like that over the time span of our young friendship, but it was very minimal. Each one was more meaningful than the last.

The desire to talk all night long with him, embracing his kindness in just being with me, was stronger than ever. I wanted him to talk more, to tell me I was pretty, that I was worth taking to the dance even if I didn’t ice skate, that someone would want me someday. He didn’t. He didn’t speak anymore, but he sat with me in silence for the trickling hours. He didn’t leave me to be alone. And even after Jasper came and I updated him on what had happened and he plotted to destroy those boys, Everett still sat beside me on the ground, his back and knees probably cramped up. For the second time in my life, it seemed I had an actual friend, no matter how fleeting that might be.

The following week at school, Jared wouldn’t look me in the eyes passing me in the hallway, and Ben had his wheels stolen from his car. He had to borrow his mom’s minivan to go to the dance. And somehow, that made it all a little bit easier.

14

HARPER

“Tell me something.” Jasper’s voice echoed as he brushed the mane of the beautiful brown horse in front of him. “How many books have you actually read?”

I sat on the edge of the fence, book in hand, while he prepped for another lesson. He had watched me read book after book my entire life, and not once had he asked me that.

Reading was my way of escaping, as it was for many people. I’d struggled with my reading levels during the harder pain-filled years that seemed to never end before I found the right medicine and the right diet. When I was thirteen, my mom decided to try something—anything—to help me get my levels up. I just didn’t want to read. She handed me my first ever romance novel. It was clean, mind you, and very mild for my age. It fueled a passion in me that never stopped. Reading had become my best subject, and the older I had gotten, the more my love for books and new worlds had called to me, the more my type of story had expanded. Now I read just about anything and soaked it all up like a sponge, never to be extracted.

“I lost track after my two thousand mark a couple of years ago.” I said it as if it was of little consequence, not looking up from the pages.

I knew he would be surprised by that, but I also knew he was a little preoccupied at the moment and might have just been making conversation.

“Two thousand? You’ve gotta be joking,” Michael chimed in from behind me, sauntering forward in his black leather jacket, even though it was a warm day. It was enough to make me stop reading and face him.

I could ignore etiquette with my brother, but not with these boys. I was growing too fond of them, and I needed them to know they had my full attention when they talked.

“Good morning to you, too.” I smiled, pulling out a fist bump for him to return. “And I’m quite serious.”

The glint in his eyes was enough to know he was up to something.

“Wow. That’s just mind-blowing,” he replied. “And so boring.” He swung his leg over the fence to sit on top with me.

It would be hard for a seventeen-year-old boy to comprehend reading that much. Especially if he loathed books. But hearing it was comical, like straight out of a teen movie.

“I like books.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“That part is obvious.” Clarence was not far behind, along with a couple of others. He had his stoic face on today. “You always have a book with you.” He leaned up against the fence next to me and ripped the book out of my hands, staring at it in confusion.

I worried about getting scrutinized, but once I remembered I was the adult here, it was fleeting. I yanked the book from him.

“Rebecca? Who names a book after a girl?” He scrunched his nose, as if it were the most absurd thing he had ever heard. “And a weird one at that.”

“Have you ever even read a book, Clarence?” Michael snubbed with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up,” he retaliated, both brows curved inward. “We all know you only read magazines.”

He loved to turn the tables back to Michael every single time. They argued incessantly but genuinely cared for each other when it mattered.

“Ladies, when you’re done bickering, can we begin our lesson, please?” Jasper’s voice boomed when he was serious, vibrating the senses.

It was Clarence’s turn for the first half of the lesson, and he hated it as much as the next teenager.

“I already know how to ride a horse,” Clarence grumbled, barely taking a step forward while running his hand through his hair.

“Really? I’d like to see that come into fruition, please.” Jasper stepped aside, tweaking his hat on his head, holding his arm out for Clarence to help himself.

This was bound to be a great teaching moment. Clarence puffed out his chest a bit and sauntered over to the saddle. Jumping up too quickly, not paying attention to the horse or the reins, he ended up flying and on the ground on the other side of the horse. Michael and two other boys laughed, all while Clarence mocked them.

“Boys,” Jasper yelled, and all three of them stiffened.

Clarence was in a mood today, and the horse could sense it, as well as Jasper.

“I see. Well done, Clarence. That is precisely how we mount.” Jasper’s sarcasm was strong. “Are you ready to actually listen now?”

He walked over and bent an arm to help him up. It took a minute, but Clarence gave in, and the humility softened his face a bit.

Watching these boys and their interactions continued to pull me closer. Why they say what they do, why they act the way they do—there was always an underlying reason. I minored in psychology, and the desire to observe these interactions and dissect them, grew. Clarence struggled with what was called oppositional defiant disorder, where he frequently showed irritability and didn’t like to mind authority. Being at Marlow’s, however, softened his stance for that as he learned he was always supported, even during his episodes.

“Hi, Miss Harper.” Landon’s sweet face popped up next to mine.

He was a sight I would always welcome.

“And a good morning to you, Landon.” I gave him knuckles and patted the fence next to me. “When are you going to be okay with calling me Harper?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“What’re you reading?” He looked down. Always curious, that one. “Rebecca? Sounds sorta cool. What’s it about?”

“Do you actually want to know?” I looked at him in question and moved my gaze to Michael’s, giving him a look at that face.

He just winked and turned his attention back to Clarence and the horse.

“Yes, ma’am.” Landon was chipper this morning.

“Well, it’s about a love story gone haywire.” I thought that would immediately deter him, but he kept his eyes wide in curiosity, so I kept going. “A naive young girl falls for a rich older widower, and they marry, only to find that his house is taken over by his deceased wife and their past that haunts them all.”

“So, it’s a love story? Or a mystery?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“Sounds lit. Is it really haunted?”

“No, it’s not. The housekeeper, who was obsessed with the first wife, actually creates all the drama and eventually sets the entire house on fire.”

“You’re kidding!” he gasped.

Michael turned his head, now showing interest.

“Watching an entire house in flames—that would be cool.”

“Nope. She was crazy. She thought no one should live if her mistress couldn’t,” I responded, wiping a drip of perspiration off my forehead.

“That would make a good movie,” Michael said as he moved to straddle the fence line to face me.

“The book is better.” I half smiled as he rolled his eyes.

“Wait, if you’re reading it, how do you know the ending?” Landon questioned, his curly hair bouncing up and down.

“I’ve already read it. But it’s been a while, so I wanted to reread it.”

“Reread a book? But why?” Michael whined.

“Some books are worth reliving.” I shrugged. I understood how that wouldn’t sound appealing.

“So, you don’t just read a bunch of bodice-ripping romance novels?” Everett’s voice came from behind me, catching me off-guard, like being caught with a hand in a cookie jar as a child.

He showed up at the most inopportune times. Why must he always sneak up on me like that? And how does he know about bodice-ripping romance novels?

I twisted clockwise to make eye contact with him, ignoring his jab with the gender stereotype, only to have my breath escape me. Frustration fumed throughout me that he had this newfound power over me. The way his eyes glanced over me, as he squinted like something came to mind.

“I’ll have you know, there are plenty of women in the world who do not like romance novels and don’t even read them.”

“Really? And you’re one of them?” He snorted. “I remember the books you used to hide under your bed,” he mumbled as he passed me.

My face was hot with fumes. I hated being scrutinized. “I do like romance in my novels, but that is not the only thing I read.”

He pivoted to face me again, and his eyes narrowed.

“I love a huge variety in my stories. I’m just saying, I know women who don’t.”

“Yeah, she’s reading a book right now about a fake ghost and a crazy housekeeper!” Landon piped in, glowing with pride at remembering.

“But it started as a love story,” Everett said.

How did he know that?

“Maxim wanted the best of both worlds.”

Had he overheard us talking? How did he know what I was reading?

I sat with my mouth slightly gaping open in amazement at his knowledge.

“Wait, is Maxim the guy with no wife?” Landon asked.

“Yes,” I managed quietly. “How did you—” I was rudely interrupted.

“Regardless of what the social consensus is, your book is labeled a romance,” Everett said pragmatically before sauntering off toward the stable.

He didn’t get to say something like that and walk off. He was poking me, and two could play that game.

“And what is wrong with that?” I yelled to make him stop in his tracks.

All eyes focused on the scene in front of them, ogling to see what would happen next.

“Nothing is wrong with it. It’s just… typical.”

He attempted to walk away again, but this time, I jumped down from my spot on the fence. I knew he was alluding to something about himself here. Clearly, he had something against women, or cliché romance readers. But he was not going to throw me into the mix of lovesick-puppy women. I’d already succumbed to the fact that I might never marry. No one wanted to be strapped to this for the rest of their lives. That didn’t mean he had the right to judge.

“I beg to differ,” I countered. He didn’t stop this time, so I followed him. “My best friend, Charly, she loves Charles Dickens.”

“Has romance,” he argued without slowing down. “Oh, Charly—you’re still friends with her?”

I ignored his attempt at changing the subject. “My mom loves Brandon Sanderson. It’s straight-up fantasy.”

“Prominent love story in his main series.”

His lack of attention to my face was starting to irk me—regardless of how nice he looked from behind.

“My coworker is obsessed with Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned around so fast that I almost ran directly into him. I would have had I not been paying attention, not realizing how close I was to him from behind.

“Are we going to do this all day? Because if so, I hope you know what you are prepared for. Both have characters that end up with a soft romance,” he prodded.

His stance was determined. He wanted this tension as much as I did. We were being fueled by it. Not the arguing, not even the conversation at all, but the lack of letting this intensity go. It called to me—as I was sure it did him for his response just now. Did he feel this energy as much as I did when I was around?

I could eventually come up with a great source of books without romance to prove him wrong, but somehow, I didn’t think it would make a difference. He wanted to prove a point, and it wasn’t about books. I took a moment just to stare at him. I folded my arms and just looked, chewing on my bottom lip.

He wore a black shirt today with a plaid over-shirt and jeans. It was country boy meets trendy musician with a trucker’s hat, and I craved to rip it off his head and run my fingers through—

Stop getting distracted, Harper. Focus.

He had the most intimidating brown eyes. Even with the glare and the unknown anger behind them, I could see pain. He tried hard to hide it, but I would recognize that look from anywhere. I struggled with the same look even though it was from a different source. The emotion was hard to ignore once you’d lived it.

What caused him so much pain? Was it still his dad? I thought he had left his dad years ago?

I took a deep breath in. I decided to fold. Today was not the day. He wasn’t ready.

I lifted my arms up in surrender. “All right, I cave.”

His eyes narrowed once again to me. He didn’t believe me.

“If you choose to think that women all over the world only care about fluffy romance, then that is your prerogative.” I took my stance, meeting him eye to eye.

My hands were now stuffed in my back pockets, and I saw something shift in his look.

I came real close to him and practically whispered, “But… there is more to this girl than meets the eye, my friend. I see you.” I gave him an understanding look and turned around to leave.

“You’d have to be blind not to.” His sarcasm was thick.

I knew, deep down, he didn’t mean it. He was retaliating. I could choose to be hurt, or I could choose to see it for what it was. I’d hit a trigger, and he’d wanted to let me know he didn’t feel a thing.

Our first conversation was an argument over something shallow with more words than I remembered ever having in one sitting—that was probably a stretch, but the point was known. He was pushing—hard. I itched desperately to push back and meet him head-on. That was what I would have done growing up. I didn’t wish to push away the only chance I might ever get to connect with him before I left, so I chose not to. The internal battle wasn’t worth it. So, I decided to meet him at his level.

“You’re right. I would have to be blind.” I folded my arms across my chest again, waiting for his rebuttal. I kept my seriousness even though it was intentionally teasing.

He looked up at me, eyes wide with a hint of satisfaction.

“Did you just flirt with me?”

“Maybe I did.” I took two steps closer to him. I could see the ring of dark chocolate surrounding his irises. I forgot how much I’d missed those eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”

I took another step closer. He moved his hand to rub his chest with confusion on his face.

Was he feeling okay? Had I just shocked him into a heart attack?

The heat of his breath on my skin sent a chill. He shook his head and walked off—again.

I’d hit another soft spot—I knew it as sure as I knew the sun would shine tomorrow morning. I wasn’t sad about it.

15

HARPER

“I can’t do it.” Clarence’s voice echoed across the flat field, nothing but animals grazing around us and ball-bearing bullets flying through the air.

The boys were taking turns doing some target practice in four lines, focused on different-sized targets while the leaders were off to the side.

“You can do it, dude. You got this!” Landon cheered him on from the line next to him.

Jasper and Everett watched from the sidelines with their let’s see how this transpires look on their faces.

I watched Clarence kicking at something and throwing his BB gun in the air. It was a moment of weakness—I knew that better than anyone. Emotions were strongest when we felt inadequate or unworthy. Clarence always kept his cool around me, and I had never witnessed him this upset. Maybe he wanted to be alone in his frustration, but my legs continued forward to follow my gut feeling.

I stopped a few feet away. “What can’t you do?”

He whipped around, as my presence caught him off guard. He audibly sighed, and his eyes dilated. “I can’t aim and hit the target.”

“That is a dilemma. I can see how that would be upsetting.” I took a step closer, and his defenses lowered as his shoulders dropped. “How can we fix it?”

“I don’t think I can. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and I still can’t get any closer. I suck. This is stupid.” His chest rose heavily.

I took one more step toward him and sat down on the grass, patting the space next to me. It took a minute, but he relented and sat down in a huff.

“I used to hate myself.”

“What?” he blurted, with confusion written all over his face. “You did?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“How could anyone hate you, Harper? Especially yourself. You are the coolest person. And you’re so nice. Everyone loves you.” He didn’t look at me as he fiddled with a blade of grass.

“When we don’t like ourselves or we don’t like something about our lives, it makes us feel negative feelings. Most of the time, that feeling is hatred for something. I grew up in a lot of physical pain, and a lot of people didn’t know how to understand that. I hated how God had made my body wrong and how I didn’t get to do the things I thought were normal most of my life. I thought that if I was different, that would make me likable. So, I hated myself for it.”

“I didn’t realize you hurt a lot. That sucks. I’m sorry.” He shifted in his seat. “Did you ever hate God?” he asked quietly.

I paused. “Honestly, I was lucky. I never doubted that God was there or that he loved me. I know that isn’t always the case. I had many reasons to hate him, but I didn’t. I just knew he loved me regardless.” I folded my arms. “I turned every negative emotion into more hatred for myself instead. Why couldn’t I be normal? Why did I have to be the one to have a body like this? Did I do something wrong to deserve it? Why couldn’t I be exactly how I thought I should be?”

“What did you do about it?”

“After several years of anger and self-loathing, I figured something out.”

“What was that?”

“I realized that nothing was going to change my situation. There wasn’t a miracle that would heal me or change my circumstances. I had to shift my perspective.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I couldn’t change my body. But I could change how I viewed myself.”

His eyes flickered, as if he was trying to hold on to a new thought.

“What if, instead of thinking I wasn’t special because I couldn’t move normally, I thought I was special because I was different?”

“Huh.” I knew the wheels were turning.

“You keep trying to practice over and over with the same target and with the same BB gun, right?”

“Right.”

“But you aren’t getting any better at hitting the target?”

He shook his head.

I asked, “So, what if we change how you see the target?”

He looked at me in question.

“Lie on your stomach.” I stood and took the BB gun off the ground where he had thrown it and placed it back into his hands on the ground. “Now, lean on your forearms and hold the gun against your shoulder.” I helped him place it in the right spot. “Go ahead and try to shoot it.”

He looked at me in question before putting his focus in front of him. After several beats of centering himself with the gun, he closed one eye and took in a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he pulled the trigger. The bullet landed two inches from the bull’s-eye. He looked up at me, a grin covering his entire face.

“I did it!” he yelled. Standing up, he wrapped his arms around me, picking me up off the ground. “Thank you, Harper! That was legit.”

I laughed as he placed me back on the ground. “You’re welcome, Clarence.”

Michael, Landon, and several boys got wind of what had happened and came to rally their friend up in his achievement. The boys’ smiles grew, and they chanted his name. Clarence kept looking over at me in acknowledgment, and I reciprocated. I hadn’t done it for anyone but Clarence, who needed a bit of support during a tough moment. That moment was rewarding, and I was beginning to understand more and more why Jasper loved what he did.

My sight grazed over the crowd of boys, and my sight caught the attention of the men on the sidelines. Heat warmed my cheeks as I hated the attention. I saw Jasper shaking his head with a grin, a look of satisfaction on his face. Next to him, Everett stood, stoic and unmovable, but his lips curled up, and a hint of pride was in his gaze. I shook at the tingling sensation forming and the swell of hope filling me.

Everett was playing again. Every night around the same time, I’d open my window and hear the soft strings of the guitar and the beautiful melody floating upward. It was as if the wind blew up each note toward the opening so I could absorb it clearly as it soaked into my skin, leaving me warm and comforted. Sometimes, I surrounded myself in the notes to soothe my troubled soul and my wounded body, as his music spoke to me in ways words never could.

I knew this was false, of course. The man could hardly stand to be in the same vicinity as me. But somewhere deep down, I hoped that I would get in his good graces before leaving, and maybe, just maybe, he would play a song just for me.

He worked hard and rarely ever goofed around. Without fail, come nine-thirty p.m., he’d play as the stars came out and the moonlight shone down. Looking into the sky, the vast world surrounded me, that was the experience I had every time he played.

Oftentimes, I found my thoughts wandering to his story ever since he’d left Arizona. What had made Everett who he was now? How was his mom? Was his dad in the picture anymore? Did he ever try to do something with his music? What kind of loneliness did this man experience? Living here with a bunch of boys, playing acoustic music every night, alone—that didn’t bring companionship.

I learned a few things from Michael one day when he was full of gossip. One, Everett hardly ever took time off, and when he did, no one knew where he went. Two, he told people his dad died when he was young, but I knew that wasn’t true. He’d been on his own since he was eighteen, which was the same age he was when he left us. And, three, he never, ever drank. Some Saturday nights, the men would leave for a few hours to go to the bar in town and take a break. He rarely went, and when he did, not an ounce of alcohol was consumed.

I hadn’t grown up around alcohol, so I didn’t know what to expect. I knew it had everything to do with his dad. He had been full of rage after he got wasted and would come home to take it out on his wife. The hand Everett had been dealt was not a fair one, but the fact that he had chosen to walk in a different direction was miraculous. It wasn’t easy to make choices and not let the pressure of others affect the decisions.

The more I learned of grown-up Everett, the more I wanted to know. He wasn’t at all what he seemed. When I had first arrived, I could have sworn he’d turned into a recluse who hid himself behind music and drinking and possibly ladies and hated the world. He was helpful and kind to these boys, even Martha. He worked hard and had a gift with music to heal. He never complained, and everyone at the ranch relied on him for something or another. He intrigued me. His eyes, which held depth and sorrow, called to me like a siren.

If only he didn’t hate me.

Tonight, my toes danced along to the few upbeat songs he played—nothing too overcome with joy. I recognized the songs, and I liked that we both liked the same music. That was strange for him. Perhaps he was feeling lighter tonight?

Then, the next song proved me wrong. He was back to his slow, melancholy tune.

But something new happened. He started singing the words. His voice was so low that I inched my way closer, letting my head peek over the side of the window to hear the melody ring clearer. He was singing “XO” by John Mayer—another beautiful song about a love that couldn’t last, but the couple soaked up every moment together before it ended. Every lyric sank deeper into my soul. I knew the words like I knew my name. He knew this was one of my favorite artists since high school.

I eased back into my seat. This man was a romantic whether he thought so or wanted to be. If he could ever soften his heart, he would make a woman very lucky one day. What I wouldn’t give to go down there.

Maybe I could? No, he would not welcome that. Or would he?

Before I could think of any more rational thoughts, my feet moved toward the door and then down the stairs. All the lights were off in the house, except for a soft light in the kitchen. Would anyone notice me up and sneaking around?

I paused at the bottom, realizing how late it was and how frazzled my appearance might seem. My sweatshirt hung low across my thighs with leggings hugging me close, and my hair was crazily placed on top of my head. My make up had worn off from another day in the sun, and I hadn’t even thought to look in the mirror before I headed down. I ran to the downstairs bathroom and wiped under my eyes before pinching my cheeks, and then I raked my hand through my knotted hair.

It’s not like we live in the nineteenth century… No one cares about the color of your cheeks.

I tiptoed my way outside the back door, trying to not make a sound. My socks were the only thing covering my feet, hitting the cold wood floor. I was a couple of feet away from this gorgeous creature in front of me, and I stopped, lost in the sound of his voice.

He sat on the swing, barefoot, with one leg crossed, holding up his guitar. His head leaned over as he listened to the picking of each string. My lips parted as he closed his eyes. His words whispered as the song ended.

Everett was breathtaking. I’d never thought of a man in such a way before. Men seemed all the same. Very similar in their ways, the things they liked and talked about. Everett was different.

I rocked on the balls of my feet, unsure of whether to stay. My head told me to turn around and leave, the moment of courage gone. Fleeting so quickly that I forgot it had been there to begin with. I turned to tip-toe back the way I’d come.

“Are you spying on me?” The lowness of his voice sent a chill down to my toes.

“Me? Spying? Please.” I scrunched my face, though anyone could read through my lies. “I’m sorry.” The irregular beating of my heart as I shuffled forward with nervous energy was all-consuming. “Your music, it keeps me up at night, and I wanted to hear it firsthand, and I just really love that song.”

Just stop, Harper. You have done enough damage to your self-respect for one night. Just walk away.

I waited for the chastisement. The rebuttal. Instead, I received something unexpected. No words, just movement. He scooted over on the porch swing and patted the spot next to him. I froze.

Warning signs went off in my head. He stared knowingly at me. I knew that stare. I was sure he could read my thoughts—he always could. As if to reassure me, he patted the spot once again. That was like an old Everett reaction. He was letting his guard down, just a little. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

So, I did what any sane woman would do. I sat down next to him.

The seat itself wasn’t very big, and no matter how hard I tried, our arms continued to brush up against each other. Goosebumps erupted all over me, and in that moment, I was grateful for my giant sweater covering every part of me. He wasn’t allowed to know the effect he had on me. Not now, not ever.

He turned his body to face me, and his nearness was intoxicating. He smelled of men’s aftershave, even with a smooth face. Wait, he trimmed his beard? His arms were bare, browned from the sun. I was close enough to see the thick Celtic knot band that wrapped around his arm in a tight hold. It very rarely showed, but when his sleeves were shorter, it popped out to say hello.

Without thought, I lifted my hand, and pressed my fingertips to his bicep.

“Did you get it because of your mom?” I remembered her being of Irish descent. He was always close to her, in a protective sort of way.

He paused; all movement stilled. He looked at my hand, and then at me. The intensity of his gaze made me recoil my hand, placing it back in my lap and looking at my nails. 

I’d never been allowed to like guys with tattoos, or even guys with long hair. Growing up, I had been told they were a sign of rebellion. How wrong I had been taught. Some of my favorite people in this life had them, and they always had a beautiful story to tell. I wondered what Everett’s story was. His markings could signify a number of things. Friendship, loyalty, healing, even love.

“Yes, it is.” His voice was soft, tender. We made eye contact again, and he cleared his throat. Maybe he was experiencing the same feeling I was whenever our gazes locked. “Any requests?” He mumbled, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

“Anything. I’m just soaking it up.” 

He nodded and continued fluidly moving his fingers across the strings.

Sitting here next to this man, I sat a little taller. He was everything I wasn’t. Everything I had been told to stay away from. It was like his soul called to me, and somehow, for a moment, I knew he wasn’t looking down on me. He was seeing me as an equal. With this powerful, strong, ridiculously handsome man, I raised my chin a bit higher.

The desire to break the tension of silence between us heightened, but I was worried it would ruin whatever acceptance was happening between us. He looked at me for a moment before he began another song. He didn’t sing; he just played, eyes focused on his guitar and emotions running haywire.

How could he say nothing, and yet at the same time, there was a newfound spark? Did anyone else notice this?

He was clearly fighting through something, though it wasn’t sadness or even anger. I had been privy to both of those.

Maybe curiosity? Confusion? Interest in something?

Raising my legs up and wrapping my arms tightly around them, I leaned my head forward and closed my own eyes to fully immerse myself in the moment. I forced my mind not to wander but to just be. To feel the music without thought. I relaxed my back against the seat. There was relief in my body, and I didn’t want to let that go. His playing was magical, wielding some type of calming sedative over me. This must be what the boys felt when they were with him. Like a peaceful wave of serenity filling them.

We sat under the beautiful night sky in silence without the strumming of his guitar. I didn’t know how long we sat, but I knew plenty of time had passed—the moon had shifted, and the air had turned colder. I was reluctant to leave.

I stood, thanking him for letting me intrude on his time and listen to his music.

He mumbled, “You’re welcome,” and that was that.

I managed to get back to my room without falling asleep and fell into my bed, hypnotized. What a turn of events. I’d never thought Everett, of all people, would let me be so close to him. Granted, we did not speak words to each other. There was no verbal interaction, but we shared something. I never knew of another person coming to sit with him at night. Not in the weeks of regular playing I’d witnessed. It was like a doorway being inched open to a pathway of trust again. I’d missed this.

Maybe he didn’t hate me as much as I’d thought. I smiled.

16

HARPER

“Harp?” Jasper’s voice broke through my focus into Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

Once I had finished Rebecca, I’d needed something more lighthearted, and this book felt like home to me. It was sad how much I could quote it.

I looked up at the sound of him calling me again.

“I’m coming!” I yelled back from my spot on the porch. It was midday already, and I had forgotten the time. I hadn’t even changed out of my sweatshirt from the night prior. Somehow, it was a pull to keep it on and keep the memory alive. As pathetic as that sounded.

I meandered over to the stables as Jasper exited, and his eyes narrowed as he halted me in my tracks.

“Uh, Harp? It’s two in the afternoon.” He itched a scratch right under his hat line, his eyes squinting from the sun.

“Yeah? So?” I questioned, ignoring the accusation in his tone.

“So, you’re still not dressed for the day.”

“I know.” I shrugged my shoulders.

I woke up stiff today and hadn’t felt like fighting it. Some days were winners; others were not.

“Go get dressed. I need you to run into town,” he demanded before whistling at a boy to come closer.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes, you.” He tried not to smile, hating it when I constantly answered him in questions. “We need more flowers for the front garden. It’s a project for the boys tomorrow. Martha usually runs into town to get them since she’s an expert and this is her place. But she said she was busy today and asked if you could go.”

“Oh, no problem.” I turned to leave, and he put a hand on my arm.

“I’m serious. Go change. Take a shower or something. Eat a piece of chocolate. Whatever you need. When you’re ready, my truck keys are hanging up in the lodge by the toaster.”

I looked at him expectantly, knowing he was not finished.

“I’ll text you a list of how much to get. Just follow the main road about seven miles, and it’ll lead you straight into town. The flower shop is one of the first stores on the south side. Can’t miss it.”

“You finished?” I smirked.

“Nope. I’m going to keep talking until you tell me whatever it is you’re hiding.”

It was a curse that my emotions could never be hidden, though I’d take last night’s rendezvous with Everett and his scent still lingering to my grave.

“I’m not hiding anything. There is nothing to hide.” I looked directly at him, as straight-faced as I could manage.

He whistled again, yelling after Johnny, awaiting his response while pursing his lips. “Mmhmm. I don’t believe you.”

I turned around and waved a hand behind me. “I’m off to do your bidding. Okay, bye!” I picked up speed and walked into the house and directly up the stairs.

Jasper knew I needed to jump-start my day, or I would never snap out of it. I took his advice, and I showered. I got dressed in my ripped jeans and a flannel over-shirt, and I even braided my hair. Grabbing the keys, I left the house and hopped into Jasper’s massive, lifted charcoal-gray truck. My car was about to break down at any minute and rode low to the ground while his was high up and sparkling new. Silly as it was, it gave me a boost of confidence driving it.

Ten minutes later, I reached town. Within seconds, I spotted the small buds of colors off to the right. The flowerpots covered the entirety of the little shop, and like Jasper had said, it was impossible to miss. I could smell the floral scents before opening the door.

I pulled up, walked in, and browsed through aisles of some of the most beautiful flowers, shrubs, bushes, and herbs. The colors ranged from pink and purple to white and yellow. I inhaled the scent and grabbed a range of flower buds. There was not much in the world that could calm the soul like the beauty of nature. These would be a welcome addition to the ranch.

I spent more time choosing than I needed to as a memory overcame me. I remembered the first time I had knelt in the soft soil and learned how to dig, plant, and water my first plant. It was right after I was diagnosed, and with my ability to still kneel into the dirt, I had been overcome with gratitude for mobility. Something I took for granted regularly. I wiggled my knees into the soft soil and silently pleaded to hold on to the feeling, knowing I wouldn’t always be so lucky.

My arms ached from stacking all the crates of plants in the back of the truck. I clenched and shook out my hands before I pulled out and saw a coffee shop on the opposite side of the street. A refreshing herbal tea sounded heavenly. I drove down the quarter mile and pulled into the parking lot consisting of five spots. These small towns were different than what I was used to. Everything around me in suburban Arizona had been large and convenient. Here, it was all about character versus commercial. I found it growing on me daily.

A small patio was lined with twinkling lights that wrapped around the front and side of the small building. I followed it, winding this way and that, and went inside. It was earthy, warm, and inviting, and the aromas were mouthwatering. Exposed brick lined the walls, and the barista was friendly and accommodating.

As I grabbed my drink and muffin to go and work my way outside, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Everett sitting at a tiny table toward the back entrance. He sat across from a woman I didn’t recognize, though that wasn’t difficult since I didn’t know anyone. I must have missed him on the way in with his back facing me. Now, I was in full view of him, and I panicked.

I held my drink up to my mouth, taking a sip, while holding up the to-go bag, trying to cover my face. I shuffled around the bend of the patio. I almost made it back to the truck when he called out my name.

“Harper?” He had spotted me.

I could never regain my dignity with this man always around.

I turned achingly slow, each step more painful than the last.

“Hi, Everett. Nice to see you.” I plastered a smile onto my face, avoiding eye contact with his date—or whoever she was.

His eyes locked on me, and he stood.

“Come join us.”

“I—I wouldn’t want to interrupt. And I have flowers in—” I stuttered.

“Please.” His voice was commanding but pleading.

I reluctantly whispered, “Okay,” and took a step forward as he grabbed another chair and dragged it to their table. He placed it close to his.

I had to meet the woman’s gaze and didn’t like what I saw. The woman was undeniably gorgeous, not a flaw in her skin or build. Her long, dark hair was done, beautifully curled, and her clothes were pristine, but when I met her icy-cold gaze, I retracted, wishing I hadn’t come into town. I looked at Everett, who sat unsure.

“Hi, I’m Harper Mason. I work at the ranch with Everett.” I forced my voice outward.

Kill them with kindness—that was always my motto even though she looked like she just wanted to kill me.

She smiled the most insincere smile and turned her attention back to Everett.

“Oh. A girl working on a boy’s ranch. How… modern of you.” She tried to hide her disgust.

I figured working was not the right word, but it was too late to take that back.

“And how long have you known my Everett?”

My Everett? My heart dropped.

“Um…” I choked out. I looked at him, and more pleading brightened his gaze. “We’ve actually known each other a very long time. He grew up as best friends with my brother, Jasper. We were neighbors.” I decided to try and divert the conversation. “Everett is quite spectacular with the boys at Marlow’s. They all love him.”

“Jasper is quite the cowboy. How is that handsome friend of yours?” She didn’t pause while waiting for a response. “Everett was famous for a time. Did you know that?”

She avoided anything I said. I hadn’t a clue about Everett’s years away, so this was new information.

“Yes, he and I… well, that’s a story for another time. Everett and I go way back, don’t we, darling?” Her facial expression changed instantly into one of an adoring lover.

She stroked his arm with her hand, and he clenched his hand, and his body tensed up as he removed his arm from her. I recognized his body language—screaming for relief.

He cleared his throat in response, and before he could utter a word, she continued to ramble. “It’s been about six years. Not much has changed. Except for the scruff and ridiculously long hair. You took the mountain man quite seriously, love. But you’re still the same insanely handsome man I met back in college. I can get used to it.” She smiled again and tried to grab his hand before he removed it entirely off the table.

“Isn’t he the handsomest, Harper.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and her eyes never left his, as if I wasn’t part of the conversation.

“Yes, he is.” The words were out before I had time to think. I felt his gaze on me but didn’t dare meet it.

“We were inseparable in Nashville. Everyone there misses you. You should come home.” She sighed.

Home. That word threw a wrench in my chest.

“Minus the three years since I’ve seen you, Rachel.” His voice was cold.

Clearly, they had a history—and a complicated one at that.

“I just explained why that was, babe,” she whined. “We just need to talk through it more. Everything will work out fine—you will see.”

She eyed me in a devious manner. An unfamiliar feeling rose in my chest, and all I really wanted to do was claw the woman’s eyes out.

“There is nothing left to talk about,” he retaliated.

Should I try to intervene? Except Everett hadn’t confided in me at all. He might not even want my help. I stood to leave.

“Well, it was very nice meeting you, Rachel.” I nodded my head toward her as politely as I could. “I, however, must be getting back. I have a delivery that can’t wait. Everett, would you like to help me?”

I tilted my head in the direction of the truck. Either I was being helpful in giving him an out or I was making a nuisance of myself. Either way, I refused to sit by and watch Rachel talk anymore.

“We weren’t finished with our conversation, honey. Why don’t you just run along and leave us be?” She cocked her head condescendingly.

That was it. I was not about to take her deliberate rudeness. I nodded my head with my own fake smile and turned quickly on my heel. Luckily, the truck was only a few steps away. I put my drink and bag in the same hand as I attempted to fumble for the keys, which were in my back pocket, as the anger and humiliation ran rampant.

What an insufferable human being. How Everett had known her for so long and wanted to be around her was beyond me. To be so unkind, especially to a stranger, blew my mind. The way her hand had continued to find contact with him in any way set my belly on fire.

I was almost to the truck when a hand grabbed mine, and I spun around. Everett’s face was now inches from mine, as he had pulled me in closely. His chest rubbed up against me, his nose was less than an inch from mine, and his hand didn’t release me. If anything, his hold intensified.

I completely lost my breath. His nearness shook me to my core. The fire from my belly rose to my face. My arm leading down to the hand he was holding tingled incessantly. Feeling the warmth of every finger laced in mine. His pulse was drumming in his throat, and for several minutes, he didn’t move. Lost in this moment of breathing rhythms and quickened heartbeats. He looked into my eyes once and traced down to my lips. He moved a little closer, and his nose now touched mine, his breath on my face, and for a second, I thought he would kiss me. My breath quickened once more as I stood, immovable.

He broke the hold and turned his head to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling against my skin. “Thank you,” he uttered.

He looked back to see Rachel glare and stomp away. His focus moved to my forehead, where he kissed me soft and slow before backing away. He let go of my hand and the trance that went along with it, and his hands went into his pockets as he looked down at the ground. A look I knew all too well. A piece of hair fell from his ponytail, and he moved it back behind his ear.

“I…” he said, and nothing else came out. He took a deep breath.

I stood, motionless, mouth gaping, completely entranced. My hand still tingled.

It had been four weeks of nonstop avoidance or pride in his words. Until last night, when he softened and let me sit by him. The experience mimicked when we had been younger, and he would let me just be near him. He was like another brother to me, who always made me feel safe and cared for. Now, those feelings had deepened into something much more. The safety was still there. Even with his walls up, I knew if I was ever in danger, he would come running. Some things just didn’t change.

Who he was, at his core, would not change.

Though I didn’t know about his past, I understood why he wasn’t still with her. She was nothing that he wanted or craved in his life. I might not know a lot, but I knew enough about Everett Jones to know that he would never love a shallow, coldhearted person.

A thought entered unwillingly. Could he ever love someone like me?

“She’s—she finally tracked me down, and that was uncomfortable.” He rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for coming over even though she was awful.”

I just nodded while swallowing the constant flow of nerves now raging inside me.

“Sorry… this all…”

“It’s okay,” I muttered.

He looked up again and stared. “It’s not okay that she was a bi—” He rubbed at his forehead and looked away shyly. “A jerk to you.” His voice hardened.

“No, it wasn’t. But that wasn’t your fault.”

“I just wish…”

More silence.

“What do you wish, Everett?” I pleaded.

He moved forward again, stepping into my space, and I felt the warmth radiating from his body. He lifted his hand to stroke the side of my cheek with his finger. His look was familiar and knowing. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and not let go.

Come to me, Everett. I’m here.

“Let’s get these flowers back. Everyone will be waiting on us,” he whispered, and I watched him swallow.

I blinked, and he moved away. I saw the internal battle.

I sat in the truck, twiddling my fingertips on the steering wheel for quite some time. I just needed him to talk to me, to tell me who he was now and help me understand. The desire to know him and be there for him grew daily, and if I wasn’t careful, I worried it would be a lot harder to leave than I’d initially planned.

17

EVERETT

I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, watching the hours pass as sleep eluded me. I, like a lovesick puppy, replayed every moment of today’s run-in with Harper over and over again in my mind. She was the last person I’d thought I would see today. I hadn’t once seen her come into town the several weeks she had been here.

Sitting in front of my ex, feeling unexplainable dread at having to deal with Rachel’s antics, I had been more than pleasantly surprised to see Harper walking by. Hiding as well as she could behind her tea and to-go bag, I had to stifle a laugh at her apparent need in that moment to not be seen. Too bad I ruined it. I wanted her near, and I found a perfect excuse to break the awkwardness with Rachel by inviting her over.

She didn’t have to come and help save me. She didn’t even have to be polite. Everyone knew that I didn’t deserve it with how I had treated her since she had shown up. For my own reasons, of course. But nonetheless, I’d not been as friendly as I could be. It didn’t even matter. She was poised and kind and even showed sympathy for Rachel’s bad manners. Never once had I noticed how rude Rachel was to other women. Shallow, yes. Obsessed with fame and herself, even more so. But unkind? It was another check mark on the list of why I thanked God every day we never ended up together.

Harper, on the other hand, she was everything good. Kind. Holy. Lovely.

I couldn’t contain the stirrings within me—almost kissing her, aching to touch her, and I feared her feelings were hurt. I couldn’t let her walk away, thinking Rachel and I were back together. I didn’t want her to leave, thinking I didn’t appreciate her help. I ran to her side, grabbed her arm, and turned her to face me, and with the touch of her skin under my hand, I all but lost my senses. No words came out. Only the instinct to grab her face and kiss her flooded my mind. I had to resist. For all I knew, she could hate me—and for good reason too. Then I forced myself on her? It took every ounce of strength I had in me not to.

She had practically melted in my arms, and that had almost undone me.

I crossed my arm over my forehead, scratching my chest, as I watched the fan go around and around for the millionth time. What was I supposed to do? She was only here for the summer. Then she would leave and go back to her home. There was no reason to even entertain the thought of her. This was my life. The peaceful, secluded way was what I needed. What I wanted.

I needed to focus. My job was the most important thing to me. Teaching these boys—connecting with them—it gave me life. And nothing else needed to matter.

I had to stop thinking. I’d played until my fingers felt numb. Around midnight, I came to my room. Lying here had gotten me nowhere. Now, it was two a.m., and sleep was the last thing I wanted to do. Pulling myself up, I went down toward the kitchen. A light was on over the stove, and I heard the crackling of a fire as I turned the corner.

As if she had walked out of my dreams, Harper sat, curled up next to the fireplace, book in one hand, a mug in the other. The glowing light hit her face just so and illuminated her features. Her hair was down, flowing way past her shoulders in soft waves as it tilted to the firelight. Wearing a baggy T-shirt that swallowed her and leggings that hugged every curve. Her feet were bare with one curled around the ankle of the other, toying with her anklet, her knees bent inward. It took everything in me not to walk over to her, put my arms around her, and kiss her neck, basking in the scent of her.

I put my hands in my sweatpants pockets and cleared my throat to give her a warning. Startled, she held her hand on her chest, eyes wide.

“You scared me.”

Her chest lifted in waves, and I immediately wanted to console her.

“I apologize.” I didn’t move an inch. I just stared, wondering what my next move should be. “I wasn’t sure the best way to tell you of my presence.”

She eyed me cautiously—as she should. My actions didn’t make any sense the last twenty-four hours—or the last few weeks if I was being honest with myself. It was like being locked up in a box, trapped by heavy chains. Then she reemerged in my life, and I was free to see myself again.

“It’s late.” She spoke in a reverent tone.

“It is.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She turned her attention to her mug.

“Me neither.”

“Chamomile tea supposedly helps.” She lifted a shoulder, and it was adorable. Everything she did was adorable.

“Would you like some?” Eager to help, as always, she moved to stand.

“No, I got it.” I wanted to say more, but nothing came out.

She made me so damn nervous. I felt like an imbecile, not knowing what to say to her. Somehow, I knew she understood. After all, I’d clammed up a lot as a teen. Was it because I had been just as nervous to be around her back then? I just had no words to understand what I was feeling.

She was already up, pouring water into a mug, before I gathered my thoughts. She reached toward me, holding out the steaming Christmas mug as I stepped closer, which seemed fitting for the excitement running through me. When she handed me the cup, our fingers brushed, and an electric wave went through my arm. Our eyes locked, and a blush rose to her cheeks. She recoiled her hand.

Did she feel what I was feeling too? Or did she abhor my touch? If today was any indication of her feelings, I would swear she wanted it as much as I did.

“What kinds of things keep you up at night?” Her look altered, and her gaze moved toward the window behind me while she sat back down, legs folded under her. Wrapping a blanket over her, she was ready to hear whatever I had to say.

I was silent for a minute. “My mind struggles with the quiet.” My thoughts were what wouldn’t quiet, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I can relate to that.”

She took a sip, and her heart-shaped lips covered the rim so delicately. I swallowed.

I cleared my throat again, trying to shake the ridiculous notions from my mind.

“I am trying to get used to the quiet here, but it isn’t always easy. Not even a car drives by. Just crickets. Trickling water. An owl. Very picturesque.” Her lips turned upward. “Though I appreciate listening to the background music.” She intently looked over at me and took another drink, her eyes never wavering.

I sipped mine as well, though it burned down my throat. I thought she had just complimented me.

“I’m always worried I’m keeping someone up.” I turned around, scratching my head as my curls hung everywhere from tossing and turning. Why I should care what I looked like, I wasn’t sure.

Finding a name to these feelings was clouding my addled brain. I moved to sit on the couch across from her. Leaning my forearms on my knees, I took another sip.

“It’s helped me many nights to fall asleep.” Her gaze was so intense; it was like the air surrounding us disappeared. Admiration sang its own tune in her voice. “Your music is beautiful.”

I swallowed. “Thank you,” I managed to get out in a low grumble.

“I mean it. You play with such emotion. I feel it.” She fisted her hand against her heart. “I think live music is one of my most favorite things in the world.”

Duly noted.

“I could only imagine what kind of concert you put on.”

I’d put on hundreds of them. I played for multiple nights on end. It had been thrilling and energizing at first and then not when I couldn’t keep it up. I just took another sip and watched her sitting so comfortably. My shoulders relaxed a bit.

A memory popped up in my mind of us sitting on the couch at her parents’ house, watching movies. She continuously sat on the opposite couch from me and Jasper, but her presence was always known. I’d always chalked it up to feeling so at ease at the Masons’ home; the peace and comfort there had been nothing like my house. Right now, it was the same sense of peace, mixed with the nervous energy of wanting to touch her, and my mind couldn’t wrap around all that was beginning to make sense.

I could feel the magnetic energy between her being and mine as if it were tangible. It was like two forces pushing toward each other like gravity—natural and real. It was attraction.

Had I always been attracted to her?

She had been like my little sister—until she wasn’t.

My head hurt from all the memories and realizations flashing before me.

“I appreciate that.” I blinked, not wanting the moment to end. “Though it’s not what it’s cracked up to be.”

“You didn’t enjoy playing for an audience?” she asked.

“Let’s just say I wasn’t given the opportunity I had hoped for, and in the end, that was exactly what I needed. It led me to what I truly wanted.”

“Jasper reaching out to you?”

“Yeah.” Part of me desired to tell her more while the other part wanted to stay hidden behind my walls and my safety. I ended up choosing the latter. “What keeps you up?”

She squirmed in her seat. Clearly, she was unsure if she wanted to share anything either. Somehow, we needed to find a way to coexist with one another again. “Uncontrolled circumstances keep my mind from shutting off and letting me rest.”

“That was awfully cryptic.”

“Takes one to know one.” She smiled.

I felt that, but I also knew she was trying to lighten the mood. I watched her roll her wrists—something she had done a lot growing up, when her hands hurt.

“Fair enough.” I knew her enough to know that she would talk when she was ready.

I was positive her pain had not minimized over the years. On some days, I noticed the way she would favor one leg more than the other or sat more often than not. It was one of the great mysteries of life to me—why someone as sweet and kind as her had to suffer so much, why there wasn’t a cure for her alignment, or why I couldn’t help her the way I always wanted to.

“It’s nothing you don’t already know.” She placed some hair behind her ear and stared into the fire.

I thought about that for a minute. Life was cruel sometimes. She didn’t deserve the hand she had been dealt.

“A lot of time has passed since we’ve been around each other. Everything could be different.”

“And everything could be the same,” she said softly, in a knowing way.

It was true. She still seemed the same, just more beautiful and more mature.

“I wanted to properly thank you for today.” I changed the subject, needing to shift from real life. She tilted her head, unsure of what I meant. “For coming to my rescue. With Rachel.”

“Oh.” She twitched in her seat. “Your ex?”

The questioning was laid on thick. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling.

“Yeah.”

It was my turn to inch closer to her by moving to the end of the couch. She turned in her chair, her toe touching my knee, and a jolt of warmth spread through me.

“Definitely an ex. Forever.” I took a sip.

“Mmm.” She shook her head. Hopefully, she understood what I was saying. “No need to thank me. It was clear she wants you back.”

“She wants back the person she thought I was. And that will never happen.”

“What do you mean?”

I couldn’t seem to stop my mouth. She asked, and I wanted to tell her anything she wanted to know. Even though my heart told me otherwise.

“We were very young when we were together. I was trying to find my way on my own, and she wanted someone to rely on. Those few years we were together, we morphed into different people. I couldn’t give her what she wanted, and she ended up resenting me. She also thought I would become famous and make her a someone with me. And that would never happen. So, she found other ways of getting what she wanted.” She was entirely intrigued, and for a moment, I wanted to trust her. “She slept with my manager.”

“Wow, that’s… unfortunate.”

“Tell me about it.”

She put her hand on my knee, her eyes full of concern. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, honestly. It didn’t bother me as much as I’d thought it would. Which proved to me, along with many other things, why I never really loved her. My heart was always farther away. She wanted something I couldn’t give her.”

She nodded and exhaled. “I always thought loving someone was supposed to be easy. Just by making the little choices every day to better yourself and care for the other person.” She looked at me with questioning in her eyes. “But what do I know?”

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked, overcome by the feeling of wanting to know.

“I thought so once.” She took another sip. “But I learned it wasn’t real love when it wasn’t reciprocated and was detrimental to myself.”

I let her words sit for a minute. I liked what she had to say. It perfectly described every relationship I’d ever had.

“I don’t understand how someone could not love everything about you,” I said, and a softness fell over her. “You’ve always been lovable, Harp.”

She leaned over and kissed me gingerly on the cheek. It was innocent and quick, but it trickled all the way down to my toes.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

I wished I could wrap her up in my arms and stay here till sunlight, soaking up her goodness and softness. Her presence was everything.

She jumped on the vulnerability in my stare. “What happened to you all these years?”

“Too much,” I whispered.

18

HARPER

We couldn’t see what goes on behind the closed doors of people’s homes or in their lives or their hearts. We couldn’t know how much people suffered, alone, in need of just a hug or an understanding ear.

I found myself waking up from a dream, consisting of the same person who plagued me during waking hours. Everett was suffering. I knew it as much as the sun rising each day.

Yesterday, I had seen a glimpse of that. His ex, Rachel, had brought out a sadness. I could see it in his eyes when he talked to her. She clearly never made him happy. Or if she had, then she had hurt him a lot too. The knowledge did something crazy to my insides. I wanted to slap that smug look off of her face.

But then he’d come over to thank me.

That moment I would replay repeatedly like a scratched CD player. And honestly, I didn’t mind it. I didn’t think either one of us realized the desire to gravitate closer when he stood in front of me. If I didn’t know better, I thought he would kiss me.

Last night, when he had finally sat and talked to me like we had been friends our entire lives, it had instigated my constant worries. I would be content with memories of frequent nights like that for my entire life.

My stomach churned in a good way.

I wanted to spend the day dreaming about this almost kiss, but I knew it was time to go help Martha. I swung my legs over to stand, and the discomfort gnawed at my body.

Really? Today?

I tried to stand and was defeated with frustration. It hurt. Everything hurt.

Martha reminded me regularly that those who didn’t care to see something wouldn’t, and because it’s easier to avoid seeing others’ discomforts and struggles, many go their whole lives without knowing anything about anyone else. I lived in pain daily, though not many people knew that. I chose that because I desired to bring joy to others, not take it away, to be encouraging and not be a black cloud in someone else’s storm.

Though, sometimes, I failed.

I had done my best the last few weeks to not let it get the better of me. I did my daily routines of trying to stay healthy—mind, body, and soul. But today wasn’t one of those days. I’d let my guard down, and sadness was winning. I loathed being an inconvenience to anyone. I wished to stay in bed all day, and the darkness surrounded me like an unwanted friend.

Gone were the memories of yesterday’s bliss, and in its place were only the reflections of today’s weather. Gray and gloomy.

I moved to the window, staring out. The water droplets cascaded down the glass like they were chasing each other to the windowsill, multiplying each second. I lifted my small, pale hand to the glass, feeling the cold permeate under my fingertips. It was a blustery day with dark clouds looming, the rain falling on and off all day.

In this moment, I just wished to be one of these droplets—without pain or feeling, just simply being. Floating around until I soaked deeply into the ground and nourished the earth below, being useful.

I pushed myself up out of bed and into clothes, knowing it was way past breakfast and inching closer to lunchtime. I came to the top of the stairs and faced down as each step mocked me. There were two central landings to break up the length. I could pause before the throbbing shot down my legs. Several windows lined the walkway, and it was clear that today would be a somber day. Black clouds continued to roll in, and it hadn’t stopped raining.

How fitting for my mood.

I placed my hand on the wall and took one step down and then another, each more painful than the last. Wiping a tear away, I pushed through the pain. I made my way to the kitchen and focused solely on the green smoothie waiting for me. One step at a time. The thought of eating it today made me want to alleviate the squeezing of my stomach, but I knew it would help, not magnify the pain level. Each step was like a brick being placed on top of my joints.

“Hey, Martha.”

“Hello, honey. You’re up late today. Are you doing okay?” she hummed on the other side of the counter.

“I’ll manage.” I forced a smile.

“You always do, Harper. You’re a trooper.”

“Where did all this rain come from?” I asked her while we started preparing food for lunch.

“Occasionally, we have summer storms. This one just seemed to start a bit early.” She went to stop in front of the window to admire the pitter-patter. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm.”

I chose to plead the Fifth. I couldn’t be near a window while it rained without thinking of the day I’d wanted to be lost in it. I was so young; I hadn’t even understood then, as I did now, the sadness I came to know.

Now was not the time to admit that I didn’t like rain. Not because it wasn’t beautiful or created new life. I didn’t like clouds and pressure change. It only meant one thing to me—pain.

“How long do they usually last?”

“Depends. Sometimes, just for a few hours, and sometimes, for several days. I just love it.”

Martha couldn’t stop smiling. I, on the other hand, wanted to crawl into bed with a pain pill and my favorite movie. I chose to fight it for as long as I could. So, I stood, aching instead, sipping slowly on my smoothie and cutting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Oh, honey, I forgot the weather makes your body hurt more.”

I just nodded.

“Here. Sit yourself down.”

She brought over a chair for me, and I sat and prepared the meal.

“Don’t you worry, sweetie. We will take care of you all the same,” Martha said.

Just think about the boys. You’re helping the boys, I repeated.

Luckily, I had sweet Martha to distract me. She told me all about the latest gossip in town with the mailman and the mayor’s wife. I even managed to laugh a bit.

Thirty minutes flew by before all the boys came in, soaking like wet, dripping puppies, leaving their trail everywhere. Muddy footprints marked the wood floor as they made their way to sit at the table. I worked my way around each boy, handing them their sandwiches and drinks, with their smiling faces meeting me halfway. With each step, all I could think of was the irritation building up in my legs. Some days, it was only a dull ache; other times, it was much stronger. Today, it was a hammer thrusting down onto my knees and calves. Over and over, they pounded.

Throb, throb, throb.

Handing off the last plate of food with a breath of relief, I turned to see him walking in. This man who seemed to infiltrate all my thoughts nowadays. Thoughts that should not sit anxiously in my mind unwillingly wandered back to yesterday’s interaction. The feel of his hand on my arm. Our knees brushing together. Shared conversation.

Everett worked his way around the table in large, quick strides as he placed his cell phone in his back pocket. He sat down with a thud, anger apparent all over his face.

Was it a bad phone call?

The idea gnawed at me to help him in some way. I needed something else to focus on right now. In my rash decision-making, I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.

“Hey,” I barely managed.

He turned to look at me but didn’t say a word. His eyes flickered with fire and rage. Rationally, I would have taken a step back from what seemed to be happening, look at it from a different perspective, and realize his anger came from a place of deep hurt. But that part of my mental state was now gone, lost in the swirling aches in my legs. Desperate for relief from my own pain, I continued to prod.

“How are you?” I asked and was met with silence.

As my arm still tingled, thinking of the progress we had made yesterday, and he just met me with indifference.

Maybe I was the only one who had felt a reaction to his nearness. Maybe he had only done it to make Rachel jealous. The honest conversation from the night prior was no longer at the forefront of my mind.

I took a sip of my smoothie. “I heard Josh playing today. You are working quite well with him.”

Still silent. He was fidgeting with his food but didn’t take a bite.

“I just came over here to check on you.”

“Who said I needed checking up on?” he threw back.

It should not have surprised me, but it did. I felt whiplash from his response.

He stood up and walked toward the back door. I instantly followed, shutting the door behind me.

I jumbled over my words. “No one. I just thought that—”

“That what? You could come over here and treat me like one of the boys and love your way into my heart?” he interrupted. “Think again.”

He turned his head away from me as his words cut me like daggers. The tingling turned to burning as my hands clenched.

“Well, excuse me for trying to be kind to you! How silly of me to actually try to care.”

This was number one hundred eighty-two of trying to be nice to him since my arrival, and I was sick of it. Maybe there really wasn’t a redeemable quality about him. Maybe everything I’d thought I saw in him was just my hopes coming through.

“No one asked you to do that,” he mumbled.

“What did I ever do to you? You’re like flipping whiplash!” I twisted in my stance. I ignored the entire audience through the window, watching me lose control. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to look yourself in the mirror and realize the world does not revolve around you and your incessant moods. You’re not the only person who suffers!” My voice was a bit louder than intended.

Everyone’s eyes glared through the glass as my face flushed. I then noticed the window was cracked open. I had made a scene and insulted a very important person here at the ranch. Tears welled in my eyes, and I began to leave when he grabbed my arm tightly, forcing me to look at him while tears streamed down my face.

His eyes softened. He looked as if he was about to say something but saw my tears and let go as if I had burned him. He stood aggressively and walked off. I wiped at my tears, opened the door, and moved achingly slow toward the stairs. I needed to get away. I needed relief. And I needed to be as far away from that angry, beautifully broken man as possible.

I cried with every single step, the agony shooting through my body, the hammer nailing into each bone.

I was about halfway when I heard Jasper’s voice.

“What was that about, Harp?” His steps raced upward to meet me. “I walked in on the last half of the conversation, and everyone wouldn’t stop talking about—” He saw my slow pace and stopped himself. “Harp. Harp? What’s wrong?”

He caught up to me and saw the pain in my eyes. Without another word, he picked me up and carried me the rest of the way.

Pushing open the door, he laid me down gently on my bed and forced me to lean back.

He left for a minute, and I heard water from the bath running from down the hallway. Within seconds, he was back, taking off my shoes and rubbing my feet for the circulation to kick in.

After a few minutes of holding in my cries, he went to my end table and grabbed all the medicine I would need.

“Take it.” He gently pushed his hand to me.

I shook my head frantically, wiping at my tears. He knew my fight with it, knowing how easy it was to get addicted. I didn’t want to solely rely on medicine to help me function and make the pain go away. But he pushed until I swallowed.

“Now, you will stay in bed the rest of the day. Take your bath, get a nap in, do whatever you need. I will have the remotes and food left for you when you get out.”

“Stop.” I spoke quietly, and I choked on more of my emotions. “Please stop. I can handle this.”

“Harper, don’t you know by now that I know that? I know you can take care of yourself. You’ve been doing it all your life. Sometimes, it’s okay to let others take care of you. And that is exactly what I want to do while you are here.”

I nodded as my words left me.

“Let’s get you into the bath and settled into bed. Then you can tell me what that ordeal was downstairs.”

I wanted to argue, but I had no strength left in me. I let him baby me, and I let him feel needed. That was what he needed, and I needed him to be needed. It somehow helped make up for the fact that I had made a problem with Everett when I didn’t need to. That was another problem for another day.

I took my bath and worked my way into my sweats with my hair tied messily on top of my head. Leaning back, I could finally breathe as relief overflowed. The soft blanket was draped over half of me, and Gilmore Girls was now playing in the background. The numbing feeling trickled its way through my joints, calming the cramping in my hands and knees, relaxing my body. I sighed.

As Jasper sat on the end of my bed, I reiterated the entire conversation. I knew he would want to fix it all, though I told him it wasn’t up to him. It needed to be said even though the timing and execution were terrible. We both agreed on that.

“Everett shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

“Don’t be mad at him, Jasper. I egged him on.” I played with the frayed edge of the blanket. “It was clear he was upset by someone on the phone. I should have left him alone.”

“You’re in a lot of pain, Harp. You wanted to help alleviate a little of his. There is nothing wrong with that.”

I loved Jasper, but he would always stick up for me even if I was in the wrong. Just like when I had been eleven and gotten caught sneaking a bag of chocolate chips under my bed. The doctor had just told me to stay away from sugar, as it enhanced inflammation in the body. But that was all I could think about. One night, I inched my way to the pantry, grabbed a bag, and kept it stashed in my room. When my parents found it, I got a good talking-to. Jasper intervened and stood up to them about how it was my only dose of joy for that day. They had finally let up and allowed me ten chips a day. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“It was selfish. I didn’t go into that conversation to help him like I should have.”

I twisted a piece of hair that had fallen, chewing on my bottom lip while I contemplated each word. What a mess I had made and a terrible example I was. Everyone knew not to have a serious conversation about anything when not in the right frame of mind to do so.

“I don’t even know what that means. You wouldn’t have even said hi to him, knowing he was upset, if you didn’t care about his well-being. That isn’t who you are.”

“I am not a saint, Jasper,” I mumbled as I sank down into the covers.

“Oh, don’t I know it. Your stubbornness could outgrow most of the men here.”

I threw a pillow at his head. “Ha-ha.”

“You know Everett. He tries to put on a front and act all tough, but really, he is still the same hurt boy we knew. He’s grown a lot, especially through helping the boys here, but he just needs someone to help teach him how to fully heal too.”

“I know.”

“You need to rest, and I need to go check on things downstairs.”

“Okay.” I watched him get up to leave. “Jasper?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. You really are the best brother anyone could ever ask for.”

He smiled and left the room.

Within minutes, the entire world started to blur in my vision. I needed to make right what had happened. I worried about Everett. Not that I should. He wasn’t mine to care about, but the thoughts were there, nonetheless. I just wanted to know him. I wanted him to open up to me and talk to me like a normal person. I wanted to understand why he was the way he was.

I guess some people, no matter how hard you tried, weren’t willing to let you in. And that was something I had to accept. Regardless, I shouldn’t have yelled at him.

My phone chimed on the nightstand. I saw a message from my dad, but I couldn’t focus long enough to respond. He would have to wait.

Relaxation at its finest stole away my ability to think rationally. My thoughts began leaning to more surreal states of being. I fought it, but my mind gave in and started replaying Everett’s nearness yesterday. Remembering what it had felt like to have him so near. The way my entire body had reacted to his touch. A smile covered my face, and before I could think of another full thought, I drifted into oblivion.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound woke me from my slumber. I rubbed my eyes and noticed it was dark outside. How long had I been sleeping? According to the present state of the sky, at least four or five hours had passed. I never slept during the day.

I moved to sit up, but the heaviness of exhaustion overtook me.

The knock came again at the door. I figured it was Jasper, making sure I was decent, though I wasn’t entirely coherent enough to wonder why he wouldn’t just walk in, knowing where he had left me.

“Yes?” I said groggily to the door.

I leaned my head back, opening and closing my eyes, trying to gain full coherence. The light from my TV glaring at me.

The door cracked open, and when no one came inside, I lifted my head and stared in confusion. Was I delirious? I must still be dreaming. There, hiding on the other side of the door, was Everett. As I lived and breathed. My heart immediately dropped to my stomach, and I covered half my face with my blanket.

19

EVERETT

I had hurt her. I had made her cry. Me. The one who refused to get close to anyone so that emotions wouldn’t rule me and make someone else feel less than. I’d refused to do anything to become like the man I hated.

And here I was, doing the exact same thing.

I slammed the door so hard, and I started running. I wasn’t a runner, but I needed an outlet. Growing up, I used to hammer grapefruit that had fallen off a tree in my backyard. Every time I couldn’t express how I was feeling to anyone, I would go outside and spend hours smashing those fruits and obliterating any traces. It helped.

Here, I wanted to have a better outlet, where I wasn’t just punching or hitting something. That made me feel too much like him. So I ran. At least five miles of reduced air and sore calves before I stopped and collapsed on the ground, hands hanging over my bent knees.

Reacting out of anger or fear instead of taking a breath and working through it was a terrible example to the boys. Not controlling my emotions—letting anger win—and inflicting pain on someone else was the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do.

My mind had gone dark when I answered the phone. The betrayal I felt with my mom and the hatred I felt with my dad—it was just too much. All Harper wanted was to check in, show kindness, and be the person she was. I had stomped on that.

This was why I could never have a relationship with someone. I didn’t know how to control deep feelings where my past was concerned. No one deserved that.

Working on this ranch, with these boys, helped to navigate a lot of those big feelings by focusing on them. Having a plan and an end goal in their sessions, focusing on someone else, that was the easy part for me. Feeling what I needed to feel and working through it, that was the hard part. I didn’t want to evoke negative emotions in anyone I cared about in my life. Ever.

It was better to keep people at arm’s length.

Did I walk away? It seemed to be the easiest choice, letting her think I was an ass and having her choose to avoid me the rest of her stay. But was that who I was? Could I honestly feel right about that, knowing who she was? Deep down, I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that it wasn’t the right decision.

I had overheard a conversation with her before I answered the call. She was worried about the storms rolling in. The pressure change made her joints hurt more. I had known that for a long time. I wanted to go over and take her in my arms and tell her I would take care of her, come hell or high water. I wanted her to know she didn’t have to suffer alone. But how could I do that when I kept running from my feelings every time she was near?

“Don’t you worry, sweetie. We will take care of you all the same,” Martha had said to her.

They had a friendship many people would envy. I was one of those people. I used to hear about their summer trips to Colorado with Martha while I was stuck at home with the life I didn’t want or hadn’t asked for. Jasper would return, hearts in his eyes and big dreams of creating what he had in this boy’s ranch. No one else knew of it, of course, for it was a dream of a teenage boy. I, for one, was proud of the person he was and that he had made his dreams come true.

What were my dreams?

Aside from my music and these boys, I found such contentment with this quiet life I had cultivated here at Marlow’s, and I didn’t think I needed much more. Until Harper had shown up, reminding me how lonely I was. Companionship was always something I craved. Connection in the truest sense. The only time I had ever felt it was at the Masons’ home. I yearned to be a part of their family.

Did Harper make me think of the life I wanted but didn’t have? Or was she the one I wanted to have in my life?

Big feelings were overwhelming. Not knowing how to navigate them was even more difficult. It was like bubblegum, and the air was your emotions. The more you felt, the more air was put in, the bigger the bubble got. Eventually, it would have so much pressure from all those feelings that it would pop right into your face, leaving you with broken pieces of what used to be a soft-colored bubble.

I needed to learn to control my air.

The funny thing about therapy was you could never have too much of it. I’d “graduated” from my sessions five years ago, and here I was, still trying to figure out how to overcome an emotion. Even those that taught it to others were not always experts at it themselves. I would say that having this struggle helped me to connect more with the boys I worked with daily.

What I needed to do was make it right.

Pushing away all the excuses, I got up and meandered back to the house. I remembered to take deep, solid breaths, and the heaviness in my gut began to lift. I was met with an angry friend waiting for me, throwing me off-guard.

“You’re an ass,” Jasper grumbled, hands on his hips, hat tipped to the rim of his forehead. His eyes bored into mine.

“I know.” I hung my head low, taking slow small steps forward, sweat dripping from my brow.

“You can’t treat her, or anyone, like that, Ev,” he continued. “It’s not a good example, and it’s not how it’s done here.”

“I know.” I refused to feel defeated.

“You know she is more vulnerable when she is hurting,” he pushed.

“I know—”

“Stop pushing everyone away!” He was upset, as he had every right to be.

“I know.” The words barely came out. I knew admittance wasn’t enough, but it was a start in the right direction.

His silence was deafening. “I’m leaving to make the rounds, but you’d better make it right.”

“I will.”

He grabbed my shoulder, gave me a look of understanding—something we often shared—before walking off to the stables. Most of the boys were surrounding the fire-pit, enjoying the cooler evening air, as it was almost suppertime now.

“Boys,” I said from behind them, and they twisted and turned to meet my eyes. “I need to apologize for how I acted at lunch today. Miss Harper didn’t deserve my anger.” I cleared my throat as I swallowed my pride. “Sometimes even adults can’t control their big feelings.”

Everyone stared at me, dumbfounded at my willingness to show a weakness.

“You’re forgiven, Everett,” Landon said confidently. “Miss Harper says it’s never okay to hurt someone, and say it’s okay, but it’s okay to forgive them, and we all forgive you.”

He lessened the gap between us and wrapped his arms around me. It took everything in me not to let a tear fall.

“Bro, you’re still one of the best guys I know,” Michael said. Chewing on a piece of straw with his knee up, he smiled at me. “But I will have to fight you if you make her cry again. We all kind of love her, you know.”

“He isn’t your equal, Mike.” Clarence was annoyed, per usual. He punched him in the arm. “Even though he’s right. You’re the best teacher, Everett.” His voice quavered a bit as he looked down to hide his own emotion coming to the surface.

“I don’t deserve it, but I appreciate your forgiveness,” I said, humbled by the experience. “And I know you have all grown fond of her. She’s a special woman.”

“We know,” they all said in unison.

Several of the other boys took the time to come over and ask me questions on what I had done to cool off and how I was able to admit I had done something wrong when their parents had never once apologized for giving them a black eye in their life. It turned into another hour, leading into a late dinner that helped me and the boys bond more.

I didn’t have an appetite, and when all the boys went in to eat, I walked over to apologize to Martha, kissing her cheek tenderly. She swatted my arm and told me how much she loved me, and I almost felt better.

I took the stairs two at a time and worked my way in front of Harper’s door.

I inhaled slowly and purposefully.

I knocked lightly three times, knowing full well I could be ignored, and asked, “Can I come in?”

20

HARPER

“Sure.” My voice quaked.

I never understood how to be suave. It didn’t come naturally. I was never considered sexy or appealing in that way to any man I had ever encountered. I just was the cute, sweet girl that made a man feel special, though it wasn’t enough to really drive them to pursue me. Or me them. Being stuck in a situation like this, I was at a loss as to what to do. A man—a very attractive and alluring man—was wondering if he could come inside my bedroom as I lay motionless under the covers, unsure of how to respond.

What did one say to such a question? Yes, do please come in, sir, or, Only if you dare, you sexy piece of heaven. Neither seemed the right fit for the situation.

I peeked over the blanket, feeling the softness under my fingers as I managed a, “Sure,” from my mouth.

I wished the bed comforter would swallow me whole. I was surprised Everett had even heard me. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, taking with it the hall light and surrendering him to the darkness with me. My heartbeat picked up.

What did I do now? If only I could think straight, but my mind was still foggy.

He took a step farther, and the color from the moon shone on his face. I placed my hands on either side of me and attempted to lift myself up onto my elbows, feeling the weight bearing down.

“Don’t get up on my account.”

His hand reached out, as if to stop me, and I relaxed against my pillow. His whole demeanor had changed as he stood, hair windblown and untamed, clothes wrinkled, and a softness in his gaze. The calmness he now enveloped invited me to do the same.

“I won’t stay long.”

He didn’t move. If only I knew what he was thinking.

I muttered, “I’m sorry,” at the exact time he said it too.

I half smiled. He rubbed a hand across his face.

“Go ahead,” I mumbled.

“I— was an asshole.”

His confession caught me off-guard.

“Yes, you were.” The words ran out of my mouth as I squared my shoulders.

“You were just trying to be kind.”

“Yes, I was,” I stated.

“And you didn’t deserve that treatment from me.” He raked his hand through his hair and sighed out a puff of air.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he growled as I smiled. It seemed to be the most accurate feeling.

“I accept your apology,” I said. “But only if you accept mine.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he argued.

“On the contrary. I egged you on. I knew from the moment you sat down that you weren’t in the mood to talk. I knew you wanted to be left alone, and still I pushed.”

He looked directly at me with confusion on his face. “How did you know that?”

“You’re not as indifferent as you think you are.”

More silence stood between us, potent and almost tangible.

His gaze burned into mine, and within a split moment, the air shifted. What had been just sweet and innocent became much warmer and confusing. His look sent a chill down my spine.

Why was he looking at me like that? My appearance was anything but desirable, and I knew that. My nerves got the better of me, and my mouth ran away from me again.

“You forget that I had years of practice watching you,” I whispered. “You try to hide behind your hair, your moods, and your aloofness, but you are only kidding yourself,” I practically whispered as I slowed each word down.

He took another step forward.

“Everyone here knows how genuine you are even if you try to push people away.”

Now, he was standing right above me. I sat up straight, as if to show I wasn’t cowering. Confusion yet determination took over his features as he continued to inch closer.

“You know nothing about me anymore,” he growled.

“Or so you think.”

He leaned forward, placing an arm on each side of me, holding himself up on his knuckles so that his face was inches from mine. I knew he was trying to intimidate me, but all it did was make me more confident in my speech and more flustered by his nearness.

“And what do you think you know?”

“Enough.” I stared him down as my insides quivered.

“Mmm, is that so?” he whispered close to my face. His eyes shifted again.

“Quite.” I took a breath. “Your eyes tell it all.”

I watched as each muscle tightened and released in his jaw and shoulders. He remained close and didn’t move.

“Even if you try to hide behind all that hair.”

There was a beat of silence.

“And what do my eyes tell?”

The muscles in my face relaxed. “They tell of pain.”

His eyes ignited with something I couldn’t quite decipher. He was like a brand-new book to me. New, mysterious, enticing. And yet somehow familiar, like I had read pieces of its story before. Each page turned to another layer of his soul, and I was ready to devour each and every chapter until I figured out the ending. And I would never stop until I got my ending.

“I could say the same for you.” His words weren’t entirely on edge. There lay understanding mixed with apprehension under his tone.

“Maybe we actually have something in common.”

I dared to look up into his eyes again and found a fire I hadn’t expected. They burned into mine, trying to convey an emotion, a feeling. Something to grasp—and I desperately desired to grasp it. To hold it tightly to me and refuse to let it go. This was an altering moment for us. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew it would not be the same from here on out. I, in turn, tried to convey a similar emotion of understanding.

“My mom called,” he confessed.

This was what I had been waiting for. I was ready for him to confide in me.

I tilted my head in question. “I thought you and your mom were on good terms?”

“We are, most of the time. It had to do with my dad.”

Understanding filled me. The last I had heard about him was right before Everett and his mom left Arizona. I never knew what had happened after that.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“It’s been almost six years. I was hoping I would never face him again.” His brow softened. “She told me that he was a changed man and that she really thought I would benefit from seeing him again and hearing him out, and she—told him where I was. Even though I have tried hard for my presence here to remain unknown.”

I placed my hand on his arm, trying to infuse as much strength in him as I could.

“Is that why you asked Jasper not to tell anyone, even me?”

He nodded his head.

“I can understand that. After so much hurt and betrayal, it’s hard to know who to trust.”

“The only other time I have ever been so mad at my mom was the last time he beat her, and she still wouldn’t leave. I was so fed up. I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I…”

I waited expectantly for when he was ready to continue.

“I started hitting him back, trying to make him stop. My mom finally left the house, sobbing, and ran.”

“That’s when she showed up at our house.” I placed a fist on my forehead.

“Yeah. Thank the good Lord above that your dad called the cops. It was the turning point for both of us.”

“I can’t even imagine living in so much fear and hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Harp. I—I haven’t yelled like that in years. I felt such remorse and hatred in myself at that moment. I took a four-hour run, and I don’t run. Ever.” The humor was nowhere to be found. The guilt permeated his face.

I placed a hand on his jaw. “I don’t understand the pain you carry. But I want to.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly while leaning closer to me from where he sat. His face inched toward mine, and I unconsciously lifted my head to meet his. The warmth of his breath on my face was minty and refreshing. I immediately felt self-conscious of my sleepless state, my chalky and dehydrated mouth, and my wild, slept-on hair. I covered my face with my hand, overcome with so many emotions, and a tear escaped me.

“What’s the matter?” he practically whispered, but didn’t move away from me. He was cemented in his spot. Arms immovable on each side of me, practically pinning my back to the bed frame. “I’ve always hated seeing you cry.”

His confession was my undoing.

“Thank you for finally being honest with me.”

“Thank you for being patient even though I kept trying so hard to push you and anyone from my past away from me.”

“What a sight I must look like right now.” My hand didn’t move from my face.

He lifted an arm up, grasping my hand in his, and pulled it away slowly. He then sat down on the edge of the bed, the weight shifted the mattress, and he used his empty hand to raise my chin to meet his eyes. There was no hiding the emotions evident there.

“She is loveliness itself,” he muttered quietly. So quiet that I almost missed the fact that he had just quoted Jane Austen to my very face.

I bit my lip, holding back from his kindness, willing me into more tears. He pulled lightly on my chin to move me closer, our lips almost touching.

“Don’t ever question your beauty again.”

I knew he was about to kiss me. I surged up my confidence and took in a deep breath. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to kiss him until his lips were within centimeters of mine, and it took everything in me not to jump forward and kiss him first. He lingered for a moment, and the anticipation caused my insides to twist and turn as goose bumps erupted all the way down to my toes. Each second felt like an hour, and each moment that passed made me hungrier for his touch.

Right as he was about to seal our lips, a knock on the door jolted me to reality, instantly breaking the spell.

Jasper.

My heart pounded with anxiety, as I knew how confusing the situation would look. My eyes widened, and I tried to take a breath. Everett stood quickly and placed his hands in his pockets.

“Come in!” I screamed unintentionally.

Within seconds, the door flew open, and Jasper went from worried to confused.

“Harp, are you—what’s Everett doing in here?”

I could tell his brotherly instincts were kicking in, and it was not looking positively in Everett’s favor.

Before he could respond, I blurted out, “He came here to apologize. And don’t worry. I was stuck in this position the entire time.”

As if I could possibly move right now on my own. Jasper knew that and knew how much pain I was in. His shoulders relaxed, and I felt the tension dissipate.

“And did you accept his apology?” he asked me as if he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

“Of course. As he did mine.”

“You had nothing to apologize for,” both men said in unison.

Apparently, it was a night for being in sync. Jinx, you owe me a soda.

“Will you both quit? I did. I feel better, and I believe Everett does too. Are you satisfied?” I asked mockingly.

“Yes.” Jasper smirked. He walked over and patted Everett’s shoulder, as if he were remembering how much he admired him. “You’re a good man, my friend.”

Everett just stood there, silent, unsure of how to respond. Maybe he was regretting the last several minutes he had been in my room and now felt the weight of the situation. His eyes met mine, and compassion rang through.

“If I were a good man, I would never have yelled at your sister to begin with.”

“No one is superhuman without moments of weakness. We see it every day in these boys—good-hearted boys.” Jasper walked over to me. “Just don’t do it again, or I’ll sock you in the face.”

Everett nodded in intimidation.

Jasper clasped his shoulder with his hand. “You can trust her, you know.”

“I know.” Everett spoke so confidently that goosebumps erupted on my skin.

I wanted to go back to the moment before Jasper interrupted.

“What can I get you?”

“I’m fine, Jasper. Please stop worrying over me.”

“I know, but it’s getting late, and I wanted to check in before bed.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I appreciate that.”

“Well, if you do need anything, don’t hesitate to yell out the window. Everett plays every night on the porch and is usually up half the night anyway,” Jasper told me as if it were some big surprise.

Clearly, I needed to talk to my brother more. If only he knew how much I relished it every single night since being here.

Everett and I shared a look. I loved that we had something to have a look over. Something that no one else knew. I would be lying if I said it didn’t make my heart soar.

“I’d better go. Feel better, Harper,” Everett said before making his way toward the door.

It might have been said out of sympathy, but at that moment, I didn’t care. He was being kind, and I would relish it.

“Thank you, Everett.”

He looked back once more with a knowing look in his eyes and then left.

“I’ll head out too, but don’t hesitate to call me in the night.” Jasper walked over to me. “Love you, sis.”

“Love you too. Thank you for your kindness. I’m sure I will be right as rain tomorrow.”

He nodded as he left.

I grabbed my phone and typed a response to my dad, checking in. Gratitude swelled in my chest that I had an example of how women were supposed to be treated by the men in their lives. My parents had a wonderful marriage, and their love was seen and felt by everyone who knew them.

I spent the next several hours replaying every single moment of my interaction with Everett. It felt too good to be true. As if he was having a weak moment. The first time we had shared a moment, I hadn’t known if he was just trying to make Rachel jealous. Eventually, I would ask. But this time had seemed different. It’d seemed intentional. And I really hoped that it was.

The music trickled its way through my window, and I smiled as the notes filled my soul, along with the almost kiss filling my memory. Drifting into a place I never wanted to leave.

The next morning, my pain subsided enough for me to join the boys for breakfast. Though I still looked like a ragamuffin, I was happy to be around people and a swarm of concerned boys. The “fight” was no longer a subject to discuss. Everyone wanted to know how I was feeling and if I would be joining them today on their excursions. Though they were disappointed in my lack of attendance, they all reassured me they would come check in on me throughout the day.

It filled my heart with joy to feel so loved and cared for. Especially since it was reciprocated already. Who knew I would come to a place I fought initially and end up feeling like I belonged? It was strange and comforting.

I worked my way around the table, delivering plates again, though this time, it was on a sunny, happy-filled day. The back door opened wide, and a ray of sunlight beamed into the room, all our eyes casting in that direction. In walked Everett in all his glory and manliness.

My heart dropped. To everyone’s surprise, he had cut his hair. He stood in front of us, fully clean-shaven.

21

HARPER

THEN

The knock came profusely and would not go away. I thought I was dreaming of a woodpecker, but as I came into consciousness, I realized that if we didn’t open our door, someone was about to break through unwillingly. It was the middle of the night, and we’d never received a visitor at such an hour. I bolted out of bed, threw a blanket around me, and ran across the doorway into Jasper’s room. He was already standing in his boxers, trying to find his baseball bat, panic apparent on his face.

“Who do you think it is?” My voice was quavering as I held the soft fabric tightly in front of me.

“I have no idea. But if it isn’t welcome, I’m ready.” Baseball bat in hand, he looked like a modern-day warrior, his body bulky from staying active his senior year, his stance full of determination. He took charge of his newfound confidence, walked past me with his chest puffed, not caring that he was half naked, and held out his hand to stop me. “Stay behind me.”

I nodded and followed. My dad was already in the hallway, pulling his robe around him as the knock came louder and harder. Jasper had almost a foot in height on him, and he was only seventeen. But size didn’t stop Dad from his protective nature.

“I’ll open, and you be ready. Harper, go sit with your mom in her room. Everything is going to be fine.”

I nodded again in full fight-or-flight mode, knowing full well that might not be the truth, but as usual, I obeyed and quickly worked my way onto my mom’s bed down the end of the hall.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

My mother had a knack for being kind in the gravest situations. She had grown accustomed to it with all the doctor’s appointments our family had over the years. Bad news had to be expected, though how well it was received was entirely up to us.

The door was ajar, and we heard glimpses of the conversation happening.

“What in the literal hell?” I heard my dad say.

He never swore, so I knew it wasn’t good.

“I tried to fend him off, but, Phil, he wouldn’t stop.” A female’s soft plea triggered my chest. She must be referring to Mr. Jones. “Everett is still there. He wouldn’t come with me. Please—please help us. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

Everett. My heart dropped. It was Everett’s mom, Trisha. She was always kind to me when she saw me. Everett had been a part of our family for so many years. I hardly recognized them not as family. He kept to himself a lot, and he didn’t always talk, but he was around. He knew us. And the few moments we’d ever had alone, stoic he might be, but unkind he never was. At the sound of familiar voices, I stood to go. My mother tugged my arm.

“Stay, Harper. This is not your battle.” She spoke to me with a kind warning.

I wanted to fight her off, but logistically, I knew I couldn’t. I wasn’t physically strong, and she could hold me back if she wanted to.

“He is in trouble,” I pleaded.

“Let your father and brother go. We will stay with Trisha.”

She gave me a look—one I knew well. The don’t you dare disobey me look, and I knew I was stuck. I nodded and waited impatiently for someone to come in.

“Carolyn, come quickly.” My father’s head popped through the door. He looked directly at me. “Can you come make Trisha some tea, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” I replied.

As the teapot stewed, my stomach copied. I hated being an invalid. I hated even more that I couldn’t be more useful. Here I stood, alone in the kitchen, boiling water, while chaos ensued, and there was nothing more to be done. My mind drifted to the time Everett had sat with me on the tree house floor for hours, keeping me company in silence. No one that thoughtful, no human being especially that kind, deserved to be treated poorly. And it irked me to no end. The minutes passed slowly as I watched the water turn into rippling bubbles. Movements around me faded in the background as my mom helped Trisha into the house and onto the couch, gathering things for her.

“Harper, honey, when that is finished, come and sit with us, okay?” I heard my mom speak from the front room.

“Almost ready,” I said.

The smell of peppermint was forever branded in my memory.

Taking a tray, I added extra sugar cubes in case that was desired, knowing full well no one would be sleeping any more tonight. As my gaze drifted up from the tray, I saw Trisha for the first time since she had walked in. I placed a hand on the knots forming in my stomach as tears brimmed my eyes. Her face was battered and bruised, swollen from every angle. It took everything in me not to run to her feet and hold her close.

“I know I look atrocious.” Trisha spoke quietly. “I thought things were getting better. I guess I was wrong.”

“Your—your husband did this to you?” The quivering of my lips gave away the emotion rising in my throat.

She nodded, and my mom attempted to change the subject by helping her with some tea.

Hours passed by, and the sun was beginning to shine through the peak of the mountains. I sat idly, listening to shallow conversation, attempting to keep Trisha’s mind off her pain. If anything ever could. My mind was in turmoil at the thought of Everett having to endure the same pain as his mother.

The front door creaked open, and I jumped to greet the boys. Everett stood with them, a black eye swelling up the right side of his face. My eyes pooled with tears. I ran to him and threw my arms around his waist. He was much larger than my almost sixteen years, but I was slowly growing into more of a woman each day. This was the most contact I’d ever had with him—or any boy for that matter. I couldn’t stop the wave of emotions and needed him to feel someone else cared. He slowly raised his arms around me, holding me gently, as if he was afraid of breaking me. The smell of sweat, wood, and cinnamon was all-encompassing. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay now, sis.” My brother came from behind to reassure me, as if I were scared of the situation.

What little he knew. I wasn’t a child anymore. I understood exactly what was going on, and I wasn’t scared for myself. I was scared for him. For them. For the possibility of another terrible outcome. My heart was hurting desperately. I wanted to ease their suffering, to do something. I might not know the full meaning of their pain, but I did know something of inner turmoil with physical pain. No one deserved it. And I wanted to ease it. I wanted to take the pain out of Everett and into me.

I held on tighter.

“The police came and took a report. He’s in custody for the time being. Hopefully, that will hold him off for a while.” Dad sat down by Mom. His gaze lingered on Trisha. “You are welcome to stay as long as you need. We will do everything in our power to keep him away.”

“I appreciate that, Phil. I really do.” Trisha’s eyes wavered. Her arm twitched, and she clamped her hands tightly into fists. “But I think it’s time we move on.”

“Move? What do you mean, move? We are two months away from graduation. You can’t do that to Everett!” Jasper spoke up, rage in his eyes. He paced the room.

“Jasper, you forget your place. Manners. Now,” Mom demanded softly.

Jasper looked down. “Sorry, Mrs. Jones.”

“No need to apologize.” She stood up and walked toward Everett and me.

I took another squeeze around him and let go, our eyes attached as we shared agonizing looks. We had been lost in our own moment of hope and sadness, and the moment ended.

“I can’t keep trying. I’m tired. I need to be able to breathe and not worry about what is around the corner.” Trisha cried, and Mom came to put her arms around her.

We all were at a loss as to what to say, what to do.

“I’ll help you—with whatever you need.” Mom rallied. “We all will.”

Jasper took Everett into his room to trade some things and share some memories before they said goodbye to each other. I waited anxiously in the hallway for my turn. Everett walked out, and without looking in my direction, he passed by me and out the door.

I stifled a sob as my chest caved in two.

Running toward my room, I saw something on the ground by Jasper’s door. I picked it up, knowing exactly what it was and who it belonged to, and slammed my door shut.

My parents spent the rest of that day packing up the Jones’ house and loading it into our truck. We drove them across town to her mother’s house, where they would then proceed to somewhere new. Somewhere they could be without anyone knowing and without Mr. Jones hurting them anymore. Starting off a new life together. Everett could have said no. He could have stayed and finished out his year and walked across the stage with his class. But he didn’t. He chose to stay by his mother’s side.

Jasper was never quite the same after that.

I didn’t remember how long I cried, but the tears never ceased. I cried for my brother and his loss, and for Trisha and Everett and the pain I always knew was there but was never told to me. I cried for our family’s loss, and for myself, knowing that I was losing a part of our family.

22

HARPER

I wandered off a trail onto a winding dirt path during my walk this morning. The weather was perfect—not too hot, not too cold. An all-encompassing degree of comfort, and it brought a smile to my face. Twenty minutes in, and I was feeling adventurous. Stepping over large rocks, I paved my way through the bumps and dirt that led to a spot I hadn’t yet been. Since it’s about a mile past the ranch, I applauded myself for making the trek without any aching.

Slow and steady.

I came upon a new entrance to the stream that trickled through the ranch land, and the sound was inviting. I pushed through branches catching my linen shirt and was surprised to find Clarence’s back meeting me. He was hunched, leaning over the opening of the water.

What was he doing out here when it was rotation time back home?

As I stepped closer, I could see discoloration in the water in front of him. I moved to step around him, calling him by name, but he didn’t respond. I got close enough to place a hand on his shoulder. “Clarence, are you okay?”

He jumped in response, and my line-of-sight shifted to his leg where his pant leg was rolled up. He had a pocketknife in one hand, and the water next to him matched the color on his ankle. I didn’t want to alarm him, but self-harm was not taken lightly at the ranch, and to follow protocol, I knew I had to alert the staff.

“Harper, please.” His big-brown eyes pleaded. He, too, knew the rules. He knew I had to report him. I needed a minute to regroup and catch my own breath.

“Can I sit?” I pointed to the spot next to him, and he nodded. Once I was situated, I watched him cover his leg with one hand and pull down his pant leg with the other, throwing the knife into the water.

“Wanna talk about it?” I asked.

He just shook his head.

“Is this a regular thing?”

He repeated the gesture.

I sat for a few minutes, praying for some guidance to say and do the right thing.

“Are you going to tell on me?” His voice was low and heavy as his head drooped.

“I have to say something. Unless you want to talk?”

He was silent.

“You’re not alone, Clarence. Life can beat the actual crap out of you, and there is nothing that anyone can tell you to make that better.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “But…I can tell you something about me. Maybe it’ll help you feel a little less alone. Do you want to hear it?”

He nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow. I twisted to face him and wiggled my butt to get more comfortable on the ground.

“I remember a time in my life when I couldn’t handle living the way things were. I was young, but I felt so old. My body was deteriorating. My joints were stiff, my muscles ached, and my bones throbbed all the time. Because of my age, the doctors wouldn’t give me stronger pain medicine, and the thought of putting me on an antidepressant worried my parents. So instead, I laid around, day after agonizingly long day.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. A mark forever imprinted on my conscience, reminding me I could never get that low ever again.” I retold the story that was vivid in my mind.

It was a Sunday. Ironically a sunny day; the exact opposite of how I felt. My parents had left for family dinner, along with Jasper, and I was stuck at home alone in my bed for what seemed like the millionth time. They offered to carry me to the car and take me with them, but I’d refused. The thought of bending that much to be jostled around on the dirt road, just to sit with a smile plastered on my face when I really wanted to cry, seemed like too much to bear.

My fourteen-year-old self was growing in all the places I should be and none of the places I wanted. My boobs were getting bigger, but so were my hips. Someone once told me that real men loved curves, but I had yet to meet a real man. Boys didn’t. They wanted the skinny fit girls. The cheerleaders. The dancers.

My mind was in a dark place. It had been for months. For days on end, I would do the exact same routine: I woke up wishing I hadn’t. I would turn to my nightstand and swallow a handful of pills. Once they kicked in, I barely got out of bed to go to the bathroom, grab a piece of toast, and moved back to my bed, taking anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes to accomplish the task. Occasionally I’d brush my hair or throw it up in a bun.

I grabbed my laptop, finished my online classes, and attempted to walk the perimeter of the inside of my house at some point.

I had to stay mobile, or I would fuse. It nearly brought me to tears, but I did it.

The rest of my day would end in reading a book or watching an episode of TV I’d recorded previously. The pain was always worse at night. I would take my Epsom salt bath, swallow more pills, and dread lying there uncomfortably until I fell asleep, tossing and turning all night long.

Day after endless day, I would repeat it. Today, I no longer wanted to repeat anything. I wanted it to end.

I cried out. No one heard. I prayed aloud. There was silence. I wished for something─ anything─ to help me, and my body continued to pulse like a heartbeat filled with screams.

No more. I couldn’t do it anymore.

I crawled to the pantry, and I kneeled, staring at everything around me. Plastic could suffocate. Knives could cut. The list went on a little longer until I chose my poison. Nothing would be as miserable as what I had to endure daily for the last seven years.

As tears stained my face, I lifted my hand to move towards my decision, and a voice called from behind me.

“Stop.”

I stopped. I turned behind me, and no one was there. I was home alone. The voice made no sense.

I turned my attention back to what I was doing, and the voice came again.

“Don’t do it.”

It could have been Jasper. Or Everett. Or my dad. Though that seemed impossible. The voice was familiar and comforting.

“God, is that you?” I asked in a mere whisper.

“Harper, you’re wanted. You’re needed. Don’t give up.”

A thunderbolt of emotions hit right between my rib cage, circling my heart. I fell from my knees to the floor as I inched my back behind me. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I pulled my knees in closely.

I’d never cried so hard. But they weren’t tears of sadness or joy. They were tears of hope. Tears of peace. Tears…of relief. Something I’d begged for, for years.

For the first time in my life, my pain dissipated, only for a moment. And the silence around me filled me like a waterfall in a drought place.

“For the first time in my life, I felt I could go a little farther. One more step. One more day. I was needed. I was wanted. That is what I had to tell myself over and over again. I still do.” I took a breath, focusing on the way Clarence watched me more intently. “I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t deny that someone had saved my life that day.”

I put my arm around his shoulders.

“That freakin’ sucks, Harper.” He didn’t move from his spot. “How the hell did you get through that? I mean–heck.”

I laughed at his word change. “It does suck. That didn’t magically change anything for me either. I still hurt every dang day. But I had a change of heart. Something inside me altered that day, and no matter how low I got, I continued to fight. Even if I had to talk myself through each hour, each minute. I knew there was some purpose for me.” The words spewing out of my mouth fueled the fire in my belly. “Clarence, what if that purpose was to come here and be able to help one of you feel seen? Even if it’s just one person, it can save a life to not feel alone in this world.”

He shrugged his shoulders, but I swore I saw him wipe at his eye. He finally leaned into my arm, giving me a little bit of reciprocation.

“Why did you hurt yourself?” I asked.

“It’s been a long time. A year or so since I have. Pretty much as long as I’ve been here.”

“What happened?”

“I got a call from my mom. She’s leaving my dad and taking me with her when I leave here.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want to go?”

“No,” he whispered.

“That’s understandable.”

“I don’t—I don’t want to go back. Ever.” Clarence shook his head again. “I hate her. She… she’s horrible. And I couldn’t stand the pain.” He rubbed an eye while a hand laid on his stomach.

“Has she always been unkind to you?” I asked.

He nodded once again. “I know it was wrong to hurt myself. I know I shouldn’t have. I won’t do it again. I swear it, Harper.”

Several silent beats passed before I answered.

“I believe you.” Someone had to. If I couldn’t believe him, then who would? If I wanted to believe in myself, and have someone believe in me, I had to give him a chance too, or I would be a hypocrite.

My arm around him tightened as I attempted to transfer my understanding, my love, into him.

“I think you are pretty darn special. You’re worth all that life has to offer you. Shut out the ignorance of others’ thoughts and opinions. Turn off the negative voice in your head. Tell them to screw it! You make the life you want.”

“Thanks, Harper.” He turned in and side-hugged me. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

“I’d like to think so.” Even as the words came out of me, I could feel the belief grow like a flower blooming on a spring day. I knew I belonged here, at this moment. Just as strong as that day, knowing I was supposed to live. “Can you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Anytime you feel this low again, come find me. You don’t have to sit in it alone, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” Clarence raised his gaze to mine. His brows scrunched as his eyes glistened. He dropped his shoulders and rubbed an eye with the back of his hand. He moved to stand up and paused before taking a step. “Harper? Can you not tell anyone about this convo?”

“Cross my heart.” I used my index finger and made an x over my chest. He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.

“Do yourself a favor and go talk to one of the guys. They love you, and they want to help you,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to break his trust. The more he felt seen, the less likely he was to repeat it.

“I will.” He shuffled his foot. “I’ll go talk to Jasper right now.”

“That’s really brave. I’m proud of you,” I encouraged him as I moved to stand up and finish my walk.

He turned to walk away.

“Oh, and Clarence?”

“Yeah?” He spoke over his shoulder.

“This pain will end. Someday, it won’t feel this heavy. There is someone out there who needs you, and only you.”

His lip curled upward, and he nodded once before sauntering away.

The sadness of what I saw overwhelmed me as I watched him go. What he must have endured thinking self-harming was better… my mind couldn’t conjure up.

Believing in someone else was encouraging. It was kind. Believing in yourself, that was pure bravery. I wanted to spend the rest of my life being brave and the rest of my life sharing that bravery with others. That was my new mantra.

“I couldn’t tell you.” I stood my ground as Jasper berated me for not running to him at once. “You, of all people, know that trust is earned, and once it’s broken, it’s gone forever. I wasn’t about to lose his trust.”

“I get that, but Clarence? Out of all of my boys, he’s the least likely person to do something like this. He doesn’t show any of the signs. His news must have nearly broken him.” Jasper paced his bedroom as I sat firmly on the end of his bed that night, relaying the conversation.

“I think it did. But, Jasper, he came and talked to you. He acknowledged what he did. He owned up to it. That’s half the battle. Isn’t that what you are always teaching them?”

He stopped to stand in the quiet, staring at me, hands on his hips. His chest expanded and deflated repeatedly, and I knew my brother enough to know how this was eating at him.

“I didn’t know you ever struggled with the same ideas, Harp. That hurts me to hear.”

“Don’t hurt for me. It was a long time ago and has never been an issue since. Right now, all that matters is a boy out there is hurting.” I pointed to the window that faced the barn where all the boys slept. “He doesn’t want to leave the program in a few months and go home. That is what we need to be focusing on. A solution.”

He walked over and pulled me up and wrapped his big-brotherly arms around me. “I’m sorry you suffered so much. That you still suffer so much. I wish– I wish I could take it away.”

I squeezed him back.

“I will figure out a way to help Clarence. Thanks for being there when he needed it. He won’t forget that.”

“It was honestly a pleasure, Jasp. I wanted to be there.”

The dinnertime bell chimed, and we moved to the doorway. “Let’s go get some dinner, and we will sort this all out in the morning, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I responded. “Jasper, this place is really special.”

“Don’t I know it?” He said before closing the door behind him.

23

HARPER

It was a cleaning day for the crew. Once a week, the boys were sectioned off to different parts of the ranch, and they spent hours scrubbing and mucking until everything glistened. I didn’t understand why they had to clean so hard when they were constantly surrounded by animals and outside dirt, but if anything, it taught discipline. They all complained about it initially that day, but by the end, everyone seemed very satisfied in their work.

It reminded me of days growing up with Jasper and fighting for specific chores to do around the house. I had loathed mowing the lawn, and he had hated vacuuming, so when it was our turn to do them, we always tried to convince our parents to let us switch. They hardly ever gave in. We each had to learn how to do both inside and outside chores to make ourselves “self-reliant.” It was important to them to teach us that, so we got on board. But it hadn’t meant that on chore days, when Mom and Dad left to run an errand, we wouldn’t switch. I was ashamed to admit it now. Watching these boys argue over specific tasks, it brought the memories closer to the surface, and then I laughed at myself.

“What’s so funny?” Landon caught me.

I was standing outside the barn, seeing three boys fight over a pick, and I couldn’t help it.

“Oh, nothing, Landon. I am just admiring the view.” I watched his gaze follow mine to where the boys were.

Someone would wind up hurting someone else, but I was not about to get into the middle of it.

“I bet Sam could take Ryan,” Landon whispered to me.

“Landon!” I scowled, holding back a smile. “We should never encourage fighting.” I put my hands on my hips. “But I do think you’re right.”

He looked at me in surprise and smiled. “You really are the best, Miss Harper.”

“Just Harper, Landon. I promise I won’t scold you for not using proper labels.”

He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you need any help in the big house today?” he asked while chewing on straw, waiting for the brawl to break out.

“Actually, that would be really nice for Martha and me. Do you think anyone would be willing?” I folded my arms and watched as Sam took a swing right at Ryan’s jaw.

Within seconds, Michael was breaking it up, and Jasper ran to intervene.

“If I were a betting woman, I would set my dollars on you, Landon.” I lifted my chin in the direction of the chaos.

He faced me then. “I just know things. Being young and smaller than the other boys, I can easily be overlooked. So I overhear a lot. They’ve had it out for each other since forever.”

“That’s too bad,” I mumbled. “You’re one of a kind.”

“I’ll come help inside.” He smiled, then waited for instructions. “I’ll grab a couple of boys and meet you in ten.”

“Well, thank you, Landon. I appreciate that.” I smiled at him.

I pivoted quickly to head toward the main house and ran into a hard mass.

“Whoa. I’m so sorry.” I put my arms out and grabbed ahold of Everett’s forearms to make sure I was steady.

My fingers colliding with his skin sent a jolt of electricity down my spine. I let go quickly and clenched my hands by my sides.

“No worries. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. It always made him look like the vulnerable young boy I dreamed about regularly.

He wore a form-fitting tee that accentuated his figure with dark-wash jeans and boots. It took me a few seconds to not show an obvious reaction to his new look. I could see every part of his face now. His square jaw, cleft chin, luscious and full lips, and perfectly shaped nose. He had a little freckle right above his lip, and I couldn’t help but stare. His dark hair was now nicely styled in a thick, wavy top cut instead of tightly pulled into a bun or hanging in strands around his face. It made his dark eyes stand out even more, and if I wasn’t careful, I would get lost in them. I wondered what had inspired the change. I cleared my throat.

“I’ve got to go… clean.” I pointed to the house behind him.

He just smiled, moved aside with his hand out, and let me pass. And as I walked forward, I tried to push away the knot now forming in my stomach.

He smiled.

A moment of happiness had filled his face, and I soaked it up, finally able to see every inch of it as the left side of his lip lifted a bit higher than the other.

I briskly walked into the house and shut the door behind me, catching my breath as I leaned against the back. I had to get a better handle on this, or the rest of the summer would be full-blown agony. My time was running out. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.

I can handle this. It’ll be fine. He’s just a ridiculously handsome man who works here, and once I leave, everything will go back to normal. He will stay hidden away, and I will go home to my kids. Everything will mellow out. I will forget how this feels.

Deep down, I knew that wasn’t true.

My phone chimed in my back pocket. I had a new text.

Mom: Missing you, hon. Hope you are relaxing.

I smiled as I typed back a response. I was impressed with how she had taken a step back since I’d arrived and let me have some space. It was good for the both of us to learn not to rely on each other so much. Even if it came from a good place. I hit send as I looked up to the back door opening across the room.

“Miss Harper, we’re here. I brought Clarence, Michael, and Sam with me.” Landon walked through as I was trying to still gain my composure.

I jumped forward, attempting to act chipper.

“Put us to work.”

“Great!” I responded a bit too enthusiastically.

I pulled aside Clarence and asked quietly, “How are you holding up?”

He eyed me as his shoulders relaxed. “Better,” he smiled, “Thanks, Harper.”

I gave him a wink, squeezed his shoulder. His brown eyes glistened.

I spent the next ten minutes telling each boy what I could use help with. I went over to the speaker system and turned on the radio. A popular song came on, and I could feel the beat. They were just a bunch of boys, right? It didn’t matter if I made a fool out of myself with them. I shook my hips back and forth, bouncing my head up and down. I danced and sang the words as I took the duster to each window. I twirled and moved my arms up and down, as if I were the only one in the room. Using the duster as my microphone, I turned and sang to the boys while they stood, trying not to laugh at me.

“Come on, boys! I know you feel it too!” I moved closer to dance around each of them. “There you go, Landon. Nice moves!” I dusted a window and came around Michael, who was too cool for his own good. “I know you want to, Michael.”

He started to bob his head, but would not show any interest. It was enough for me. I moved over to Clarence and Sam, and they took a bit to warm up, but eventually, all the boys were into it. We took turns belting out the lyrics to each of the songs, and it made time fly and the cleaning go by even faster. Before I knew it, almost an hour had passed, and we were still going strong.

I was finishing up my last windowsill, which was next to the main front door. I was in my zone and didn’t realize the door had opened while I was turning around with my fake microphone, and I plummeted into something hard. Grabbing tightly in front of me to balance myself so I wouldn’t fall backward, I ran into Everett. Again. His arms were now around my waist, holding me tightly. Too tightly. My waist fit perfectly in his grasp. My stomach churned. I liked his touch. His face was close to mine. He smelled of cologne, and for a moment, I forgot where I was.

“We’ve got to stop running into each other,” he mumbled under his breath for only me to hear.

I looked up into his eyes and couldn’t tell if he was being facetious or not. I held my breath. His nearness was intoxicating. Twice in one day.

“Or maybe you should watch where you’re going while twirling in front of the doorway.” He spoke a bit gruffer, but again, he didn’t seem upset. His hands didn’t move.

It took me a second before I realized the music had been turned off and all the boys were staring at us.

I pushed him away, embarrassed. Moving my hair out of my face, I took a step back. “I was not twirling. I was dancing,” I tried to argue as he just fought with a smile.

He walked up toward me again, placing a hand on my hip, and whispered in my ear, “I saw you through the window. You put on quite a show.” His breath tickled my skin.

“Right, well, I was trying to make cleaning fun for the boys.” I turned my attention to them to see their attention hadn’t left us. “Are we all good?” I spoke toward them, and they nodded their heads and smiled at me. “Wonderful. I will go grab us all some lemonade.”

I took a step forward, and Everett’s hand caught my arm, stopping me in my place. I fought the urge to go to him.

“The real reason I came in is because some of us are going out tonight. Jasper thought it would be good for you to come join us. You know, get to know everyone better. Have a night of fun.”

“Jasper wants me there, huh?” I then met his gaze head-on, and his inviting eyes danced.

“Yeah,” he answered. “And… me.”

I hid the smile forming on my face and bit my lip. “Okay.”

“So, you’ll come?”

“Yes, I’ll come.” I moved a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Good.”

“Great.”

“I’ll see you then.” He let go of my arm reluctantly.

I turned quickly on my heel to head toward the kitchen while heat rose to my face. Everett wanted me to come out with them tonight. I walked into the back storage closet, shut the door, leaned my head against it, and smiled. I should not be getting this excited about something that could be insignificant.

I picked up my cell from my back pocket and dialed Charly’s number.

“You’re alive!” Her vibrant voice echoed through the phone. It was good to hear her voice.

We were used to talking daily, and since being up here, I had made a conscious choice to not be on my phone.

“I’m sorry it’s been a bit since I called.”

“More like forever. We never go this long. I just assumed it was going well or else you’d call.”

“It’s been… eventful.” I took a breath and smiled again. It was like I was a nerdy chess club girl in high school, finally getting talked to by the star of the football team. I was never this girl.

“Girl, I can tell from your response that something is going on.” Her voice heightened. “Spill the details! I want to know all about this grown-up version of McHottie!”

“You have to first tell me how you are.”

“Are you serious? I have nothing to share. You have all the juice!”

“I won’t spill a word till you update me.”

I heard her grunt before quickly going through a checklist of updates. I’d never heard her speak so fast. Her job was keeping her busy, along with her weekend-filled dates with this new guy. The last one had ended up being a creep. She went through men the way I went through books.

“Now, spill.”

I didn’t even know where to start, so I went back to the beginning. I forgot how much had happened that she didn’t know about. All the nights of music, the interactions, not to mention how many times I had run into him. Literally. Then, there was the coffee-shop incident. I slowed down with the details of the night he had come into my room. That was a night worth mentioning.

“I just don’t know what to think. You know how I am. I have very limited experience with real men. I can’t tell if it’s all just coincidence or if maybe there is more there.”

“Honestly? It sounds like he isn’t quite sure himself yet.”

“Well, that isn’t encouraging.” My hope dissipated.

“I definitely think he is interested, or he would just keep ignoring you, like he was in the beginning. You need to see this through.”

“What does that even mean?” I didn’t know whether to be encouraged or if I should retreat.

“That means, Harper, that you are going to go tonight. You’re going to get all dressed up and feel confident. You’re going to dance and talk the night away, and you’re going to swoon the pants off of him!”

“Charly!”

“What?” She giggled. “You just being yourself is enough, Harp. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

“I just…” I paused, and silence filled the air.

“I know,” she responded. “I know it isn’t easy to think you deserve love, Harp. I know you think you should die alone and save anyone the trouble of being stuck with you and your pain for the rest of their lives, but you are wrong. Terribly wrong.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“We aren’t talking about me. We are talking about you,” she argued. “You deserve love. Just as much as anyone else does.”

“I don’t know how to believe that.”

“Baby steps. That’s how. Starting with going out tonight and enjoying every minute of it.”

I knew she was right. I knew what she had said was true. But why could I not fully grasp it? It felt like a foreign language that I was trying to decipher. I just didn’t know how.

For now, I would just focus on tonight. “Fine.”

She squealed, and I laughed, covering my face with my hand.

“Now, the important question. What are you going to wear?”

I really hoped and prayed I would not make a fool out of myself. Again.

24

EVERETT

I had almost kissed her—after being a jerk. It had been so close that I could taste it upon my lips a day later. Unfortunately, we were interrupted by Jasper. The moment had been as broken as glass shattering on the ground. It was probably a good thing. Once I made that choice, there would be no turning back. I didn’t think I was ready for that. She would melt me in every way imaginable.

I had been dreading going out with the guys tonight—until I heard Harper was coming. I took an extra-long shower, added cologne, and even dressed up a little more—something I found I’d cared more about lately. Not that it mattered because I wouldn’t talk to her anyway. I became good at just watching her from afar. Keeping my thoughts and opinions to myself and keeping her at arm’s length.

I still wanted to look okay, just in case.

“You ready?” Jasper threw me a jacket from the hook on the wall.

“Yeah.”

“You looking nice for someone special tonight?” he jested as he pulled his arms through the jacket, straightening the collar.

“Nah.” I mimicked his movements with mine.

“Can you go save a table with Johnny? I need to go separately and take Harper. In case we need two cars.” He pulled out his keys from his pocket, and they jingled in his hand.

“Sure thing.”

“I’ll call you when I get a head count.” He placed his cowboy hat on.

I just nodded my head.

“Ev?”

“Yeah?” I turned around, pausing before walking out the door.

“You deserve happiness, you know.”

I eyed him and left for the truck.

Jasper was always sharing words of advice. With everyone. He’d made it a goal in life to always show people love and acceptance. I was grateful for it, as were the boys. Though sometimes I just wanted to slug him. No matter how hard I tried to hide, he was always there to open the door and tell me to come out.

The funny thing was, I didn’t think he thought the same way about himself. No one would know it, but in quiet moments, when he’d opened up to me, I’d found he was just as insecure as the next guy. We all were bullheaded and stubborn. Powerful and strong-willed. Unbreakable even. But most of us were scared around a pretty girl, fumbling over our words and just wanting to be loved.

The rumbling of the engine underneath me was somehow soothing to my nerves. I set my phone in the passenger seat and saw it light up.

Mom.

My high spirits were dashed in an instant. My heart dropped, and I wanted to throw the phone out the window.

How dare she. After all these years of no communication, she wanted him to show up now? Now, when I was on the brink of happiness. Now, when my life was finally put together. Now, when I was finally at peace with where I was.

I pushed the silence button on the side of the phone, letting it go to voicemail. I was not about to let her sour my mood for the entire evening. No, she would have to wait. He would have to wait. If I even let him come.

My mind began to wander down memory lane. All the nights alone. All the days of hunger. The days of being forgotten, left to feel no love and affection. I knew my mom had tried her best. She kept me as safe as she could and cared for me as much as she was able. Her not having a backbone had made it harder the older I got.

The room was stuffy, like it hadn’t been aired out in a while. Clothes and wrappers trailed along the floor, and an uncommon stench came directly from the kitchen. I threw my backpack on the ground as I shut the front door behind me. Practice had run late tonight, and I came home to a mess.

“Hey, hon,” Mom called from around the corner. “I have some dinner in the microwave for you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I hollered back, still not seeing her.

I walked around the corner, kicking off my shoes and raking my hands through my hair. I started the microwave, and I heard something shatter.

“Don’t you sass me, woman. I don’t give a damn about what you did or did not do!” I heard the yelling before I saw anything.

I moved quickly to the bedroom and walked in on Mom crouching down, picking up ceramic pieces of her favorite antique lamp from Grandma, broken on the ground.

“Please, let it go. Your son is home. Lets enjoy the rest of our evening,” she said as she wiped a tear away.

“How was practice?” Dad mumbled, his back still facing me, hands on his hips.

“Fine,” I answered. I bent over to help pick up the pieces.

“Don’t you be helping your mom. This was her fault.” He grabbed the back of my neck and forced me up. “Go eat your dinner.”

I knew it wasn’t my mom’s fault. It was never her fault, but that was what he wanted us both to believe. That we somehow deserved his poor behavior.

I shoved myself away from his grip. “Don’t touch me,” I mumbled.

“What did you say, boy?” Dad said in a tone that tried to make me squirm.

“I said, don’t touch me.”

I straightened my back and looked him square in the eyes. That was the first time he ever backhanded my face. My mom yelped, and I lifted my hand to cover the sting. There was no remorse in his eyes.

“You’re a dickhead.” I spoke through my teeth.

I turned on my heel and ran toward the door. I grabbed my shoes and bag and slammed the door behind me. I spent the night at Jasper’s.

After that night, I learned a lesson. Dad had ended up taking out his frustration on my mom, blaming her for how I had been raised. I came back the next day to see her eye black and blue.

I never talked back to him again.

My phone buzzed, and I cursed, thinking it was her again. I was watching the road and picked it up to yell when I heard Jasper’s voice on the other end.

“Hey, man, we’re going to need a table for seven.”

Silence. It took me a minute to get my mind on track.

“Everett? You there?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” I puffed out air.

“You all right?”

“Yep.”

More silence.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Do I need to call BS on you and plan a HELP meeting?” Jasper sounded serious, but I wanted to laugh in his face.

A HELP meeting was what we called an emergency meeting about one of the boys, where all the workers would come together to discuss and come up with a game plan to help a specific boy through his trauma. I knew he meant it to be a friendly thing, but it made me angry.

“I have never needed to talk to anyone about my life before now, and I am not about to start.”

Another minute of silence.

“What would you say to a boy who came to us with the same response?”

“Do you want a sucker punch to the face?”

“Only if you know you’ll be getting one in return.” I could picture his smile through the phone. “And probably a kick to the gut as well.”

I growled. It was like I was a child with pent-up emotions, wanting to stomp off and pout, and the lack of control angered me. It’d been years since I had felt this way, and now, the hypocrisy of the unwieldy emotions I had, to the boys I helped manage those emotions every damn day, was laughable.

“Ev?”

“Yeah?” I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, focusing solely on the road in front of me. Trees lined my view as the sun began to set.

“Is it your mom?”

I let the breath out, tapping my finger on the wheel. “Yeah.”

“About your dad?”

“Yeah.” I shook my head. “Great news, Jasp! He’s finally changed—so she says.”

“Does she seriously believe that?” He huffed on the other end. “It doesn’t make you less of a man for needing to talk about it.”

“I know.” Somehow, it still felt like it did, especially where this was concerned.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” I heard him make a noise on the other end, as if to chastise me. “Literally nothing. She called, and then he called. I didn’t answer.”

Silence.

“Wow, man.”

I remembered the first time I had dumped my daddy problems on Jasper. We were sophomores in high school, and I couldn’t keep up the charade of why Mom disappeared for weeks while bruises were healing on her face. Jasper took me out to the desert with his dad and his firearms. After I told him everything, the lies I had to live, the times I had to be the caretaker, the nights I hid in my room with the locked door to ignore the screams as a child, he put up a target and told me to go ham. It was quite therapeutic, standing there, all the pain that had happened resurfacing, and I just exploded water jug after water jug. Even at sixteen, Jasper had had a knack for knowing how to get through to people who were broken.

It also reminded me of a time when we had first worked together and just sent home a boy who wasn’t ready to leave and was going back to a very dysfunctional environment. We desperately wanted him to stay, as did he, but being a minor, we had no say. The parents were done for whatever lame reason, and came and ripped him away from us. It hurt, not just for us guys, but also the boys who had grown to love him.

We decided then and there that we would do our best to show brotherhood within our circle. Letting the boys have a safe place to land and always leaving the door open for when they wanted to come back, if ever, to visit. We knew we couldn’t do that properly without having that camaraderie between us.

Jasper took a new worker out each night for a week to have one-on-one time, getting to know them better. When it was my night—we had had our youth together, but it had been years—what started as a night watching the game at the local bar and eating wings turned into talking till four a.m. about our past years without each other. He spent a lot of time talking about Harper, which was where I learned the most about the grown-up version of her. Seeing her into fruition was entirely different. This figment of my imagination, which held no comparison to the real woman. He loved her so much. But he also missed out on a lot of things by choosing to stay home with her, and I knew he, unintentionally, had his own hurts from that.

As for me, he learned all about my lack of a father figure; my absentminded mom, who couldn’t handle anything from the abuse; my troubled teen years, which led to me working hard to start a life for myself; and how I found my way into the music business. Then choosing to leave it, along with another broken heart.

He, being the brother figure I never had, had enveloped me in love and understanding and shown up for me.

I knew it wasn’t an accident that I’d ended up back here.

“I know. Wow is an understatement.” I scratched my jaw. The bright colors in the sky were fading away like the hope in my chest.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?” he asked.

“For my mom? Three years. For him? Not long enough.”

“Do you think he really has changed?”

Even though the words hit me in the stomach, I wondered if he might be right. “Possibly.”

“I don’t even know what I would do in your shoes.” He sounded annoyed for the both of us, and I appreciated feeling seen. “I still have the punching bag in my room; you’re welcome to use it anytime.”

That comment almost had me cracking a smile.

“Better to punch that than someone less deserving.”

Not once had the man said I love you or I’m proud of you. He never tucked me in at night. I could count on my fingers how many dinners Mom had provided that we all ate together. She had never wanted me to see him in action, and when I was still young and didn’t know better, she would lock me in my room until it was over. Sometimes, for a few hours, and sometimes, all night into the next day. Eventually, I’d learned to keep snacks under my bed and a bucket to pee in.

I didn’t blame her for how she chose to deal with her pain. She had every right to be hurt. But I did blame him for not being a dad or a good husband. Always promising things he could never follow through with. Not showing up at my games. Never picking me up from school so I had to walk home five miles on days I couldn’t catch a ride with a friend. Even as an adult, he hadn’t come to a single concert. Somehow, I’d thought if I just got big enough and had enough status, he would notice me and want to be there. I was very wrong.

“Will you see him?” Jasper asked.

“I don’t know.” I let the unknown of him wanting to contact me and the hurt that came along with it just settle in close to me, like an old friend coming back from a long visit.

I tried not to hate him. I wrote and played my way through the hurt and the pain. Now, I only felt sorry for him. And I didn’t want to leave myself open to that sort of pain again. I think that was why I didn’t blame parents for leaving their boys at the ranch. At least they did something for their kid. Even if, sometimes, it was misguided. Better to be at a place they are loved and cared for than neglected.

“I would understand if you wanted to call it a night early.”

He really was a great friend. I didn’t deserve him. Especially with all my grumpiness and for not treating his sister like I should have.

An image of Harper popped into my mind. Her smile warmed my insides, my heart did some weird beat, and the anger started to pass.

“No, I’m good, man. I need the distraction.”

She would be the perfect one. Hell, the only one.

“We will see you soon then.”

“Thanks.”

I hung up the phone and pulled into the dirt parking lot. Shifting the gear into park, I sat with my elbows on the steering wheel, holding my head.

Harper. Why did even thinking her name cause me to want to smile? I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t respond to girls like that. I kept my guard up so dang high that it was very rare anyone could come close to cracking it open. She could demolish it like a bulldozer if she wanted to. That sank deep in my gut. She could ruin me in the best way possible.

I had wanted to kiss her last night. I couldn’t fight the urge anymore. It had eaten at me all day and well into the nights since she had shown up on the doorstep, practically glowing. If only Jasper hadn’t come in…

Jasper.

I hadn’t even thought about his perspective. Would he be okay with this? It was all so confusing. I needed to find the words to go with how I felt.

One minute, I was pushing her away, and the next, I was pulled to her stronger than ever. I’d realized something the other night as I lay staring at my ceiling fan. That pull had always been there. As far as I could remember, I wanted to be near Harper. Had I been so blind that I couldn’t even see real desire at a young age? Would everything my parents had done ruin me for the rest of my life? The anger, the anguish, the beating myself up for approval.

Harper could have my heart—I was sure of it. All she had to do was take it. Was it all worth it?

Thirty minutes later, I leaned up against the wall and watched her walk through the doorway in her dress, and my knees weakened. Our eyes locked, and I swore the air left my lungs. It scared the hell out of me.

I thought she could be worth it.

25

HARPER

I didn’t know how to dance. Tonight, there would be dancing, and I would make an utter fool out of myself.

I’d grown up playing volleyball, and I loved it. I was on a club team and played my heart out. It was a highlight when I often struggled to find one. I had friends, I loved being active, and I was even made team captain. As long as I didn’t have a flare-up, I could play. When I was twelve, I had one so bad that it lasted for weeks. No school, no volleyball, no friends. Just me and my bed. Luckily, by that time, my mom had broken her no TV in the bedroom rule and allowed me the option to have some entertainment. I lived off of One Tree Hill.

I went to a specialist, and he diagnosed me with a ligament disease on top of the arthritis in my joints. The name was so long that, to this day, I still couldn’t remember it. He said that when I overexerted myself, my body would inflame, and everything would swell. So, the answer? No more volleyball. I was devastated. It had been my one connection to normalcy as a young teen, and now, it’d been ripped away from me.

This was where my lack of flexibility came into play. Because I was no longer “allowed” to overexert my body, I was no longer allowed to do strenuous activity, like lift weights or do anything that could cause more swelling and inflammation. Therefore, my ability to move fluidly became worse as I aged. People would ask me to go running or hiking, and usually, it was too tiresome for me to be able to keep up. That was also where my own skin aversion had come from. With the years of medicine pumped in my body and the lack of real teenage movement, my skin became thin and white, showing every vein, pore, and imperfection. I’d vowed to wear pants the entirety of my life, and to this day, I rarely showed more than my calves.

So, while I sat in front of the mirror, trying to decide whether to go to the Country Fire Grill tonight with all the guys, my mid-calf white dress sent me into a spiral of nerves and sadness. I considered the fact that the lighting would be dim, and adding the jean jacket helped me feel more covered.

I could just wear jeans.

Tonight, I wanted to feel appealing. Sexy even. I chose to wear my hair down, which was a rarity since coming to Marlow. I fiddled with strands as it hung in long, curly waves surrounding my face.

Smacking my lips together with lip gloss, I gave myself a pep talk.

You got this. It’s just one evening out. Be confident.

Baby steps. I needed to enjoy myself, as Charly said.

I pushed the worry aside that someone would ask me to dance, and I would be stiff as a board, not able to flip around and do crazy moves. Maybe no one would ask, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it.

As I boosted myself up, there came a knock at the door.

“You ready?” Jasper’s voice broke through as he opened the door. “Some of the guys already left to save a table.”

“Yep. Just let me grab my wallet.” I walked over to the desk. “Early, huh? Is this place that happening?”

“Well, being the only facility with booze and dancing in town within a fifty-mile radius makes it a hot commodity on the weekends.”

“Good point.” Walking past him and into the hallway, I placed my purse string on my shoulder. “I’m just excited to try the steak.”

“You look awfully dolled up just to go enjoy a steak.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Can’t a girl get dressed up once in a while without being questioned?” I eyed him.

He was clearly alluding to something, and I didn’t want to hear it.

“I just don’t see you dressed up much.” He shrugged his shoulders like a teenage boy.

“Well, I never have a reason to be while living on a dude ranch for the summer.”

“Good point,” he mimicked my choice of words, and I swatted his arm.

Thoughts of Everett crept in, and I didn’t want to focus solely on that, but I cared too much already what he thought. It was rare to get any time around him without a boy around, and this was going to be a night with no boys and no ways of escaping. Just pure observance. Or even worse, interaction.

My stomach tightened.

We hopped into Jasper’s truck and headed straight through town and right to the outskirts, leading us directly to Country Fire Grill. I could hear the music from inside the car. The quaint restaurant had a wraparound porch and was lit up with white twinkle lights. The parking lot was nearly full, and dust floated in the air from all the vehicles. Despite that, trees surrounded the area, and the moon lit up the sky. I felt like I’d just jumped straight into a movie. It was an idyllic night for being out and enjoying good food, music, and company.

I took a deep breath and slammed the truck door shut. I followed Jasper inside and immediately wished I had worn jeans. The entire place was filled with ranch hands, ranging from eighteen to eighty. The few women that were around hardly wore much at all, leaving little to the imagination. Some people were decked out in cowboy hats and boots while others leisurely stood in plaid or whatever they had on that was comfortable. It was an array of different types of people, but one thing was for certain: everyone had come here to enjoy themselves.

We walked through rows of tables with empty peanut shells covering the floor crunching underneath my ankle-high boots. We were headed toward the bar in the center of the room, and on the opposite side was the dancing. Over in the left corner of the room was a table, surrounded by the guys from work. Some were hooting and hollering at dancers while others were checking girls out. A few just sat, drinking their beers. Only one person caught my attention, and once I was sure he had seen me, the breath from my lungs dissipated.

He wore a white T-shirt with a navy elbow-length over-shirt, light-blue jeans, and tan combat boots. He didn’t fit in with the rest of the group, looking more like an H&M model than a cowboy. And for the first time, he just stared at me without hiding it, making every single step closer more nauseating. I was worried I would trip and fall flat on my face. I had a record of embarrassing myself in front of him. I tried to avoid eye contact, for the heat of his gaze alone was unsettling. I stood hiding behind Jasper while he said hello to everyone. I nodded my head in everyone’s direction, afraid that the words coming out would sound unintelligent.

“You gonna stand back there all night?” Jasper spoke over his shoulder at me.

“Of course not.” I moved forward and fidgeted with my jacket.

“Harper.” Everett spoke assertively.

“Everett.” I nodded my head toward him, but didn’t look at him. I must seem like such a coward.

I waited ’til he glanced away, and I stole a look from the corner of my eye. A faded smile was written all over his face.

What was he smiling about?

He took a sip of his water, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. My mouth dried up.

“Can we order?” I asked as I worked on distracting myself. Taking a seat in front of me, I opened a menu and pretended to look at it.

“No need. I already ordered you a steak.” Everett spoke up, but this time, he avoided my gaze. “Medium rare, right?”

“Yes, thank you.” I bit the inside of my cheek.

He’d remembered my order somehow.

He just mumbled under his breath.

The next half hour consisted of talking shop and cracking jokes. I could tell some of the guys were already getting plastered, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before something dramatic ensued. We had a good team of men on our ranch, but none of them held their alcohol well. Jasper never drank much, if at all, and always kept everyone in their place. He held on to the mama taught me right mentality, keeping everyone else safe.

Growing tired of my water, I stood up and excused myself to order a soda from the bar. While I waited, a tall, blonde man in his mid-thirties showed up next to me. At first, he pretended like he hadn’t seen me, but his arm brushed up against mine, causing an alarm to go off in my head. I didn’t like being touched by people I didn’t know.

Should I call him out? Or should I wait and see how this played out? Within seconds of my thoughts, he turned around to talk to me, acting surprised.

“Oh, hey there. I didn’t see you.” He smiled a charming smile, but something about his demeanor didn’t settle well with me. “How could I be blind to a purty thing like you?”

He took a step closer, and his body leaned closer to me. I took a step sideways, faked a smile, and turned my attention back toward the bartender.

Ignore. That was the plan.

Maybe he would get a clue and go away. Besides, I never splurged with sugar, and I really wanted my soda.

“Where’d you come from anyway?” he asked me, not taking the hint. Perspiration lined his face as I fought the warning crawling up my spine.

“Um, from over there.” I used my thumb and pointed it behind me toward my table of all guys, hoping that would intimidate him.

It didn’t.

“Got yourself some groupies, huh? I don’t blame you. With looks like that and ankles that thin, I would follow you around anywhere too.”

That was it. This guy was getting on my nerves. I couldn’t tell if he was too dumb to ignore social cues or if he was too wasted to notice.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender handed me my drink, and I turned to leave.

The stranger’s hand caught my arm, and he pulled me closer, almost spilling my drink on me. I could smell his foul breath, and I wanted to spit on him.

“Please let go of me,” I asked through my teeth.

“I’ll let go of you when I damn well please,” he hissed close to my face and patted my butt.

I pulled hard at my arm to break free of his grasp, and his hand tightened. I threw my drink in his face, and he smiled like an evil villain, tightening his hold.

“There you are, sugar.” Everett’s voice broke through my fear, his hand reassuring me on my back, and relief washed over me like being splashed with cold water.

He grabbed the man’s hand off my butt and twisted it quickly, causing the man to shout out.

“Oh, my bad. Was that your hand on my woman’s backside?” He took a step forward, twisting harder and holding his other hand from swinging. He got closer to his face. “Treat a woman with respect, you little piece of sh—”

I placed my hand on his back to let him know it was time to walk away.

“Next time, you’d better watch yourself, or you won’t have a hand attached to your body,” he hissed in the stranger’s face.

I’d never seen Everett that composed while wanting to break something. He was cool and collected as steam came from his ears. “Now, get out of my face.”

The stranger looked behind Everett and saw several of the guys walking toward us. His eyes widened, and he ran in the other direction. Everett turned to face me, concern sat between his arched eyebrows. He grabbed both my shaking hands and then pulled up my jacket to check my arms. He saw a small red mark from the stranger’s tight grip, and he stroked it with his thumb, sending chills up my arm.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded my head. I was a little off-kilter. I didn’t know whether it was from a horrible stranger trying to take advantage of me or Everett coming to my rescue. Either way, I fought off tears and pushed back the bile rising in my throat. He put his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized on behalf of the man who had actually hurt me.

“Please, let’s not worry about it anymore.” I blinked profusely.

He nodded and let go of my face, taking strokes of reassurance with him.

Jasper put his arm around me, pulling me into a bear hug. “I’m sorry, sis. I was in the middle of breaking up a fight and didn’t even know it was happening. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” I whispered.

I was grateful for his kindness but wished I were receiving Everett’s attention and not my brother’s. Everett turned to leave.

I called out after him, “Thank you, Everett.” I took a step out from my brother’s grasp and leaned toward him. “I really appreciate your interference.”

He nodded and went back to the table. His silence screamed for attention.

Jasper checked me over and gave me a speech of needing to learn self-defense and to always hit a man where it hurt. I was over it already and just wanted to finish the night—or at least try to turn it around. I gave all the right responses before I left him and went back to the table to finish my cold meal. There, sitting in front of my plate, was a fresh soda.

I smiled. I knew who had done it, but I also knew he wouldn’t like the credit. I raised my glass and toasted the air to him, knowing full well he was waiting for my reaction. His eyes said it all, warm and inviting.

I turned to my plate and happily finished my cold steak with my delicious carbonated beverage, smiling every time I took a sip. Between the food and time to compose myself, the shaking of my hands calmed.

As everyone else sporadically left the table one by one to dance or get more to drink, I leaned back a bit in my chair to people-watch. Jasper had to leave and take two guys home who were plastered, but assured me he would come back to pick me up. He knew Everett never drank and left him in charge of the rest of the crew. I wasn’t quite ready to leave. I didn’t want my night to be spoiled by one rude man who had luckily gotten led out by security soon after he accosted me.

I sat as couple after couple began drifting onto the dance floor. I was mesmerized by the movements of these well-developed dancers. The steps were so in alignment with the music, beat after beat, with smiles gracing their faces.

My trance was lost when a hand reached out in front of my face, catching me off guard.

“Would you like to dance?”

26

HARPER

I froze. I knew that hand. We weren’t dating. We weren’t even exactly close friends anymore. And yet I knew the grooves and crevices of his knuckles, the way it worked a guitar and mended fences, and I knew this hand was outstretched just for me. Without a word, I placed my hand—which seemed so dainty and little in comparison—on top of his, and he slowly led me away from my seat and onto the dance floor.

The fast line dance ended, and Sam Hunt’s “Take Your Time” serenaded in the background. Everett’s hand collapsed over mine as he drew me in and placed the opposite hand on my waist, pulling me in as tightly as he could with the ability to still dance. My other hand grabbed his shoulder as I tried to breathe. My heart wouldn’t stop hammering, and I was sure it would jump out of my chest at his nearness.

I kept my eyes forward on the dancers around us, letting him lead us around in a circle. It wasn’t anything complicated. In fact, it wasn’t that graceful of a dance at all, but it was slow, in sync with each other’s movements and perfect. No bending or twirling to make me concerned, just swaying back and forth to the music. The way he held me so tenderly but with such firmness. His closeness confirmed we both wanted to be here.

My mind wandered to the weeks it had been since I had come to the ranch. Those first few weeks, it had been difficult for me to understand the man in front of me, but with each passing day, I was learning and understanding more. The night in my room was a floodgate that opened to possibility. Slowly, he’d started to show more of himself around me, not harboring it all in or closing the doors for no woman to see. He was more tender than he let on.

“Landon is in love with you.” Everett spoke up quietly. “All the boys are.”

I shook my head, not believing it.

“I’m serious,” he situated his head so I could see his eyes as he spoke. “Just a few nights ago, I talked with Landon. He was having a rough time. And he said he wished he had someone like you in his life.”

Landon looked up to him. He desired to be cool and liked. But he was the type of boy who wouldn’t change his standards, even for the older boys to like him. He was true to his values, kind, and genuinely a happy kid.

“I know. I heard you. Accidentally.” I looked down at his throat, watching him swallow. “You were teaching him the D minor chord.”

“I was working on a song. He came over to chat.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“He asked you what you thought of me being here.”

He nodded slowly.

“You don’t hate it as much as you lead on.” I bit my cheek to not smile.

He looked directly at me. “I don’t hate having you here, Harper.”

“Mmhmm.” I mumbled. “He also asked you about your mom.”

“It’s not any easy thing to discuss—my family.” He looked away again.

“I know. You handled it perfectly.” I instinctively inched a little closer between our moving around the dance floor. “Even when he broke down crying, you showed up and were there for him. That's all he wants. To be heard. That’s all any of them want. They just want to be loved exactly how they are. It’s easy to do, and I don’t understand how their parents can’t manage it.”

This was just one of countless times Everett had shown up for these boys exactly how they needed. Some liked to talk; some didn’t. Some liked to put it all into music; others fought it. But regardless, he was there, lending a hand, talking them through it, and leaving them happier than when he had found them.

“I don’t understand it either. But it’s also why I love this work. I can show up for a boy that doesn't have that at home.” He grasped my hand a little more.

To the world, he might seem cold or impersonal. When you’d pay close attention, it was the complete opposite. This man was truly a gem, whether he saw it in himself or not. Why someone hadn’t snatched him up already was a wonder.

Right now, he was choosing to dance with me. I wasn’t about to waste this occasion on worry.

Everett’s chin was close to my cheek. He had a freckle under his right earlobe, taunting me to kiss. I inhaled his scent, relishing the closeness. Imprinting each detail to memory. As if my observations called to him, his face turned toward mine, and his two-day stubble pricked the side of my face, sending chills down my neck. His cologne was masculine, and his warm embrace invited me in.

“Thank you again for saving me back there.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He responded by tightening his grip possessively. I welcomed it.

“You’re good at that, you know.”

“What am I good at?”

“Saving people,” I whispered. “Making them feel important. Or worth it.”

Everett replied by kissing the top of my head. Even if it was in a sisterly manner, I chose to relish it. His touch tingled my entire equilibrium.

Everything about this moment made me want to stop time, to hold on tightly and relive it as many times in the future as I could when my hope was rusty and my pain seeped in. I wanted to remember the way it felt to be held by him. Like I had been created to fit in his arms, like we were two halves of a whole. I wanted to remember the way my body reacted to his nearness, each touch magnified. I noticed every single muscle tense in his arms and shoulders as he held me and the way my hand molded into his, as if it had been made to be there.

I wanted to remember what it was like to dance with a man so alluring, so handsome, and so desirable. Even though, in a split second, I could turn around, and his desire to let go and walk away would take over, leaving me to fall to my knees and beg him to stay.

Was this what it felt like to truly like someone? More than just your average crush, more than just the boy you had lost your first kiss to or the guy who had taken you out on your first date. More than the infatuation of a young first love. This was different. It was calming yet exciting. It was like he was out at sea, catching me ever so slowly and taking his time to reel me in. Turn after turn, I sank deeper into the clutches of his bait, knowing that I could be harmed if I let go, so I stayed, and I waited. Knowing that it was too late to do anything else.

All I wanted was for him to open up a little more to me, to let me in and allow me to be there. I wanted to hold his hand or to catch him if he fell.

The song was about to end, and I cursed. The music stopped, and he still didn’t let go. He swayed slowly to nothing but the chatter of noise as I lost myself in his touch.

I knew that if we were not in a room full of people, I wouldn’t have the ability to resist those captivating eyes calling out to me. I couldn’t recall feeling such strong tension before, making me weak in the knees.

His breath tickled my neck, and as his heartbeat was as fast as mine. Heat grew in my stomach. All it would take was a slight turn of my head, and I could place a soft kiss to his throat. I watched him swallow as the butterflies grew. His scruff scratched my forehead, and I clung to his arm a little tighter.

“May I cut in?” Jasper asked, and the moment was broken.

I tried to catch my bearings. When did he get back, and why did it have to be right at this moment?

Everett quickly dropped my hand and stepped away.

“Of course.” He raised his hand in my direction, looking at me one more time before turning away.

Jasper took my hand and led me in the next dance, which was more upbeat, rocking me back and forth.

“Well, this brings me back.” He winked as I smiled knowingly at the time we had danced together as kids. “How did you do it?” he asked me.

It took a second for my mind to come back to reality. I was still in a fog, and I didn’t want to come out of it.

“Do what?” My eyes roamed the room until they landed on Everett again.

He was leaning up against the back wall, taking a sip of his water.

“Get him to dance.”

Jasper’s words surprised me, and I turned in to meet him as he finished a quick twirl.

“What do you mean?”

“In the few years Everett’s worked here and come out with us, I have never seen him dance. Not once.” He acted surprised. “And there were plenty who asked.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I honestly did nothing.”

“You mean to tell me, anti-dancer over there came and asked you to dance?” He pointed in Everett’s direction.

“Don’t sound surprised that someone might actually want to.”

“Not at all. It just shocked me that he’d stepped up. That’s all.” He continued leading us around the dance floor as doubt crept in.

“I’m getting tired. Maybe it’s time for me to go.”

Jasper could tell I was upset, and as I attempted to pull away, he moved me back into our dance. “Hey. Don’t take what I said the wrong way.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“If anyone can touch a heart, it’s you, Harp.” Then, he let go.

What kind of speech was that? One minute, he had made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of someone’s dance, and then he’d said something profound.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I looked over his shoulder and saw Everett talking with some of the guys, distracted. “He might seem different, Jasp, but he isn’t. He is the same boy I’ve known my entire life, and yet I’m supposed to act like I don’t know the real him anymore. If he hasn’t had a breakthrough by now, I don’t know why you think I would be the person to do it.”

“The boys told me about your conversation with them when you first came,” he retorted.

“Which one?” I argued, as I wasn’t in the mood.

“The one where you talked about your perfect man.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I didn’t need my brother to overhear my awkward conversations with teenage boys.

“They told me all about your characteristics. And guess who just decided to randomly cut his hair and trim his beard after three years of having it? Everett.”

I eyed him, and his smug look caused my anger to fuel.

“That was not a coincidence.”

I kept my mouth shut. I’d avoided talking about Everett to my brother my entire life, and I wasn’t about to start now.

“He’s softened since you came here.” He spoke kindly. “He has always been soft when it comes to you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion.

“He’s always had a soft spot for you. If someone tried to do you wrong, it was always him wanting to right it.” He slowed our steps and we were barely moving anymore. “The tires? That was all him.”

Recognition hit me, and the memories came flooding in. “I can’t believe, this whole time, I thought it was you.”

“It didn’t even matter who came up with the idea first; we had your back. You’ll always have two men in your life who want to protect you.” He shrugged, as if it were nothing.

It was everything to me. I wasn’t just a burden to them. They wanted to be there. Everett wanted to take care of me.

“I think I’d like to go home now, if you don’t mind.”

“Come on. I’ll take you home.”

I nodded as he led me off the dance floor.

I knew that if Everett had not been there to make me feel safe and shake off the man who had tried to hit on me, I would still be anxious about it. Instead, the knowledge that he had my back as long as he was there, that he wanted to keep me safe and protect me, gave me a little more confidence that I was worth it.

If I mattered that much to him, why had he left ten years ago without saying goodbye?

Everett looked at me as I walked past the table. His gaze pleaded for more, as if they had been doing so all along and I was too blind to see it. Did he truly care for me? I remembered so many instances of Jasper and Everett coming to my aid. I’d assumed it was Jasper dragging Everett, but what if it had been the other way around? How could that be possible?

My head was heavy with the weight of my thoughts, and my heart was soaring like a bird in the sky, pulling me in two different places at once. The combination drained me, and I needed time to think.

Harper

THEN

Meet at the tree house in thirty minutes.

The note was awfully cryptic, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go anywhere after the humiliation of being rejected—twice. I knew the boys meant well, but I’d rather just spend homecoming night in my room, watching a romantic comedy and crying.

I looked down at my rainbow-print pajamas and figured it didn’t matter. It was eight on a Saturday night, and I had no plans. I shrugged my shoulders and walked out the back door. My bare feet touched the cold grass as I meandered around the corner of the house and back facing the tree house. There were a few oddly placed string lights underneath the floorboards. Jasper and Everett were standing underneath, dressed in their church suits, waiting for me.

“What in the world?” I mumbled.

Jasper came forward, a lopsided grin covering his face.

“We thought since you weren’t going to the dance, we could bring the dance to you.” He playfully pulled on his tie and offered me a hand.

I had become sensitive over the last few years, everything bringing emotions to the surface, and I knew the boys had grown tired of it. I choked back tears and took his hand.

“I’m—I’m not dressed, Jasp,” my wobbly voice confessed.

“We don’t care. It’s all for fun anyway,” he said, and Everett nodded in agreement.

I looked to the right, and a table was set up with fancy china for dinner. I looked to the left, which had a backdrop for pictures. Everett placed a corsage on my wrist.

I wiped my makeup-less face and tried to smooth my messy hair. It was all too much.

“May I have this dance?” Jasper asked.

I nodded my head and placed my cold hand in his. Jasper awkwardly moved in a circle for thirty seconds before he stopped.

“It’s too weird. You do it, Ev.”

He pushed me gently into Everett’s open arms. “I’ll stick to being the DJ.”

Everett grasped my hand tightly in his while moving his opposite hand on my waist, as if he was apprehensive. I’d never been held by a boy before or danced with one, and I didn’t know what to do.

Has Everett danced with a girl before? my heart wondered.

I stepped side to side, trying to find a rocking movement, and he shook his head.

“Let me lead. Just follow my feet.”

I sucked in air and attempted to do as he’d asked. We began to sway softly in a slow circular motion. Neither of us was very graceful, but the intent was there.

“You didn’t have to do this.” The words barely made a sound. I bit my lip to hold back the emotion.

“I know. We wanted to. You deserve to have at least one dance in your life.”

He wouldn’t make eye contact with me, which was fine by me. He kept his gaze forward, which was almost a full head above me. I couldn’t contain my emotions and didn’t want him to see me blubbering anyway.

“Thank you,” was all I said as I held tightly to his hand.

Each movement was etched into my memory for the many lonely school dance nights to come.

He pulled me closer as we continued to sway, and time was lost.

“Okay, this is getting too awkward. I give up. Plan B!” Jasper yelled as he tore off his tie, breaking through our dance. “Come on. We have something else.”

I eyed Everett as he raised an eyebrow and led the way back into the house. Jasper had a movie ready to play with all our favorite snacks laid out on the coffee table. Blankets and pillows lined the couch.

“Now we are going to watch a movie about a teenage homecoming dance and make fun of it the entire time.” He high-fived Everett as they both tore off their suit jackets and collapsed onto the couch, patting the center for me to sit between them.

“Those guys are assholes, and you don’t need stupid high school boys.” Everett spoke.

I looked out of the corner of my eye as he avoided eye contact with me.

“For real. The worst sort of tools. Who likes prom anyway?” Jasper popped a Hot Tamale in his mouth.

“I really don’t deserve you guys,” I said, eyeing them both while sinking back into the cushions.

“We know,” Jasper said on behalf of them both, bumping my arm with his. “Love you, sis.”

He hit play, and we joked around throughout the entire movie.

I fell asleep that night feeling lighter than I had in a while.

27

HARPER

Pulling lightly at the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I dumped the tea bag into the hot water, watching the color drip slowly into the clear liquid. The steam rose upward, calming my addled brain. Closing my eyes, I took in the scent of the hibiscus and honey while wrapping my foot behind my other ankle, routinely fiddling with my anklet. It was a chilly night, and the thought of hot tea was reassuring.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned to the sound, not expecting a soul to be awake at this hour. The shadow surrounding him as he walked toward the fireplace light seemed symbolic of who he was; a strong, solid stature leaning into goodness when all he knew was harsh. A person who had unkind reminders of failure as a child, the weight ever heavy in his stare.

“I didn’t realize anyone was awake.”

His deep voice warmed me before the hot liquid even touched my mouth.

“Neither did I.” I went back to stirring my spoon in circular motions. “It seems we quite often think alike.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“For the use of the kitchen or drinking tea?”

“Whichever one you want.”

I attempted to hide the grin creeping upward. He still cared what I thought. That was something I remembered keenly. On several occasions, while Jasper had left the room to do something, Everett would turn to me and ask what I thought on whatever subject matter they had been discussing. If it had to do with what activity they were going to do, he would ask my opinion, knowing full well I couldn’t partake in it. I hadn’t known it at the time, but looking back and with all Jasper had mentioned tonight, I thought it was Everett’s way of including me and elevating my self-esteem. He cared about me—this was now evident. To what capacity, I wasn’t sure.

Has he always been that thoughtful of me?

“I’ll make you a cup.” I moved to the stove to hold on to the sizzling teakettle while reaching for another mug hanging from a hook nearby.

“I can do it,” he interjected, reaching out his arm.

“I know you can, but I’d like to.”

He moved closer to me and leaned his lower back against the counter. His arms braced the edge behind him, causing the strain to make his arms all the more inviting.

I pushed the mug toward him. “Careful. It’s hot.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t move from his stance.

“I didn’t know you liked tea.” I watched him from the corner of my eye. “You drank it last time, but I wasn’t sure what you thought.”

“Anything you make is always delicious.”

“Are you referring to my many failed attempts at cooking as a teenager?” I watched his mouth tilt upward.

“To you, it wasn’t good enough, but to me, it was better than most things I ever ate.”

The raw honesty caused my throat to tighten. I had known he didn’t come from much, but I’d never thought about the logistics of what that meant until recently. Ignorance was the downfall of a young girl trying to only see the positive.

“I’ve had your mother’s meatloaf, and it’s divine.” I tried to lighten the mood.

“That was only on very special occasions.”

“To my mom, everything was a special occasion.”

“I know. I remember.”

Our eyes met head-on, and the knowing was just sitting there between us. So much known and so much left unsaid.

I took a sip and leaned against the counter. I watched him as he took deep breaths. Was I making him nervous?

“Can I ask why you couldn’t sleep?”

I glanced in his direction to see concern written all over his face. He knew me better than I thought.

“The usual reasons.”

“I always hoped you’d find relief after all these years,” he whispered, the kindness evident in the way he spoke.

“Me too,” I muttered under my breath.

I didn’t want to talk about this. It was all anyone ever wanted to talk about.

“Does it all still hurt?” he asked.

I was sick of it defining me. There was more to me than this ailment. I needed someone to see that, but I knew he was only trying to be kind.

“Yeah, it does.”

We just sat in silence for a moment. It was uncharted territory—the unknown with him. I used to read him like a book and knew exactly how he would react, but not this man in front of me. He was more guarded than I remembered, and I anxiously waited to know what he would say or do next.

I wanted him to move past the formality of strangers when we were once friends. I wanted to know him again. I desperately needed more from him, and I couldn’t explain the reason why.

The crackling of the fire made for perfect background music as he reached out his arm. “I’m going to go out on a limb here.” His fingers wiggled in front of me. “We never did get to finish, thanks to our interruption earlier.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He blew out a puff of air. “Will you dance with me?”

I gawked at his question. How did he remember? Why would he choose to dance with me? Right now, when there was still so much unknown between us?

“I promise to go slow.”

I nodded, the words were lost to me. His calloused fingertips—from years of picking at his guitar strings—brushed up against my skin. The thrill of his touch erupted throughout my veins.

He laced his fingers with mine while gently pulling me forward. My other hand landed on his bicep as he gathered me closer. I couldn’t recall having ever been this close to him, minus a hug or two in our past. This felt infinitely different and much more potent. His free hand slid around my lower back, leaning me into him. Each fingertip was embedded on my skin and etched into my memory. I shivered unintentionally. The contact caused my entire being to react before I could even conjure up an excuse in my brain.

Everett Jones was holding me. And he wanted to dance with me. Not in a room full of people or around other workers, where everyone took their turn in doing so. Not out of obligation or just being kind. He desired this moment as much as I did.

I knew if I thought long and hard about this, my logic would come up with endless possibilities as to why he was doing this. I didn’t want to believe any of them. At this moment, I just wanted to feel something more. I wanted to lean into the unknown and find out what would happen.

His breath tickled my neck. The rippling effect moved all the way down my arm and into my stomach, like a line of dominoes swirling around each nerve ending.

“I remember seeing it too.” He spoke softly as he began to reminisce.

“Mom and Dad’s dancing?”

“Yeah.” He led us into a slow and soft sway, barely lifting our feet in the process. It was perfect for how I was feeling. “Your parents were notorious for late-night dances in the kitchen.”

My lips curved upward in remembrance. “I often wondered if they knew they were being watched, and if they did, did they care?”

“I bet they knew,” he hummed softly. “Your parents had a way of turning every moment into a teaching moment even if it wasn’t intended. They showed everyone they knew how to love each other right. And it never lessened over time.”

“Mmhmm.” I watched as my vision slowly turned clockwise.

The heat from our interlocked hands felt like a fire within me. I no longer felt a chill.

“I need the reminder of all their amazing qualities. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in their overbearing concern that I forget how much they’ve taught me. How much love there was in our home.”

“Why do you think I always wanted to be there?”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with so much as a kid. I wish—I wish I could have taken your pain away.” I squeezed a little tighter.

“While you were dealing with your own?”

“Well, yes, but it was different. Mine was all physical. It was a mind over matter kind of deal. With you, it was more life-altering. And I wanted to somehow shield you from it. But I was just a young girl who knew very little.”

“My dad wasn’t always an ass.”

I made a hmph noise.

“He had good moments. The bad ones just lasted longer and outweighed most of them.”

“Did he ever hit you?”

He shuffled a little, messing up our circular rhythm.

“I’ve always wondered but never dared to ask.”

“He did, but only a few times. Most of the time, it was yelling. Threatening to hurt my mom. And that was usually after he drank.”

“Your poor, sweet mom.”

“She’s been away from it for a while. Time helps some.”

“She never went back?”

“Nope.”

I wanted to ask more, to know where he had gone when he ran away all those years ago. To know of the life he had lived and the things that had made him who he was standing in front of me now. But it wasn’t the time to. It was time to make peace with the awkward silences, long and confused gazes across the room, and unanswered questions looming in the air.

“I’m happy you found this place, Everett. I see the looks on these boys’ faces, and you make a difference.” I spoke the words into his neck, wishing I could place a soft kiss there. I desperately wanted to reassure him that he was loved, wanted, and desired. Somehow, I knew he needed to hear that.

“I’m happy you’re here too, Harp.” It was little more than a whisper.

He hadn’t called me that in over ten years. I worked to keep that stone wall around my heart, but it just might have gained a small crack.

“I’ve missed you,” I mumbled so quietly that I hoped he wouldn’t hear.

His hand tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against his stomach. I still couldn’t see his face, but his reaction told me he had heard.

“If only you knew,” was all he said.

Just hold me forever in your arms, like this. I could be happy, just like this.

“Is that my bracelet?” he whispered in my ear.

The shock of his acknowledgment rendered me speechless. How could he possibly know?

The brown leather strap holding dark-colored beads was wrapped tightly around my right ankle and had been there since the moment I had found it on Jasper’s floor the morning after Everett disappeared with his mother. I didn’t know the significance other than he had worn it daily. I knew the right thing would be to return it. If he had ever come back, I would have made sure to give it to him. And to make sure I never lost it, I kept it near me and never parted with it. It eventually became a part of me, and I didn’t always remember its presence. Which seemed symbolic to its owner.

Not a single person ever acknowledged its existence until now. How could I possibly admit I had held on to it all these years for him? That would make me sound either desperate or pathetic, and I’d rather not own either one. My silence threatened the mood, and he stilled.

“Is it?” he asked again with fervor.

This situation had many different outcomes, and I wasn’t sure I was prepared for any of them. But he wanted to know, and I couldn’t lie to him.

I took a deep breath. “I wanted to give it to its rightful owner, if he ever came back.” The words choked me.

“I thought it was lost forever.” He sucked in as he asked, “You held on to it all this time?”

Moving his head back, he faced me, and it took everything in me not to run away.

“I did.”

He stopped leading us, giving me his full attention. The look in his eyes was undeniable. Desire felt heavy. Heat pooled into my stomach, and before I could follow what was happening, he cupped the sides of my face as his lips descended softly onto mine.

I exhaled, grabbing ahold of his forearms while he guided my lips to his, holding securely to my face. Kissing my upper lip and then my lower. The soft caress of his lips on mine caused an undeniable feeling—like I was falling and being caught, all at the same time. What started soft and sweet grew into a passionate exchange. It seemed like every moment between us had led up to this. Every interaction, every touch, had led to this undeniable truth. And I never wanted it to end.

His tongue grazed my lip, inviting me to open wider, and our mouths played against each other. Sucking, biting, pulling. My grasp tightened on his arms, wanting more and more.

I instinctively pushed forward but was afraid he would deny me. Did he want this? Was he just caught up in the moment? The doubt and the fear erupted in my mind, and I pulled away, my hands still frozen in place on his arms. Trying to catch my breath, I searched his eyes for something—anything.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time.” His voice was raspy and seductive, and it took everything in me not to jump into that kiss again.

I had only been here a short time, so his desire couldn’t have been that long, could it?

I had so much to say, and nothing came out. I wanted to freeze this. To hold tightly on to every detail. The crackling of the fire, the warmth of his embrace, the dance. And the way he was looking at me right now. Like I was the only person in the world he wanted to look at. I felt desired. Wanted. It was an entirely new feeling.

He leaned forward and touched my lips once more before the moment was gone. “I should go,” he mumbled.

“Don’t,” I practically begged.

He smiled. Fully and all-consuming. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. My heart thudded so wildly that it was as if I had just run a marathon.

He kissed my forehead, grabbed his mug off the counter, and while walking away, he said, “Good night, Harp.”

I lifted my hand to say what my mouth couldn’t.

What just happened?

There was only one thing I knew for certain: I wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

28

HARPER

I woke up much lighter than I had felt the night before. It was as if something new had been unleashed from within me. A lightness of hope lingered, and it was too good to ignore.

I stepped out of my bed, and my toes hit the cold wood floor. I noticed a piece of paper taped to the back of my door.

Meet me at the pond when you wake up.

I thought of the notes I used to share with Jasper back before texting was a thing. I recognized his handwriting and knew this wasn’t it. The only other person who knew of our notes was Everett. He must have also thought last night was too good to ignore.

Readying myself as quickly as I could, I worked my way downstairs.

“Hey, Martha. Is it okay if I skip breakfast this morning?” I tried to dull my tone.

“Of course, darlin’. And where are you off to bright and early this morning?” Her questioning gaze intimidated me.

I picked up an apple from the basket by the stove and tried not to make eye contact with her.

“Just in the mood for a walk.” That wasn’t a lie.

She eyed me cautiously while making a humming noise. “You enjoy yourself.” A smile crept up on her face.

I gave her a big hug and slipped out the back door before any of the boys saw me.

The pond wasn’t very far, only about a quarter mile from the back fence. Close enough that anyone could see if there weren’t trees and shrubbery hiding it away. I appreciated the few minutes to gather my senses.

“I’ve missed you.” I spoke softly.

“If only you knew,” was all he said.

The feeling of his arms around me and the safety I’d felt, being there, were the only things I wanted for the rest of this trip. I knew I couldn’t hope beyond that. There were too many obstacles to face for the both of us. Maybe we could just find comfort in each other for a time. Both of our hearts could use it.

“Hey, you.”

I heard his voice before I saw his face come into view.

“Hey,” I responded as my breath caught in my throat.

No matter how many times I stared at him, I was entranced by how handsome he was each and every time.

“I wasn’t sure if you would come.” His voice was low and skeptical.

“Have I ever not come when you asked for me?”

He waited a moment before responding, “I guess not.” He came closer and grabbed my hand. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

The concern was apparent in his eyes. He knew me well enough to know he wasn’t going to push me if I wasn’t up to it.

“I’d love to.” I squeezed his hand as he guided us deeper into the trees. “It’s been ages since we’ve spent time together.”

“Yeah, about that.” He continued to move me in and out of the brush. “I shouldn’t keep pushing you away to avoid memories of my past.”

“You dealt with a lot of pain, Everett. It’s understandable to want to push that away and anything connected to it.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t make it right. Not with you. You’ve always been a calming piece in the chaos. I think I’ve just been afraid.” He paused, and I stayed silent. “We are almost there.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. I promise I won’t bite.”

“If only you knew how much I wish you would.” He spoke so freely. His cheekbones turned crimson, and I wanted to wrap my arms around him.

Instead, I swatted his arm playfully, and he just smiled.

“This is how it used to be. Talking freely when no one else was around. I’ve wanted this for weeks. Actually, for years.” I squeezed his hand.

“I know. Me too, Harp. I’m sorry it took so long.” He eyed me with reassurance.

“I used to dream you would return.”

“Yeah?” he asked, and I nodded. “What did you imagine it would be like?”

“I used to picture you throwing rocks at my window to be annoying and adorable at the same time. Then you’d sneak through the opening, and we would talk late into the night. You’d tell me all about the songs you’d been writing, and I would tell you how I’d finally graduated college and chose to move out on my own.” I shrugged. “We would just catch up on life.”

“I think that sounds pretty incredible. I wish I had thought of it first.”

We turned a corner and edged around a large trunk to an opening of tall, wispy grass. A blanket lay on the ground with a picnic basket. He had set it up ahead of time. My heart leaped. The howling of the wind rustled in the trees as our feet sank into the cold, dewy grass.

“Here we go.” He led me to sit, but didn’t let go of my hand.

His body shivered, and I knew he wasn’t comfortable.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, Ev. It’s just me. You know me.”

He nodded and took a breath. He let go of my hand and rummaged through the picnic basket. He pulled out a jar of pickles and a bag of chocolate chips, peanut butter, and two spoons.

“I know it isn’t much, and I know you always drink your shakes, but I thought maybe we could splurge today.”

I reassured him with a nod, and he spooned up peanut butter, placed a cluster of chocolate chips on top, and handed me the spoon.

“You remembered,” I whispered.

“I remember everything,” he said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

We both took a bite of our spoon-filled delights. I moaned at the taste.

“You like to make cookies late at night when you have a bad day.” He scratched his jaw. “You only shower at night because you hate feeling dirty in your bed. You won’t watch scary movies because they give you nightmares. You bite your lip when you are nervous, and you avoid confrontation. You always went and sat with a kid who was sitting alone at school. You hate people feeling sorry for you even though you’re a badass.” He looked over at me to see my reaction before continuing, “You hide away to write in your journal pretty much every day. You’ve read more books than most people read in a lifetime. You’ve every boy here in love with you because you are so kind to everyone.” He paused. “And you’ve never seen yourself the way others see you, which is absolutely breathtaking.”

It was my turn to blush. I choked back the peanut butter, and my eyes widened as he leaned in.

“That’s not true,” I whispered.

“That’s what you think.”

We moved in toward a kiss without a beat in between. My eyes fluttered closed as his lips descended, warm and inviting. They were soft, and his peanut butter breath was sweet. His mouth grew more demanding after I reciprocated. I placed my hand on the other side of him and leaned up against his warm body, never breaking our kiss.

He wrapped his fingers around strands of my hair, tugging, while his other hand moved to my lower back, easing me in closer. Pushing and pulling, our exchange continued, his tongue maneuvering around mine like a magician.

He placed both hands on my waist and lifted me up. I straddled his body, pushing into his thighs. His teeth grazed my lower lip, biting and tugging as my arms wrapped around his neck. No matter how much we tightened our embrace, it wasn’t close enough. I was suffocating for more.

“Please tell me you want this as badly as I do,” he murmured in between kisses.

“So much.” I kissed him more fervently, if that was possible.

His hands grabbed my butt, and I knew I had to take a breath.

“But we can’t. Not here, not now.”

He slowed his kisses down and gave one last squeeze before he let his forehead rest on mine, and we tried to catch our breath.

“Damn,” he breathed against my cheek.

“You’re telling me. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed that way.” The honesty shook my voice.

His hands moved to my face as he caressed my cheeks.

“You deserve to be kissed like that every day for the rest of your life.”

And just like that, my heart gave way.

“So, tell me something I don’t know about you,” I said as he smirked, stuffing his mouth with another bite. “Ten years is a long time, Ev. There is a whole life you lived. I want to know about it. It doesn’t even have to be anything serious.”

He leaned back on his arms, crossing his ankles. “I hate Brussels sprouts, and Martha loves to make them. I watch the Discovery Channel more than I am willing to admit. And I’ve moved a lot.” He shifted. “I lived in Washington, Nevada, and ended up in Tennessee for several years. After finishing school, I thought if I could make it as a musician, I would find happiness. I managed to get several gigs that put me on the map there, which led to more, and before I knew it, I was asked to open for 5 Seconds of Summer.”

“Shut up! Ev, that is a big deal.” I jumped at his news and moved up onto my knees, closer to him. “How have I never heard you on the radio then?”

“That’s what happens when you decline big opportunities. It all gets swept under the rug.” He leaned his head back to bask in some sunlight.

“You turned them down?” I spoke a little louder than I had intended to.

“Yeah. It wasn’t what I wanted. After I played a concert the night before the signing, I just felt the fame of it all, the consumption, wasn’t me. That was also when I walked in on Rachel sleeping with my manager, which was icing on the cake. I didn’t want to be a part of that lifestyle.”

“So, that’s when you came to work on the ranch?” I asked as I opened the jar of pickles, crossing my legs to listen.

“Not yet. I kept playing at local bars and stuff for about a year, just enjoying the music, before I heard from Jasper. Though his call was exactly what I needed. I had felt stuck, and when he offered me a place here, I knew my degree and my love of music would all come together.”

“How serendipitous.” I grinned.

“I think so too.” He took another bite. “I know I have more to work through, but I’ve healed a lot through my music and working with these boys. I also needed this time away to see the world from another view and not just the boy whose parents fought and whose dad abused him. I’d received so much pity from people, growing up, and half the time, I didn’t even know what it was for.”

“And how was traveling for you?”

“Truly eye-opening. There is so much more out there. A lot more pain than I ever had, but also a lot more beauty and joy I never noticed.”

“I love that.”

“Enough about me. What about you? You finally moved out, huh?”

“I did.” I smiled, pride swelling inside me. “It took way too long, but I finally did it. I actually moved out with Charly. Do you remember her?”

“Of course, I remember her. She had a huge crush on your brother and would sneak into his room all the time when we were in there.”

“What? Charly didn’t have a crush on him. She would have told me.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and I thought about it and noticed little moments popping up in my mind.

“That girl hid it from me. What a stinker.” I laughed, and so did he. “Anyway, we moved out and got a place together in an apartment complex about five miles from the school we both teach at.”

“It doesn’t surprise me at all that you became a teacher.”

“How so?”

“You always give more than you get. It’s in your nature.” He handed me water, and I thanked him. “You teach first grade, right?”

“Yes, I do.” I looked at him cautiously.

“Jasper relayed every phone conversation to me. I’ve kept up on most aspects of your life that he knows of. I know you went to ASU and graduated in elementary education, and you moved out. You do regular yoga, take a painting class, make cookies for your elderly neighbors, and never miss a Sunday dinner with your parents.”

“Well, that’s just cheating,” I accused with a smile, and he just shrugged—his favorite reaction. “I don’t know what you want to know if you already know everything Jasper knows.”

“How about things that are more pertinent to your personal self? Not something I could look up on social media.”

“Do you even have any accounts?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“How has it been with Jasper far away?” he asked, knowing the vulnerability in his questioning.

We were about to dive deep, and I hoped it was well received.

“Hard. He’s been my best friend my entire life, and not having him around all the time feels like something is missing. But between my parents constantly checking in, Charly being great, my students, and my books, I keep myself occupied.” I shifted, aching in my seat. “I love that I can call him anytime, and he usually picks up. I’m happy for him. He is truly at home here, and he loves what he’s doing. I am not going to ever get in the way of that.”

“And seeing Martha?”

“Such a treasure. We get to visit every day, and it’s so rewarding. She’s not judgmental or pushy. She just shows up and listens. I just wish she hadn’t experienced so much heartache.”

“Me too. She is truly one of a kind.”

I moved my legs out from under me, and he grabbed them and laid them across his lap. He fiddled with the bracelet on my ankle.

“I still can’t believe you kept this all these years.” His touch sent a wave of electricity up my leg. “If only I had known then that someone cared that much.”

I moved in and kissed him gingerly. “You know now.”

He attempted a smile, but the mood shifted. He lifted a strand of hair off my face and moved it behind my ear. “Have you been able to manage the pain?”

I shook my head, hating the inevitable, knowing it would be brought up. “When I eat perfectly, stretch daily, continue at therapy, and avoid certain weather changes, it’s manageable.”

He made a sound of understanding. “You’ve always been nothing but persistent and disciplined. Why did Jasper say you needed a break? Sounds like you are doing amazing.”

“Sometimes, Ev, it weighs heavy on my heart. I had a hard last year with difficult students and had to find a new therapist, and the shifts of life changes caused more pain, and more pain causes—” I didn’t like saying the word. Depression was a plague I didn’t want to focus on.

“A bad mind. I get it.” He sighed. “I’ve hammered a tree or two in my days with a bad mind.”

“Literally?”

“Unfortunately. It’s a way to get the anger out without taking it out on someone else.” He looked upward. “You know who taught me that? Your brother.”

“He taught me the same thing, except I couldn’t always make the movements so I learned to throw.”

“The man’s a genius. We used to smash tomatoes or any soft plant we could find in my backyard. As I got older and needed more force, we moved to the tree. Some habits never die.”

“He’s always been wise beyond his years. And a good brother.” It was my turn to sigh.

“He really is. Jasper and I were always tight, and I hated how I’d ended that.” He picked at some grass strands next to him without looking up.

“I think it’s all starting to make sense to me. How you left,” I stated.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You were looking out for your mom, and that was all you could focus on at the time. The way we deal with things in our youth doesn’t define us forever. You can’t expect to have known the perfect way to handle everything when you didn’t have anyone to show you how.” I took a sip of my water. “I learned in a child development class that children naturally go into fight-or-flight mode during traumatic situations. You did what you had to in order to survive. For the both of you.”

“I think you might be right.” He smirked.

“I like the sound of that.” My lips turned upward.

He leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“You always have been wise and understanding. It shouldn’t surprise me that you don’t hold my crap ways against me.” He took my hand in his, the warmth enveloping me. “I never saw it as a trauma response, but now that you’ve said it, it feels true. I regretted not saying goodbye to you and Jasper, but I knew I couldn’t. It was easier to walk away than to think I would never see you again. There is something so final about goodbyes.”

“All of that is understandable. Honestly, that’s what I hoped was the reason, but not knowing was really hard.”

“I’m surprised you both don’t hate me for it.”

“We could never hate you.” I grabbed his hand. “Can I ask one question though?”

“Yeah. Anything.”

“Why was I the one you pushed away from your past and not Jasper?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing since you got here.” He sat up. “I think it’s because I never wanted to admit what it was that I felt between us. Jasper is my friend. He will always be like a brother to me. But you …”

I straightened my back, not prepared to hear what else he had to say.

“It was always deeper with you. I would come home from such a high after being around you, and then it would crash and burn with the low of being home and dealing with my dad.” A cloud covered his eyes, and I scooted closer. “I think I unintentionally merged the two together and wanted nothing to do with either when I left.”

“That makes sense, I think.”

“It is easier to not have to feel and to ignore it all than to deal with depths of the emotion, positive or negative.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been a coward, Harp. Scared of you, scared of letting you in. Scared of what you would make me feel again and what all that would bring up. And scared to—”

We heard a yell from over the bushes.

“Hey, guys! We are all headed to town for some building supplies, and Jasper said we could pick up coffee and muffins on the way. He never lets us drink coffee! You in?” Landon said in a chipper tone.

I looked at Everett, and I knew we both agreed it was more important to put this conversation on hold and be there for the boys when they asked.

“Yeah, bud. We will meet you in a sec,” Everett yelled back, not leaving my gaze.

“Sweet! I’ll let everyone else know!”

The excitement shone bright, and no one could pass up an opportunity to brighten his day. I continued to share a look with Everett, torn between Landon and wanting to stay here and finish our conversation. I wanted him to tell me everything. He was finally opening up, and the moment was now gone.

“Ev, I really appreciate this. Probably more than you realize. Knowing how much you remembered, I feel special. I’ve never had anyone do something like this for me, and, well, it was nice to be thought of and desired for a minute.”

“What do you mean?”

“We should go.”

He didn’t like it, but we forced ourselves up and moved silently back to the ranch.

29

HARPER

“I need you to go check the stalls.” My heart hammered like I was being chased by a madman, but my feet were firmly planted on the ground.

“What’s going on?” Jasper’s raspy voice shook as he rubbed his eyes open. “It’s one in the morning, Harp. Go back to bed.”

“You don’t understand. I need you to go check the stalls. Make sure all the horses are accounted for.” I shook his arm as he was trying to turn his back toward me and fall back asleep.

“Give me one good reason why I should get out of this warm bed on a freezing night at one a.m.,” he mumbled into his pillow.

If there was one thing we had in common, it was that we both hated being woken up.

“It’s Landon.”

“What?” He was now sitting straight up.

“He’s missing.”

“What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“I mean, he’s gone.” I wrapped my blanket tighter around me. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the window. It’s something I’ve been doing a lot lately.” And not something I would go into detail about with my brother.

He didn’t need to know I was currently obsessed with Everett and ritually checking to see if he was outside, playing his magical guitar.

“I was watching the night sky and saw a small figure behind the garage. It took me a second, but I know it was Landon. I would know his shadow anywhere.”

“It could have been your mind playing tricks on you.”

“Yes, it could have been. But I have a sick feeling something is wrong, Jasper. And…”

“And?”

“And I can’t make it down the stairs tonight, or I would have gone to check myself.” My head hung low as I felt beyond defeated by my condition.

I just wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay. Instead, I was stuck on the second floor while my knees gave out. Of all the nights to have a flare-up, I cursed that it had to be tonight. Landon was now like a little brother to me, and knowing he was hurt or upset rattled me to my core, queasiness filling me.

Jasper jumped out of bed and began pulling on his clothes. “Sis, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned you.” He placed a large jacket around his shoulders. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“After dinner. I saw some of the boys picking on him, and he turned to leave for bed early. I knew I should have checked on him then, but I didn’t.” Now, I was kicking myself for it.

“You stay here in case he wanders home.”

“I can’t come sit in the truck with you?”

“Harper, it’s freezing tonight from the storms.”

I looked at him with anger spewing from my eyes.

“We could be wandering for hours and hours. It would be pointless until we have more information to lead from.” He picked up his cell. “Johnny, code red. Check beds and search for Landon.” His serious tone caused me to not envy Johnny. Then, he hung up.

“At least take me downstairs.” I needed to be able to reach him once he was found.

Jasper nodded. He picked me up and walked out the door and down the hallway. He banged on Everett’s door as we passed.

“Everett! Get everyone downstairs in five,” Jasper barked authoritatively as we continued down the hall to the stairs.

We took the final step, and he let me down on my feet, and we were bombarded with a figure coming toward us.

“I just checked his bed, Jasper. He wasn’t in it.” Johnny tried to catch his breath while confirming my suspicions, and my stomach sank.

Jasper directed me to the recliner chair next to the fireplace, and he went to the kitchen. Grabbing a canister of hot cocoa, a couple of protein bars, and an electric lantern, he returned next to my side. He handed me a walkie-talkie. “Keep this close by. I will head toward the mountains, so it’ll get spotty, but everyone else will be within range.”

I saw Everett running down the stairs with Bobby, Darren, and Jason in tow. Everett and I shared a look. Even in the state of worry, my cheeks warmed. His eyes bored into mine. I saw fear and wished I could wrap my hands around him.

Jasper turned to greet them in a stern manner. “Landon is missing.”

Everyone’s faces filled with instant worry.

“Bobby, can you and Darren take the road to town? Feel free to use my truck. Check every neighboring house along the main road. Jason, can you wake up the boys and start drilling? Someone was roughhousing him, and it might be why he fled. We need to know everything they can think of to figure out what happened. Johnny, come with me. Everett can take the opposite side of the meadow. Go saddle three horses for us. Don’t wake Martha unless we absolutely must.”

Everyone had their tasks and left through the doorway immediately.

Jasper turned back to me. “Stay put,” he ordered.

What I hated more than being an inconvenience was being useless. Landon had maneuvered his way into my heart, and I already loved him like a little brother.

Jasper hugged me. “He will be okay.”

Tears welled in my eyes. It might have only been a short time, but I loved the kid something fierce, and I wondered if I could‘ve prevented this whole thing had I followed my gut instinct and checked on him before bed.

“We will find him.”

I nodded my head to agree, but deep down, I was unsure. I watched Jasper and the others leave, and a piece of me went with him.

Please, oh please, someone find him.

It had been three whole hours and not a word from anyone with a lead. Though my eyes were drowsy, my heart heavy, and my body throbbing in pain, I couldn’t help but feel like I could somehow help.

A thought popped into my head. What if you were more than this pain?

With an added boost of momentum, I pushed myself up off the chair. I slowly stretched out each leg and worked my way over to the mudroom closet, grabbing the warmest jacket and boots I could find. It took me ten minutes to bend over and tie my shoes, but I did it. I went to the kitchen and made myself some herbal tea in a canister and walked outside to the brisk early morning air. It was about four in the morning now. I found the go-kart parked on the side of the barn. I inched my way over and found the keys in the ignition. Turning it on, I placed one hand in my jacket and the other on the steering wheel. Each finger throbbed as it grabbed hold.

“I will find you, bud. Hang on tight.” I spoke aloud to myself as I drove forward.

I passed by the garage, drove over the small bridge that arched over the creek, and headed to the south side of the mountains.

“Think, Harper. Did he ever mention anything to you about a favorite spot?”

I rolled around in my mind where he could be for what seemed like hours while driving and yelling his name. I said a silent prayer, and a thought popped into my mind. Landon’s voice echoed through as I recalled a conversation I’d overheard the boys having.

“I’ve always wanted to check for ruins. I hear they are magical and can grant wishes…”

He was going to the edge of the ruins.

They were clear on the other side of the mountain range. At least five miles from here. And way out of walkie-talkie range.

I pushed down on the button and started yelling, “Can anybody hear me? I know where Landon is!”

Silence. I pushed the button again, and the light didn’t turn on. Dead.

“Wonderful!” I yelled.

I drove for another few minutes, hoping that I would run into someone. I checked my cell phone. The signal was gone. A few more minutes passed as I hoped for a better idea. The cart started to chug and spit as the speed slowed down.

No, no, no, no, no! I had forgotten to check for a full tank of gas before I left.

It came to a complete stop. I was stuck, alone, out in the forest near the mountains by myself, in the freezing cold, while my body screamed for some relief.

Stay calm, Harper. Just breathe. You will be fine.

I took my canister and sipped the warm liquid to keep my body alert. I could start walking back home, but I was at least two miles from there, and my knees wouldn’t last.

Why couldn’t I have just listened and stayed home, like Jasper had asked? I’d caused more problems by being stubborn and trying to help. Instead, I sat there. Helpless.

The minutes continued to pass, and I wanted to scream in frustration. The cold rose up my legs, and the aching turned into a stabbing. I curled my knees up to my stomach to warm myself, and I cried. I knew it wouldn’t help anything, but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

I cried for the fear that Landon wasn’t safe, and for his hurt and state of mind. I couldn’t do things the way I wanted to and was dealing with a flare-up when I needed to be searching for a missing child. I hated feeling sorry for myself and wondered if it was possible for anyone to ever love me, all of me.

Minutes passed by until there were no more tears. The heaviness in my chest lightened a bit, and I placed both hands on my head, trying to cool down the headache now forming.

“Harper?”

I heard my name being called from a distance. The sound was faint and quiet but distinct. I thought I had imagined it until it came again.

“Harper.”

I lifted my head to see a dark figure coming toward me, the voice familiar.

I thought I called out, but the words never left me. Relief spread warmth of being found throughout me.

As the form came closer, my heart began to race, but not from worry. Everett Jones. He truly had the most peculiar timing ever.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Everett’s voice was neither kind or understanding. It was flat-out angry. Very similar to how he had sounded at the dinner table several nights ago.

“I was—”

“You were trying to get yourself hurt? Or better yet, left for dead? You’re in the middle of nowhere, Harper, and you’re hurting!” He was now a few feet away from me.

“No, you ding-dong! I was trying to help!” I screamed.

“How is getting stranded accomplishing that?” he yelled back.

“If I had the energy right now, I would slap you for talking to me like this. But I am too tired, and I know where he is, Everett! I came out here to find help. My walkie-talkie died… the cart ran out of gas… my phone—”

He cut me off as he placed an arm under my legs and the other around my back, lifting me up.

“What are you doing?” I prodded, angry and shocked.

“I’m carrying you. What does it look like I’m doing?” he mumbled under his breath.

He held me so gently and as if I weighed nothing.

“I see that. But why?” I couldn’t calm myself.

“I’m not blind, Harper. I know you can’t walk.”

That did it. The tears started flowing again.

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” I whispered through my wet eyes as I frantically wiped them away.

“Damn it, Harp. I’m sorry. I just know how much pain you’re in. You should be at home in the warmth for your joints. Instead, you are out here, being—”

“Being what?” I bit back.

“Being you.” He slowed his pace for a minute while I wrapped my arms fully around his neck, afraid to let go. The heat from his body helped warm my cold and wet self. “You’re always thinking of other people when, sometimes, you need to think of yourself.”

“Just let me help, Ev. I need to do this.”

“Why? He knows you care about him whether you find him or not.”

“Because I need to do something, even out of fear and in pain. I can’t keep waiting and waiting for nothing to happen to me. I can’t keep being an invalid that can’t go help a missing child. I don’t—” He stopped us, and I kept going. “I don’t want the only thing I’ll ever be known as is the sick girl.”

Taking in a deep breath, he continued to carry me in silence for the next five minutes until we got to where his horse was tied off. He gingerly set me down, and he untied the knot holding the reins.

“You want to prove something to yourself? Get on,” he demanded.

“I can’t.” My feet moved backward without a thought.

“Harper”—he turned to me— “I know you are scared.” He took a step toward me, his voice shifted to calm and reassuring. “I assure you, if there was another way to get home and get you back into the warmth quickly, I would do it. But this is the only means of that right now. I need you to get on the horse with me.”

I shook my head as I walked backward at a snail’s pace, my knees about to fall from under me. What if I fell? What if something happened? I just couldn’t get myself to move forward.

“I need you to get up there, Harper.” He held out his hand to me. “I need you… to trust me.”

He took another step closer. His body was just inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and I wanted to move closer for the sake of warmth.

“You are not the only one who sees,” he whispered.

I met his eyes, and a bolt of electricity ran through me, trickling down my arms and all the way to my feet. Did he truly understand my fear of getting on this horse?

“Please. You can do this. I know you can,” he begged.

I knew I would do anything he asked of me. He was trying to help me in the exact same way that I’d just asked. He was helping me overcome a fear and prove to myself that I could do something I didn’t think I could.

Now was the time to take the step forward.

I placed my shaky hand in his, and he led me toward the horse. He helped me lift my aching leg into the stirrup.

“I need you to use all the strength you have right now to pull your opposite leg over the saddle. Can you do that?” He spoke gently and attentively.

I nodded frantically. I thought my legs would give out entirely from the pure fear of the size of this creature. I was up several feet from the ground. Taking deep breaths, I attempted to calm my heart rate.

My back touched his torso as he leaned forward and picked me up from my waist and lifted me onto the horse. I swung my leg over as I cried out a little. I was embarrassed I couldn’t keep it in. I wanted to cover my face, but I needed my hands to steady myself.

Everett climbed up behind me and encouraged my backside closer as he inched forward in the seat. “Attagirl. You’re halfway there. Now for the ride.” The range of his voice and the placement of his hand around my waist were almost seductive.

For a moment, I forgot all about the pain and the cold. All I noticed was the feeling of his hand around me. The tightening of his muscles as he reached forward to grab the reins. The heat of his breath on my neck.

He spoke directly in my ear. “You ready?”

I just nodded my head because the words were lost to me. I worried I would squeal like a frightened hyena.

We moved forward, and the motion caused me to wince. Everett felt it, for his grasp tightened around me.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” I tried to smile, but then I realized he couldn’t see my face, so why pretend?

“You are a terrible liar.” He spoke in my ear again, and I felt his words all the way to my toes.

“How would you know?” I spoke in jest, but my voice didn’t comply.

“You nod your head and mumble when you lie, remember? I remember everything.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that I didn’t know how to respond. “You can relax, you know. It’s just you and me.”

I hadn’t realized I was tensing up until he said something. I took a breath and allowed my body to calm down. I even leaned my head back onto his chest while I closed my eyes.

Don’t think about the pain. Don’t think about how high up you are. Don’t think about the repercussions. Just focus on what you are accomplishing right now. Focus on how right and how strong you feel in Everett’s presence, I thought to myself.

Maybe he didn’t feel the need to hide away from me.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He spoke, breaking through my thoughts. “I was scared.” He was fumbling to speak.

“You? Scared?” My mouth lifted while fighting the urge to smile. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

I knew that if I could see his face, I would find a smirk residing there.

“Laugh all you want, but everyone has fears.” His defensiveness was endearing.

“And what are yours, Everett Jones?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he mumbled once again.

Why, yes. Yes, I would.

30

HARPER

“What in the living hell?” Jasper stopped abruptly when I glared at him.

Everett and I managed to meander slowly back to the ranch, and before we made it in, Jasper was jumping off his horse and running toward us.

“I thought I told you to stay at home!”

He was mad—and rightly so. I hadn’t listened to my big brother’s advice and had to be rescued from the middle of nowhere.

“Of all the stupid—”

“Jasper. Shut up,” Everett scolded him, and my mouth almost dropped to the floor when I saw Jasper’s face redden. “She’s had enough scolding for her actions for one day.” Clearly, he was speaking of my inability to move, my frozen body, and my downtrodden heart of not getting to Landon.

“What happened?” Jasper came and lifted me down from the horse. He pulled me into a hug, his angry stare softening.

“I know where he is.” I hugged him back, knowing it was just his worry speaking.

“Where?”

“The ruins.”

“Johnny! Grab my truck!” Jasper yelled. He turned to me again. “Let’s get you inside.”

“No. I’m coming with you.”

“No, you aren’t.” He spoke quietly.

“Yes, she is.” Everett was now behind me.

Jasper and he shared words with their eyes. I didn’t want to pretend to know what was being said.

Jasper was always playing the older sibling. He wanted to protect me at all costs, all the time. It was probably why I hadn’t had a boy talk to me until I was seventeen. He kept everyone “unworthy” away from me. When it came to my health, his claws came out. And most days, I fully appreciated it. This was not one of those times.

He glared at Everett. They shared a look before his face softened.

“Fine. But you will stay in the truck.” Jasper walked to his truck. He grabbed a blanket from the truck bed and covered me with it. He began to lift me into the backseat when Everett took over.

“Here, let me. You need to grab some working batteries. Harper’s walkie-talkie crapped out, and that’s how we didn’t know where she was.”

Jasper left in a huff. He did not like being told what to do. Usually, he was the one in charge.

Everett then faced me and lifted me up like a rag doll and placed me gingerly in the backseat. Wrapping the blanket tightly around me, he hopped in next to me.

“Johnny, can you blast the heater, please?”

Johnny had moved to the passenger seat and nodded. The warmth trickled through and pinched my cold nerves. Everett put his arm around me and began rubbing my arms up and down.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“We need to get you warm.”

Time seemed to slow down, and as the truck warmed, my body relaxed, and my eyelids were weighted.

“Rest. It’s still a good chunk of time before we get there,” Everett whispered as his hand touched my knee in reassurance.

Before I realized what I was doing, I grabbed his hand and held on tight. Maybe it was because of all the nerves of the night and still not having Landon back with us. Or maybe it was because I had been dreaming about feeling his hand in mine again after our dance. Right now, I wasn’t sorry about it.

He squeezed my hand back and relaxed his back into the seat. He didn’t object to my grabbing of his hand. My belly tightened, and I could feel his thumb brushing the top of mine in slow, soft strokes.

I twisted my head to look over at him and found him already staring back. His face was inches from mine, and all I wanted was to lean in close and—

“Everyone ready?” Jasper asked as he jumped into the driver’s seat.

I blinked and focused my attention ahead, leaving the moment in the dust behind me. One of these days, Jasper would be sorry for constantly interrupting us.

“Here, Harper.” He handed me a pill and told me to relax as much as I could.

I swallowed it and allowed the numbing effect to begin. Ten minutes passed in heavy silence. Tears pricked my eyes as the relief started to flood throughout my bloodstream. The throbbing slowly dissipated. Times like this, I was grateful for modern medicine.

Now, to just find Landon.

I couldn’t believe he was out in the dark, alone and feeling unwanted. If there was anything in the world I wanted, it was for each and every kid to know their worth regardless of whether they ever heard it at home.

It was one of the reasons I had become a teacher. I had learned of so much suffering at the hands of others for poor, innocent children. Beaten, broken, ashamed. Mentally and physically. I wanted to make a difference somehow. So, I spent six hours a day teaching math and science, teaching children how to love themselves and not feel alone. My kids would never question that they were loved and wanted.

I just wanted to get to Landon. I knew if I could just sit with him, I could find out more. He and I had hit it off right from the start. And he already felt like family to me.

I just hoped he was safe.

I saw my vision blur, and my head bobbed unwillingly. Next thing I knew, I had fallen asleep, and my head lay on Everett’s shoulder. I drifted in and out of consciousness, and each time I was brought to awareness, I smiled inwardly. His head was leaning on mine, and his hand still held mine closely, and somehow, it brought just enough comfort that my nerves from the evening began to disappear.

“I see him!” Johnny’s loud voice woke me in a start, and I frantically worked my way sitting up.

It had only been twenty minutes of driving in the truck, but by now, I was groggy and barely able to keep my eyes open.

The truck came to an abrupt stop. All three men jumped out of the vehicle so fast that I could barely blink.

I eased my way forward to look through the large glass windshield and followed the headlights that led to an opening of rocks. I saw a small figure hunched down in a ball, and I was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of relief and sadness.

“Landon,” I whispered. I moved slowly out of the door and down the step of the truck, taking a small step forward. “Landon!” I yelled, and his head popped up.

“Harper?” His voice was so quiet.

He had said my real name, no formality, and I wanted to break down and cry.

I held my arms open, and he came running toward me, passing the men nearing him, and came into my arms. I wrapped him tightly in my embrace, and a floodgate of emotions came crashing through. He began sobbing, and tears trickled down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my shirt.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad we found you.” I kissed the top of his head and continued to hold him closely.

Johnny, Jasper, and Everett found their way back to where we stood, and we all waited patiently as he let out cries.

This must be what it was like to lose a child in the grocery store. The panic and worry were all-consuming, and the relief was overwhelming. I couldn’t comprehend someone ever losing their child forever. These precious souls were here to be cherished.

We got Landon to get in the truck with us, and he sat right next to me as I sat in the middle, Everett on the other side of me. I put my arm around him and covered his lap with the blanket. I knew he was too exhausted to talk. I just held him close as his cries slowed to a simmer, and he relaxed against me.

The drive was quiet. We all were thinking the same thing—why? But the answers would come. Right now, we just needed to make him feel safe.

We drove up to the ranch, and by then, the sun started peeking its way up through the mountain. Several boys had been standing out with their pajamas and jackets, waiting anxiously for our return.

Landon was cared about by everyone at the ranch. The camaraderie showed in everything they did, every activity, service project, lesson, they encouraged each other.

I watched this boy jump down from the truck, and Clarence, Michael, and Josh all ran to him, embracing him, punching his arm, messing up his hair.

I overheard Michael say, “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll beat them to a pulp.”

I smiled. I knew we shouldn’t encourage violence, but the boy I’d thought least likely to care about anyone but himself was the first one to stand up for sweet Landon.

“Harper, you’re safe.” Clarence came up to me and gave me a side hug. “We heard you got stranded.”

“I’m all right. Thank you, Clarence.”

“I would have saved you, you know,” Michael brushed up against my arm, trying to act cool.

“I’m sure you would have. But Everett here beat you to it.” I turned behind me to give credit where it was due.

He stood there, unmoving, with an unreadable look.

“Look at you, being a knight in shining armor. Who knew?” Michael joked.

“And don’t you forget it.” He half smiled before he grabbed my arm to move me forward. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Though I wanted to stay and visit with these boys all day, the long night was catching up to me, and I was grateful Everett knew what I needed, even before I did.

We were making progress.

“Landon, when you’ve rested up, come find me.” I pulled him into a hug again.

His head nodded against me.

“Thank you for finding me.” He looked at us both now.

Everett spoke up. “Thank Harper. She was the one who knew where you were.”

“How?” Landon asked.

I attempted a smile, but my body exhaustion won, and I felt myself sway.

“Oh, my dear, what a night you’ve been dealt.” Martha’s soothing voice calmed my addled thoughts.

I lost focus as the throbbing intensified. I lost words, but Martha already knew that. She had witnessed flare-ups the size of Mount Rushmore. In between filling up the bathtub and getting linens, she’d rubbed my back in circles, as I held myself at the waist. Every muscle tightened around my joints—it pounded like a jackhammer. The exertion burned. My muscles constricted, shooting electric jolts of pain throughout my body.

“Do you need any help?” Her watery eyes sank, and it was my undoing. I loathed the thought of her worrying over me.

I closed my eyes, my shoulders wilted, and I shook my head.

“I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, just call. I left your cell on the counter.”

I nodded, my eyelids heavy.

“I love you like my own, sweetheart. Please don’t suffer alone. Let us help.” 

I’d come here to be helpful, to make a difference, to find some peace and clarity. Not to end up bedridden and dependent. 

I undressed as swiftly as my stiff and aching body could support and sank deep into the steaming water until it swallowed me up to my neck. The heat sent chills down to my toes. My shoulders melted into the warm porcelain. Briefly, I ignored the hard material digging into my bones.

As pathetic as it sounded, I wanted my mom. She always knew what to do or how to help me in these situations. Having to bear it alone fueled the emptiness inside me. I craved that connection right now; not having to explain myself or ask what I need. She just knew, and I wasn’t completely alone.

Choking back soft sobs, I covered my mouth as my eyes closed tightly, the tears falling willingly.

I attempted to take a deep breath, inhaling what I was grateful for and exhaling the pain and exhaustion. Instead, nothing could be soothed. Not my brittle joints or my weary will.

What would it be like to not have to feel this way?

It was the night that would never end. First Landon ran away, then the beginning of a flare up. Getting stuck in the rain with no gas or reception. Overcoming a fear of riding horses, and my encounter with Everett. Then, finding Landon. So many things that added up to pure exhaustion—mind, body, and soul.

The important thing was Landon was safe. That was all that mattered. He was home, where he belonged, with us. I prayed he wasn’t in earshot. I didn’t want him to think I was upset with him running away.

I let myself feel everything I needed to feel, the highs and the lows. The initial fear leading to relief. The extreme pain and hopelessness, to eventual respite.

I cried for Landon, for the sadness he must have felt to run away from people who loved him. I cried for the thought of what could’ve been. He could’ve been hurt, lost for days on end, taken.

I cried for the unending pain that had enveloped me since yesterday as we searched high and low for a missing child.

I cried for the pain deadening as the salts and warmth enveloped my joints, the relief inexplicable.

I cried for the heaviness of wishing things weren’t this way and that I didn’t have to be this person.

I cried because I desperately wanted to be loved in my flawed body, and I didn’t think it was possible.

When the tears were gone and the respite comforted me, my body mass became heavy, like bricks were layered under my skin, and I couldn’t move to get out of the bath.

I cursed under my breath—which I rarely did.

My chin trembled as the tears began to flow all over again. I needed to sleep this off, but how would I get to my bed? My phone was too far away.

I turned my focus on the black and white checkered flooring, attempting to breathe slowly again.

I heard a knock, and relief flooded me.

“Harp?” Everett’s voice was on the other side.

I covered my face with my hands. Of all the people to be available.

“Harp, it’s me. Are you okay in there?” His faded voice was filled with concern.

“No.” I spoke faintly.

“I’m going to come in. Is that all right?” he asked. I looked around, realizing I had nothing to cover myself.

“Close your eyes!” I yelped.

Hearing a chuckle, I wrapped my arms around my breasts. He walked in, closing the door behind him, eyes fully shut.

“How can I help?” His question delicate.

“I can’t lift myself,” my wobbling voice confessed as more tears brimmed my eyes. The nerves pricked my cheekbones like finger pinches.

“Don’t cry, Harp. I can’t bear it.” He turned and lifted a towel from the countertop, peeking through one eyelid. He lifted the towel in full, facing me in the tub. “I’m going to lift you from your arms to stand and wrap you in the towel. I promise to keep my eyes closed if you tell me where to go.”

He used the towel under his hands, and I directed him to where I was. He placed each hand under my armpits, and I’d never been so exposed. Lifting me up onto my feet, I held back my cry from the pain weighing on them now. He wrapped me gingerly in the towel as I held on to the end, squeezing the connecting ends together. Fully covered, my hand gripped tightly on the edge of the porcelain. I gave him permission to look to help me out of the tub. I expected him to lend me his arm as I maneuvered over to the side, but without warning, he placed an arm under my knees, and the other around my shoulders, lifting me straight up and into his arms.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered.

“I know.” He spoke confidently.

I opened the door with my hand, and he guided me through the threshold, across the hall, and into my room, shutting the door with his foot behind him. He laid me softly on the bed, wrapping the fluffy down-comforter around my shivering form, calming my chilled skin.

“Where are your clothes?”

“In the third drawer from the left.”

He opened the drawer and picked out some comfortable pieces, placing them on top of me as he spoke. “Here.” And he turned around.

I managed to change my clothes slowly underneath the comforter.

The air was thick with heat, and several moments passed before he asked if I was finished. He turned to face me while I lay like an invalid on top of my heating pad, under the covers, leaning up against the headboard.

“Can I stay?” was all he had to ask before more emotions bubbled to the surface.

“Why?” I weakly asked.

“Because…” He fumbled. “Because I want to.”

31

HARPER

I couldn’t think of one good reason to force him to leave, so I nodded, and his shoulders relaxed. I patted the empty space next to me, and he made himself comfortable on the end of the bed, facing me. I couldn’t read his expression.

Why would he want to be here right now instead of spending his day teaching and doing what he loved?

My eyelids grew heavy, but I didn’t dare risk losing this time to converse with him. I was desperate to know what he was thinking. He was here when he could be in a million other places. I wasn’t about to take that for granted.

“I heard you.” He spoke up. “Outside the door. I heard you crying, and it broke me.”

Shame heated my face, and I sank deeper into my pillow. “Please don’t feel sorry for me, Everett,” I mumbled, fighting back more tears that I hadn’t even known I had left in me.

“I don’t. Your pain is my pain. Your tears are my tears. It’s always been that way, Harp. I sat outside the door and wept with you.”

Silence brimmed the space between us. I didn’t dare share how much it meant that someone had cried on behalf of my pain. Loneliness enveloped me so often that I’d grown used to being trapped in my thoughts, inside this body of mine.

I closed my eyes as a tear fell. How I had any left was a mystery. He moved closer, wiping it away.

“Do you remember the day everything changed?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

That fateful day would always bring sadness. The day they had chosen to leave and never come back. I hadn’t realized how long that gaping hole of emptiness would fill me from my brother’s best friend leaving him—leaving me, leaving us.

“When I walked in the door, you didn’t ask me a single question, or even want to know how I was feeling. You just ran into my arms.” He spoke in a quiet manner. “I was a full head taller than you, and you probably thought I was the one holding you up. Between your pain and learning about how awful my dad was and seeing my mom’s face being beaten, it was a lot on your young shoulders. The thing was, Harp, you didn’t even know you were the one holding me up.”

We looked at each other, the heaviness in our gaze weighed us down as we relived a hard memory of his parents’ abuse and the experience was shared. I felt his pain, as he did mine.

“That was the first time you saw it, but the abuse had been happening my entire life. Younger than I even remember or could even realize it was happening. My mom got pretty good at covering it up with lies and make up. I always knew my dad was an angry drinker. So, I thought that if I just avoided him when he drank, all would be well. I would hibernate in my room until the time passed, and he was sleeping it off. The problem was, I didn’t know he was hurting my mom during it. I was ten when I first noticed. But even then, she brushed it off, always sticking up for him. Once I got older, I’d try to find ways to postpone it or have my mom not be around when he was drunk. I could follow the cycles pretty well. But that time, it was worse than ever.” He paused.

“The asshole knew I wasn’t home and did it while I was gone. I came home to it late at night and couldn’t stand the constant pounding on my mom. I walked over, pushed him into the wall, and hit him so hard the hat was knocked out.”

I put my hand on his arm, stroking it slowly in reassuring moves.

“That was when my mom came to fetch your dad. She knew she could no longer hide it or deal with it, and I think she was afraid that the longer she stayed, the more I would turn out like him.”

“No,” I blurted out. “That is absolutely wrong.”

“Hear me out, girl.” He hid a chuckle, and I shut my mouth. “I think she just needed an excuse to leave. I’m so grateful she did, no matter the reasoning. It helped us both to leave, seeing how I would have never left her otherwise.” He looked out the window beside us, taking a breath. “She moved in with my grandma in Washington, and she’s taken care of her since we left. Once I knew the man was locked up and she was far away, I could finally leave and try to make it on my own.”

“Ev, that’s incredibly brave.” Everett’s devotion to his mom was always one of my favorite things about him. The fact that he suffered so much alone hurt me like it was happening to me.

“It took years and twelve months in therapy before I realized I would never be anything like him. It wasn’t just in my DNA. I wasn’t bound to be like him just because we shared the same blood. The fear comes now and then, but being here with these boys helps me find a little more confidence in that. I can make the choice to not be like him.” He took my hand in his, stroking with his thumb.

“But anytime I get angry, which isn’t very often, it’s always out of fear. And then that fear turns into hatred because it makes me think of him, and I worry that if I let it get the best of me, I will have the same issues. It’s a daily choice, and some days, I’m not as good at fighting it.”

“It’s why you don’t drink, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yeah. And why I’ve had no contact with him since we left Arizona. The farther away he is, the better.” He fiddled with the cuff on his wrist, our hands still intertwined. “We tend to show our worst sides to the people we care about the most. I’ve seen it time and time again with these boys. I’m happy they have a safe place to land and get their feelings out, but it is hard not to take it personally at times, that I’m doing something wrong, or am not enough for them.”

“Am I a safe place to land for you?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking directly at me. “You and your brother. You’re both the family I didn’t know I needed, and I thank the good Lord every day that I have you two.”

“I’m glad.” I tried to smile. Was he putting me in the same category as my brother? Did he see me as a sister?

“I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away so much. I don’t fully understand why.”

“I forgive you. And I need you to understand that I want to be here. I might not fully grasp how you feel or what you’ve been through, but I’ve seen enough to understand and have compassion.”

He looked up at me expectantly.

“I knew you had hit him back that day.”

“How?” His eyes widened.

“After I hugged you, I didn’t want to let you go. Somehow, I knew deep down that it would be the last time I would see you. So, I grabbed a hold of your arms and then your hands, and I felt the rough patches against your knuckles. They were bloodied. And inside, I screamed, Go you.” I smiled at the remembrance.

“You really did notice more than anyone, didn’t you?” The corner of his lips curved upward.

“It was you that had ruined Jared and Ben’s time at the dance for me, wasn’t it?” I remembered what Jasper had told me.

He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

“And I knew it was you who wanted me to learn how to drive, I just didn’t put all of it together.”

“I made Jasper swear not to tell.”

“He didn’t have to.” I caressed my hand up and down his arm, causing him to shiver.

“I did it all for you.”

“I know,” I said. “He did mention once that you had a soft spot for me.”

“That’s an understatement.” He caressed my jaw as I spoke.

“I always thought you wanted to be the older brother to a sibling you never had,” I said.

He shook his head. We sat in silence for some time, and my eyes grew heavier. I had been awake for twenty-four hours, minus the few minutes in the truck, and the drowsiness from it and the medicine was taking its effect.

“Now, about this morning…” he started.

The air shifted. Was he taking this sibling thing seriously? Was he going to chastise me? Or was he about to tell me he couldn’t handle being my caretaker and wanted nothing to do with me? I honestly couldn’t tell.

“I need you to know a few things.” He started the conversation, and I swallowed, fully prepared to be rejected and left alone.

This was always how it happened. Anyone would act interested until they saw the life they were about to be stuck with if they kept getting to know me, and they ran—along with a piece of me.

“I need you to know, Harp, that what you did this morning was incredible.”

I arched my brows.

“You, despite what anyone else had told you, followed your gut instinct because of how you care deeply for others and listen to what they say, and you found a boy who could have been missing for days.” He scratched his jaw before continuing, “You managed to do that, all while having a flare-up. Do you realize what a big deal that is?”

I shook my head, lost to what he was trying to tell me.

“Harp, you overcame a fear tonight. You got up on that horse—literally—and kept riding, even though you were scared, even though you had been told never to do so, even though you were already in a lot of pain.” His eyes widened. “You defeated all odds, went against doctor’s orders, and lived. Truly shone during a dark moment. You made the choice to do something hard, knowing the consequences could be fatal, and you did it.”

In my mind, it all made sense. Of course I would do whatever was necessary to keep Landon safe. Of course I would ignore all the things I’d been told never to do. But in reality, when had I ever done something like that before? I’d made a choice, and I’d turned out just fine. Nothing bad had happened to me.

“I might not know everything that has happened since high school with you, but I grew up watching you, and knowing you. Whether you noticed or not. I never once saw you do something that would risk your health negatively or something your parents would deem unsafe to that severity.”

It was true. I never did things I’d been asked not to. I was scared and a people-pleaser. Both were a deadly combination for my well-being.

“Even though you were probably terrified, you trusted me, and you got onto that horse, and you relaxed against me. That means you felt brave in your decision, and you put your trust in me. That is not something I take lightly.”

This was the most open I had heard him since arriving. I did trust him. I trusted him because of who he was and who he had been in my life and in my brother’s life. I trusted him because I believed in him and what he was capable of. And I trusted him because I liked him, and I knew my soul could no longer deny the feelings growing deeply inside of me. Everett had been a part of me for as long as I could remember, and that had turned into a deep respect and admiration, which had turned into feelings unexplained.

“Thank you, Everett.” My eyes filled with tears, and my heart hummed. “I do trust you.”

“I hold that closely.” He cleared his throat, as if he were trying to gain the courage to continue. “But let me ask you something. What if you weren’t a sick person?”

“What do you mean? I can’t not have this ailment, Everett. It’s a part of me.”

“Yes, it’s in your DNA, and it does affect your life. But what if you made the conscious choice to not let it define you anymore?”

It hit me, like a slap in the face. Not define me? How could I not let it define me? I wanted to believe every word he shared. I had done something I’d never done before. I made a choice. A conscious choice. I followed through with that choice, and it led me to something greater. All of which had grown into feeling braver and more confident in myself. Was that what he meant?

“Small choices. Like fighting it when you don’t want to. Getting up when you’d rather not. Trying something scary, damn the consequences, in order to actually live a life worth living, not just surviving.”

I let his words swirl, igniting inside me. The strength to not to let it define me. To not give up. Choosing to keep going. Making life worth living, not just surviving. 

The realization was powerful, like inheriting the strength of Zeus. Nothing could stop me.

But this all coming from Everett, the elusive, non-talkative man who wouldn’t even open up to me about his life. The man who had been a part of my dreams and my memories since a child, and yet he only willingly let me in once, on that porch that night. How could that be?

“Can I ask you the same thing?” Frustration raged inside me. “I hear you, and I love what you are saying—I won’t disregard that. But what I don’t understand is how you can sit here and tell me this, and not see what you are capable of.”

Now, it was his turn to be silent.

“You are hiding away from your life here. You avoid any type of real connection and contact with anyone that could last longer than a program here at the ranch, in your life. You literally change lives, but you still see so much fault in yourself.”

He looked down at our hands, and the silence was deafening.

“You can’t sit here and tell me what I am capable of overcoming when you aren’t willing to do the same thing.” I spoke with love, and softness, but I wouldn’t back down.

“You’re right,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“You are right.” He spoke more confidently. “I can’t say this to you without telling myself the same thing.”

I wanted to tell him everything I thought, everything I hoped he would understand and to truly know how incredible he was.

“You don’t even realize how incredibly strong, courageous, kind, loving, and talented you are, Everett.” I placed my other hand on his face in doubt, not knowing if he would allow it.

“Why can’t we see what the other person sees in us?” he questioned, his voice low and vulnerable.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve always been so much stronger than you believe you are, Harp.”

He covered my hand and held it firmly against him. His eyes never wavered from mine.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said.

“Finish what?”

“The second thing I needed to tell you, coming in here.”

I swallowed and waited. What more could he possibly want to share?

“I need you to know that when I saw you shivering in the cold and rain, tears streaming down your face, I lost it.”

I watched him intently.

“It took everything in me not to scream at you because I was afraid that something had happened to you. Or could happen to you. Or that you’d been hurt or you were hurting. I was scared because I couldn’t stop myself from wishing I had been the one to keep you safe and warm, tucked away at the ranch. I was scared because I realized how much I needed you. I was scared because”—he squeezed my hand— “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I am right here, safe and sound. You don’t ever have to worry about losing me, Everett. I have always been and will always be right here for you.”

“I know that. Now. It took a while to see what I’d spent my whole life trying to stay away from. But once the memories started flooding in, once I remembered you in your purest form, your kindness, even when we were young, even when I didn’t show it, I realized all along that it was there.”

“What was there?”

“You. You’ve always been there. Even when I didn’t remember or didn’t want to admit it.” The care in his gaze caused my insides to melt. “Then, you showed up here after all this time, and it was like you’d never left. It was like this missing piece of me fit right back in without any warning, and made me feel whole again. I don’t want to lose that.”

“You don’t have to,” I managed to get out.

I wished I could crawl along the bed and sit in his lap, wrapping myself around him and holding him till the day passed. I wished I could move and show him how much he meant to me. How much I wanted him to be a part of my life. But the doubt of who I was crept in. The doubt of being stuck in bed too many times would eventually push him away.

“Neither do you. You don’t have to suffer alone,” he said. He moved forward and kissed me on the forehead. “You need to sleep.”

“Thank you, Everett. For all of this,” I said.

He nodded, kissing my cheek.

“I wish I could stay awake and hold on to this moment longer.”

He shushed me, kissing my cheek and tucking me in. “Get some rest, and I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

Could this be the same man that I had talked to yesterday and kissed a few nights ago? The more opportunity I gave him to talk, without pushing it, the more he was willing to share. This was the Everett I knew. This was what I wanted to hold on to.

I moved my head, kissing him softly on the mouth. “I need you too,” I whispered as my mind drifted.

He stroked my hair before quietly shutting the door behind him.

32

EVERETT

I recalled this beautiful woman I had grown to admire, lying flat and in so much pain but still wanting to listen to my ramblings and all I had to say for the last hour. I racked my brain with unanswered questions as to how someone so pure, so kind, so… untouchable could be cursed with such an all-consuming disease that made her unmovable.

She had known the chances were high that her flare-up could worsen when she left the warmth of that chair downstairs that night. But all she could think about was Landon. Then, when she was clearly in pain, she had mounted a horse she was terrified of being on.

Did it matter that she struggled with this, unbeknownst to anyone here?

No.

It would have made everyone love and admire her more.

I bet in her mind, she thought it would change the way everyone saw her, knowing that she suffered so much. As if she was someone to be cared for instead of the one caring. She would feel like people only saw this ailment and nothing else. Like it defined her and made her something she wasn’t.

Like my broken past. As if somehow ignoring it and not letting anyone know the depths of it made it nonexistent. Made it so that no one could categorize me as broken, worthless, or misunderstood. No matter how many times I closed my eyes, the screaming fights and the sound of slaps would haunt me ’til I died.

I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t want people to know. That must be how Harper felt. She wanted to be accepted for just being herself. Which was easily done. But it didn’t always feel that way.

I had known it was time to open up to her and tell her more of what was in my head and heart. What I had been through. Maybe then she would feel she could do the same with me.

My mom was a wonderful person and had taught me the good that I knew. I looked up to her in a lot of ways, for her strength and resilience and for her ability to finally walk away from something extremely difficult. But what I didn’t understand was how to have a relationship with her now. It seemed easier to just close the door on everything I knew and move forward.

Then, Harper had shown back up in my life, making me question everything I’d thought to be right.

Sometimes our circumstances defined us more than we were willing to admit. They shaped us, molded us, and made us who we were. We could allow that to be positive, something that could create new and beautiful experiences. Or we could turn it negative and fall into patterns of self-despair. The choice was ours.

She’d chosen the former. And then she had chosen again.

I wanted to do the same. I wanted her to notice the choice she had already made. I wanted her to see that she was already more than she or her parents or the doctors believed her to be. And I wanted to believe that, someday, I could feel the same about myself.

As I sat there, holding her hand, it took all my willpower not to jump forward and hold her all day, kissing her soft and inviting lips, soothing the aching of my heart. I knew it wasn’t the right time. She needed to rest, and I needed to walk away.

I spent several hours attempting to sleep, and I couldn’t. I tried to make conversation with Jasper and the boys, the day having been canceled from the night’s fiasco, and the focus was far from me. So, I paced. Back and forth for hours, I paced down the hallway until I heard any kind of noise. I would leave, eat some food, and come back and sit with a book outside her door. A few hours later, I left to grab my notebook and sketched out some lyrics while I paced some more.

Night drew close, and darkness covered the sky. Jasper found his way up the stairs and stopped to watch me.

“Hey.” His look of understanding helped me lower my guard. “Have you slept at all?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said.

“Have you been up here all day?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to give me only one-worded answers?”

“Probably.”

He walked to face me head-on. He stood, seriousness in his gaze, worry in his heart. “Everett, I am going to ask you a question, and you’d better answer me straight, or I am going to pound you into the next room.”

“Understandable.” I glanced down before meeting his penetrating stare.

“Are you finally admitting to yourself that you have feelings for my sister?” he asked me.

My breath caught in my throat. Was I really that obvious?

“Yes,” I said confidently, standing at my full height, ready to combat whatever he had to say.

“It’s about damn time!” Jasper gloated, his face turning to a smile, and he hit my shoulder.

“Wait, what?” I asked him in confusion. “What do you mean, it’s about time? And what did you mean by finally admitting it to myself?”

“Ev, you’ve been in love with her since we were kids.” His admittance caused me whiplash.

“I have not.”

“Yes, you have.” He smiled, and I wanted to smack him. “I honestly didn’t think it would take this long for you to see it, but seeing how you came here and didn’t want her to know about it, I knew the feelings were just as strong as ever.”

“I don’t understand. How did you possibly know if I just barely admitted it to myself fifteen hours ago?” I asked.

“Whether you knew what love was or not, you have always cared for her more than just a brother would,” he said knowingly. “The way you look at her, it’s never changed. Not since we were sixteen and carrying her up to the tree house or eighteen and wrecking guys’ cars for not taking her to the dance. You never wanted to do a single thing with me at our house without her.”

Realization dawned on me, and flashes of memories flooded in like a river. Sitting with her, holding her hand, carrying her, sneaking her out of the house, seeking revenge on others who had wronged her. Each one a picture, like a slide show, running through my head.

“Why do you think it never worked out with Rachel or any other woman you’ve dated? It’s not because you are broken. It’s because your heart doesn’t belong to anyone else.”

My legs grew heavy and gave way underneath me. I slid down the wall and sat on the ground, allowing the floor to hold me up.

“What the hell?” I moaned. “You’re right. How could I have not realized it sooner?”

“I knew you would eventually.” He came and sat down next to me, arms hanging over his knees. “When I first realized it, I didn’t want to admit it to myself either. It seemed weird and creepy. But as we got older, I just embraced it. I knew her coming here would break through your walls eventually.” He laughed. “Why else did you think I let you watch over her while the rest of us stayed away all day?”

“Stop being so smug and shut up for a minute. I’m trying to think.”

“While you do that, I’m going to go check on her.” He moved to her door and paused. “Oh, and, Everett?”

“Yeah?”

“If you hurt her, I will never forgive you, and you’ll have to find somewhere else to work.” All laughter was gone from his voice as his hand sat on his hip. “I’m serious. She deserves for you to be one hundred percent, and if you can’t do that, walk away now.”

“Noted.” I didn’t have the smallest desire to walk away.

He walked through the door, leaving it ajar, I listened to muffled sounds on the other side. I had loved Harper my entire life, and I hadn’t even realized it. This magnetic pull, the feeling of being understood, the obsession with wanting to know where she was and how she was doing, the desire I had to make sure she knew how important and powerful she was, it wasn’t just concern or care. It was love. Caring about her well-being over my own.

So, this was what love felt like.

Minutes trickled in like hours before he left her room.

I stood abruptly. “I have to tell her.”

“Wait.”

I shoved the door in his face, locking it, and when I turned around slowly, my breath left me.

I took a second to watch her. She sat up with a headboard full of pillows. The blanket covered her as the sweatshirt she wore swallowed her whole. Her hair was piled messily atop her head with her adorable, black-rimmed glasses covering her sweet, clean face. Perfection. Did she realize how naturally beautiful she was? Probably not. I’d almost kissed her the first time she questioned it.

Could she possibly see through the man who stood before her now?

I hated to admit it, but I didn’t always see things so clearly. My childhood had been rough. My teenage years were rough. Music saved me, and then I left. I’d left behind people who cared about me to reach for something—anything—to help the aching to decelerate.

But I still hurt. I still felt broken.

People who were supposed to love you and take care of you tended to do that sometimes.

It wasn’t until I had fallen flat on my face after doing everything I could to be someone that I realized I needed help. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my parents had. I didn’t want to be haunted by my past. I’d made necessary changes to strive for a better life.

In the back of my head, I always thought of Harper. Her example. Her willingness to smile while her body screamed in pain. What kind of supernatural creature was this?

I’d always seen her as the ridiculously irresistible person she was. But now, I truly saw her. The girl I adored had grown into a woman I now loved.

“Hey,” I managed as I stepped closer.

“Hey.” She eyed me wearily but then smiled.

My heart skipped a beat.

Something altered between us. The dam had been broken, the floodgate was wide open, an unspeakable truce lay between us. Even more than the tension always brewing beneath the surface whenever we were near each other.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as I sat carefully next to her, trying not to move the bed too much.

Ever since I had seen Harper, I’d found my thoughts wandering to hopeful things. My future. Her. Me. Happy. I could see myself falling deeper and deeper for this girl, fully and willingly. Would she be willing to take me on? Knowing my history, knowing what I had come from and what I feared. Would she want to walk alongside me through the good and the bad?

How would you know if you don’t ever try?

The question had been floating in my mind for weeks now. I wished I could go back and redo every interaction I had with Harper. She didn’t deserve my malice. Especially on something she didn’t even know about or understand.

She made me want to be better. I wanted to try. I would try.

I let my guard down. I’d kissed her. I opened the doorway for hope. Now, I sat here, next to her in the dark. The only light shone from the television. How did I get here?

“Better.” She smiled faintly. “How are you?”

“Better now.”

My pulse quickened, and I grabbed her hand. She took mine willingly, and a breath of relief filled my lungs.

“Were you not okay before?” Her voice, filled with concern, warmed me.

“If we’re being honest, I’ve been worried about you.”

“Oh.” She sounded defeated. “I wondered what would happen when everyone found out about my AS.”

“No. Don’t mistake what I am trying to say. Of course, I’ve been worried for your well-being and wanting you to physically feel better, as the rest of the boys are.” I squeezed her hand as I tried to get her to make eye contact with me. “But I’ve worried over you every day since you arrived. Even before I was reunited with you.” I turned my weight toward her.

“What do you mean?”

Here goes nothing.

“You scare me, Harper.” There, I’d admitted it. No turning back now.

“I told you I didn’t mean to with the whole breaking-down thing.” She scrunched her face.

“I know. That’s not what I meant. You, yourself, scare me.”

“I promise I’m the least scary person you’ll ever meet.” She attempted to humor me, but I saw the sincerity in her eyes. “Well, if we’re being honest,” she mimicked me, “you scare me too, Everett.”

Her revelation hit me like the time a baseball had hit me right in the stomach in the middle of a game.

“I don’t see you being scared of anything,” I whispered.

“That’s the funny thing about fear. It comes when you least expect it. Even when you think you’re brave.”

I let that soak in.

“I can’t promise you that it’ll be easy, but I can promise you that I am here to try.”

I smiled deviously, and her eyes squinted as her heart-shaped lips curved upward, causing my heart to pound harder.

“I want to make something perfectly clear before I ask something from you.”

“Okay, shoot.” She turned slightly toward me.

“Seeing you in full flare-ups and in huge amounts of pain doesn’t change a single thing about how I see you.”

“And how do you see me?” Vulnerability hung in her voice.

I promised myself right then that I would never break her trust.

“As absolute perfection.”

She made a sound. “That’s impossible. I literally can’t even walk alone right now.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Trust me, this is not something you want to saddle yourself with.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s been said to me many times.”

“Harper, I don’t think you are grasping what I am saying,” I argued with her.

Clearly, she had never met someone willing to fight for her.

“I guess not.”

“I have thought of you since I was an awkward thirteen-year-old boy. Those thoughts grew into appreciation, which grew into fascination, which then grew into adoration.” I paused while she held her breath. I lifted my hand to her face, cupping the side of her cheek. “Now, that adoration has turned into pure and simple love. You make me want to be an even better person. Everything that happened just made me realize that I needed to stop being a pansy and finally tell you. And I don’t want you to say anything back.”

“But—”

“I’m falling for you, Harper.”

I couldn’t think of a more honest way of saying it. I might not know what to do from here, and I might not ever be good enough for her or worthy of her love and admiration, but I was going to try. She deserved to feel loved, to feel cherished. For her, as a human being, as a woman with a beating heart under her beautifully sculpted, flawed body. The person I had grown to care for regardless of any diagnosis.

Screw my past.

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do.” I pulled her face an inch closer as I leaned forward.

“What were you going to ask of me?”

“Can I kiss you?”

As silly as it was to ask, I wanted to make sure she wanted it as much as I did. She already had no control over her body. I wanted to give her the knowledge that I respected what happened to her body and wanted her full consent.

She nodded with tears streaming down her face, and that was all I needed to move forward and place my mouth over her soft pink lips. Her breath heightened as her hand clenched my sleeve tightly. I wanted to devour her whole.

Every breath. Every inhale. Every touch.

Her other hand found its way around my neck, and I pulled her closer, trying to be as gentle as possible as my mouth never left hers. I kissed her upper lip slowly, then her lower. Then repeated the same all-encompassing kiss with more fervency. My pulse quickened, and heat wrapped around me, stoked like a fire. I wanted to grab her and pull her down on me, but I had to remember what she needed. I had to restrain. The intensity building within me was difficult. This kiss was hours, days, weeks of buildup, not the same as our first.

It was better than I had imagined. A thousand times in my head on replay. As each second passed, a tiny piece of ice around my heart was chiseled away. This was scary as hell. I had to tread lightly. I didn’t want to freak myself out or make her bolt before I even had a chance to woo her.

I placed both hands on her face, kissing her roughly as I inhaled every scent of her. Memorizing every centimeter of her mouth before I unwillingly pulled back. I placed my head against hers while I caught my breath.

“That was well worth the wait,” she whispered.

Another piece chipped. Falling down. Down. Down. Blood pulsing strong and vibrant, bringing color to my soul.

“Don’t tempt me, or I won’t be able to stop.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” she said as I opened my eyes, staring into hers. Those eyes caused all tension to evaporate my body, leaving me in awe. It was deeper than anything I had ever experienced.

Could her soul be seeing mine?

I needed to pace myself.

“I should go,” I reluctantly said.

“Please don’t,” she begged. “I promise I won’t let you kiss me again. Just stay a little longer. I love the company.”

I could see the piece of loneliness in her request.

There was nowhere else I’d rather be.

I leaned against the headboard as I moved my arm to go around her shoulders, pulling her close to me. “What are we watching?” I asked as she smiled again and laid her head on my shoulder.

“Have you ever seen Gilmore Girls?” she asked me.

“Never heard of it.”

“Well, it’s only one of the greatest shows made. I’ve rewatched the series five times now, and there are seven seasons.”

“What’s it about?”

“A single mother and daughter relationship.”

“Hmm,” I managed.

“I promise it isn’t as bad as it sounds.” She wrapped her arm around my torso, holding me close.

I didn’t care if I was watching a documentary on childbirth right now. As long as she was touching me like this, I would stay here forever.

And that was exactly what we did—watched episodes until all hours of the morning. We talked about life, laughed over episodes, argued sweetly over who Rory should pick, all while she was wrapped up in my arms.

It had been a long time since I’d felt so calm and safe. So desperate to make someone smile that I would move mountains in order to obtain it. I regretted all the time wasted between us, because of years of doubt and insecurity. That changed right now. I chose her, and nothing else mattered.

I left her sleeping soundly before the house was awake. And with each step I took away from her, another piece of my ice-cold heart cracked and broke, falling fast and hard.

Down… down… far from me.

33

EVERETT

THEN

I heard the crying as I walked in the front door of the Masons’ home. It didn’t take long to realize whose screams they were. My chest ached to breathe, and my feet broke out in a run before I realized it was happening. I swung the door to Harper’s room open, and the picture in front of me would forever haunt me.

Harper was gasping for air as Jasper held on to her side, her dad on the other, trying to hold her still. Carolyn was on the phone in the opposite corner with the doctor on the other line. Dark circles were under her eyes. It had taken its toll.

“The medicine is having a reverse effect. Jasper, I need you to try to keep her calm.” Phil spoke to his son in soft, hushed tones while Harper continued to scream. He was placing cool cloths on her neck and trying to rub the tension from her legs.

“I’m trying, Dad, but it’s like she can’t hear me. Nothing’s getting through.” He was using force to hold her down as her body thrashed and jolted. Her eyes swollen shut from the tears soaking her sheets.

“I can’t—I can’t breathe. I—” she cried out.

“She’s having a panic attack from the side effects. I’ll go grab some supplements to try to calm her down.” Carolyn spoke with her hand over the microphone as she walked out.

“Shh. I know, sis. I know. Try to take a deep breath. I am going to—” Jasper attempted to talk, and I interrupted.

“What can I do?” I asked aggressively.

Everyone’s head swiveled in my direction, confusion on their faces. They had been unaware of my presence.

“I don’t know, son.” Phil spoke lovingly, like he always did, using a term of endearment even though he wasn’t my father. It always made me feel important when I didn’t feel that from my own dad. “She’s never had a panic attack before. None of us have. We don’t know what to do.”

An idea dawned on me as I remembered my mom having a similar experience after a bad beating. The situation wasn’t nearly the same—she had paced the floor, not been stuck in a bed—but maybe the effect could be the same.

Turning my back, I ran out the door and back toward my car and grabbed my guitar.

Working my way into her room, I asked, “Can I sit by her?”

The worry in Phil’s eyes was enough to break my heart, but I still wanted to try. He nodded his head and slowly backed away from his place by her side.

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. Please, someone help me. I don’t want to do this anymore,” Harper cried out.

I placed my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Harper, it’s Everett. I’m here, and I want you to know… I’m not going anywhere.”

I released her hand and looked over to Jasper, who held her other hand as he encouraged me to try. I lifted my guitar and softly plucked away at some chords, waiting for her reaction. She didn’t object, so I continued. Playing one chord after another, I turned it into a song I knew she loved: “The Scientist.”

I didn’t sing. I didn’t change the song. I played it over and over again as I saw her chest rise and fall in a more regular rhythm. The thrashing stopped, and I kept playing. Jasper stroked her hair and spoke reassuring words to her, praying over her and changing out the cold cloths. Carolyn made it back in and rubbed some oils on her—lavender, I thought—while Phil stood behind me, hand on my shoulder in reassurance. I played and played. It seemed like hours had passed, but her breathing slowed, her tears stopped, and eventually, we all took in a long breath, believing her to have fallen asleep.

Everyone thanked me for coming when I had and for playing for her, but I just shrugged it off. I never liked praise. I’d just wanted to help. Carolyn left to make everyone some much-needed dinner. We took shifts, sitting by Harper. They offered me some dinner, but I didn’t want any. I sat next to her, and I didn’t leave. Just like I’d promised.

It was Jasper’s turn to sit with her, and I told him he needed to go get some sleep. I was happy to do it. His room was right next to hers, but he still chose to sleep on the floor. I continued to play different songs and even came up with a new tune. My eyes were heavy, but I sat in that chair and didn’t move.

I heard muttering coming from Harper, and I inched my way closer to her.

“Thank you, Everett. Thank you.” That was all I heard her say before she fell back asleep.

Harper

NOW

“Can you not take all my caramel M&M’s?” I swatted Jasper’s hand away as he sat next to me in my massive bed.

I was spending the day recovering from this flare-up. He’d shown up at my door, his hands full of all our favorite snacks, and the memories of our old regular movie nights had flooded in.

“Not a chance,” he refused and managed to sneak past me, grabbing a handful and popping them in his mouth.

“Well then, I get your sour watermelons.” I snatched up the bag from his lap and grinned triumphantly.

“Fair enough. How about I give you the watermelon willingly and raise you two Red Vines for your sour cream and onion Pringles?”

“Two? Who do you think I am? An amateur? Please. I’ll take four and give you half the can.”

“Deal.”

We shook on it, as if it were of serious nature, and turned our attention back to the movie at hand. The Proposal was one of our favorites, and luckily, it had enough humor that Jasper didn’t ruin the entire movie with his commentary, like other movies I loved. We continued our weekly movie night at the ranch, and the time spent here continued to feel more like home.

“The cheesier, the better,” he would always say.

He would spend the next hour and a half adding all his own commentary, as if he could have written the movie better. I never minded it though. I just loved not being alone.

One night during my sophomore year, it had been a bad week. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom by myself. Jasper was supposed to go to homecoming with his friend, Madeline. He came in to say goodbye, saw how sad I was that I couldn’t attend, and ditched the dance to sit with me. I couldn’t begin to count how many times I had told him to leave, live his life, and enjoy what I couldn’t. But it didn’t matter. For some reason, he always had this desire to never make me feel sad or alone.

I thanked God every night that I had a brother like him. I knew I was fortunate, and I knew he was in my family to help take care of me. He had saved me more moments than I could count. I never felt deserving of his constant love.

As I sat in this gorgeous, large bed with him next to me, all six foot two of him, doing the same thing, tears of gratitude stung my eyes.

“Sandra Bullock is so dang classy. I just love her.” I blinked back at the waterworks.

“Let’s not forget, she is bangin’ hot, even as she ages.”

“Seriously? Did you just use the word bangin’ to describe a legendary actress?”

“Serious as a heart attack. I have eyes.” He tried to provoke me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“I think you have been around teenage boys too much.” I giggled. “Can we talk about how sexy Ryan Reynolds is in this movie then?” If anyone could see my eyes, they would have hearts in them.

“Only because you are correct in your assessment. Attraction is the byproduct of humor.” He popped more candy in his mouth before continuing, “Not to mention his eight pack. If I had time to work out like him and looked like that, I would have all the ladies in town swooning.”

“What, all five of them?”

“Nine, to be exact.”

“I would love to see this.”

“Give it time. You still have a few weeks here.” He patted me as if I needed patience to calm down.

“For you to get an eight-pack? In your dreams, big bro.” I slapped his leg forcefully back.

“You don’t think I can do it?”

I just shook my head.

“Challenge accepted.”

I tried hard to hide my laugh, but it trickled out.

“In all seriousness, I bet the girls are already swooning.”

“Probably.”

He looked over and winked like he owned the room. I swatted the hat off his head and stuffed my mouth full of chips.

“Why don’t you have a certain someone in your life anyway?” I tried to bring it up as if it weren’t a big deal, but I was dying to know the answer.

He paused for a moment. “I suppose I just haven’t had the time to look.”

“Well, maybe I can be of service to you. Give me some of your chores so you can have the time to go looking.”

“Sure thing, sis.” That was his way of saying, Yeah, right. Get lost.

I knew I had lost the battle. But I wouldn’t give up. I was certain to win the war.

I moaned. “We are going to regret all this crap tomorrow, you know.”

“We always do. But at least we have tonight.” Jasper’s mantra for life.

That was a saying we repeated when we were doing something we knew we weren’t supposed to. Jasper was always pushing the limits for me to be free or experience new things. One night, when I was fifteen, he had snuck me out of my bed and carried me into his truck, and we drove around till three in the morning—way past curfew—and sang at the top of our lungs. It was just the medication I needed to fight the pain that week.

We had both been grounded for two weeks after that, but we always said, “At least we have tonight.”

I smiled. Being back with Jasper after a year of not seeing him was therapeutic. His goodness, his laughter, his willingness to love his sometimes-pathetic little sister was healing.

“At least we have tonight.”

“So, are you going to keep pretending like nothing’s going on and I don’t know anything?” Jasper’s serious tone alerted my senses.

I lifted my shoulder, but I knew he knew me better.

“Come on, Harp. We used to talk all the time.”

“Never about this stuff. Never about… Everett,” I argued.

“In this sense, no, I guess not. But we are adults here, and we can talk about it.”

“Everett and I had a breakthrough.” I paused. “We both realized we had pushed each other away. Because of how hurt we both were when he disappeared, we talked through the reasons why.”

“And?” he asked expectantly.

“And we realized we have feelings for each other.”

“How big of feelings?”

“Deep ones. Real deep.” I blushed.

“So, you finally told him about his missing bracelet?” He smirked as my eyes widened.

“How did you—”

“Oh, come on. He was my best friend. Of course I recognized something he had worn every day on your ankle.” He stuffed his face with a handful of candy.

“You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” I looked down, not ashamed, but a bit embarrassed.

He nodded.

“Did you ever think we would be here now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, growing up, it could have just been infatuation with both of you being so young. Though it never felt that way with how you both would sacrifice so much just to see the other person smile. But neither of you did anything about it, which made me think you had no idea how the other person felt or even how you felt yourself. It wasn’t my place to show it to you. I always hoped we would all find our way back to each other.”

“The Three Musketeers.” I giggled.

“I hated when Dad called us that.” He moaned.

“Me too. We were inseparable though.” I took a bite. “I always appreciated you letting me tag along even though I was the annoying little sister.”

“I never found you annoying.”

I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

“Okay, maybe sometimes. But more times than not, it was just nice that my two favorite people got along. I loved having you both around.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yeah, I do.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “That’s why I really don’t mind this. Somehow, it just feels natural. Like it was always supposed to happen this way.”

“Thank you, Jasper. For letting me come here to find another piece of myself. For always being there for me. For supporting whatever this is between me and Everett.” I smiled at him. “I don’t deserve such an amazing brother.”

“That’s debatable,” he joked. “Just call me Mr. Nice Guy.”

“You really know how to ruin a good moment, don’t you?”

“Sometimes all the seriousness is too much for me.” He threw an M&M in the air and caught it in his mouth. He really would always be a big kid. “If he does anything to break your heart though, I swear I will kill him.”

“No, you won’t. You love him too much,” I argued.

“I do, but I love you more. You are blood, and that is the strongest.” He tried to act serious but shook his head instead. “In all honesty though, just tread carefully and slowly. He’s seen more than we know, and I know he’s worked through a ton, but trauma is still trauma.”

“I get it. Thanks, Jasp.”

“You got it. Now, let’s finish this movie.”

He popped more candy in his mouth and continued to make fun of every scene in the movie. I laughed and left a smile on my face.

34

HARPER

My thoughts were buzzing around like a persistent bee.

What in the world was going on? Everyone was acting strange. Everyone was constantly smiling around me at the dinner table.

Everyone knew, and it changed how they thought about me. My chest sank in.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Why did I have to have a poor reaction to one night in the cold? I wanted to hit my head against the table, but instead, I plastered on a smile right back. At least now, I could finally have that talk with Landon. Once we finished eating, I would steal him away before the bonfire and focus on something other than this.

“It’s nice to finally have another pretty face back at the dinner table.” Michael smiled triumphantly.

I could tell he was proud of his acknowledgment. Oh, how I’d missed these boys the last few days. How would I ever leave and go back home?

The thought overwhelmed me, like I was walking toward my grave.

“Show-off,” Clarence muttered.

Their banter made me feel like I was home. Would home ever feel like home again when all I wanted was to be here?

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it yourself,” Michael argued, placing his hands behind his head and holding himself high in his chair.

“That’s right. I am constantly jealous of your big ego.” Clarence snorted.

Michael ignored him and faced me again. “What do you think, Harper? Do I have a big head?” He let his hands fall and shrugged his shoulders. “I just acknowledge beauty when I see it. It ain’t a sin.”

“Isn’t,” I corrected and smiled at him. The teacher in me couldn’t handle the slang. Though I wondered if he had done it on purpose so I would correct him. “There is nothing wrong with healthy self-esteem.”

“See?” Michael flailed his arms out in a gesture of self-importance.

“Yours isn’t healthy,” Clarence argued.

“But,” I interrupted, “if you have to put others down in the process of acknowledging something good in yourself, then it comes from a place of self-doubt. And that is never okay.” I side-eyed Michael and saw his smile deflate. I must have struck a nerve. “Michael, I think you need to see yourself the way I see you. The way I see all of you.” I turned and eyed Clarence and Josh and any boy who would hear me.

“And how’s that?” Michael’s voice was small.

“With complete love and admiration.” I looked deeply at this seventeen-year-old boy looking back at me with doubt. “You each have your own individual worth inside and out. Own it. Acknowledge it. And use it to lift up people around you.”

“Is that what you do?” Landon’s voice creeped up behind me. I hadn’t realized he had been standing there with his plate of food, listening in. His gaze was unwavering. “You know, during your bad days and all.”

I scooted my chair over and patted the space next to me. Landon pulled up a chair and sat down. Eagerly waiting to listen to me without touching his dinner.

What I thought was small talk had turned into a more moving conversation.

“I might fail all the time. We’re only human. But… through my suffering, I try hard to make the good days count. I never want to bring someone else down because of my own insecurities or my own pain. It’s hard enough sometimes to smile through our own grief. Why place that burden upon someone else when we can make them smile instead?”

“That was… deep,” Clarence muttered. His eyes wide and vibrant.

“What does it feel like, Harper?” Landon asked me, scooting closer to me at the table.

I looked up and saw Martha watching us from the kitchen, her eyes glowing, and she nodded in my direction, as if to give me the confidence to share my story.

“My chronic illness?” I asked as he nodded in response. “It’s constant. I always feel something, like a dull ache somewhere in my body. It centers in my spine so my back takes the most hits. But it tends to linger in major joints, like my knees, ankles, wrists, and neck. I think it’s similar to when you’ve overexerted your body and worked out hard, and your muscles tighten and are sore. Except it isn’t in my muscles but my joints; it’s in my bones. With several tools, I’ve learned I can manage it daily. Some days are a lot harder, and that dull ache turns to a throb. During a bad flare-up, that throb turns into stabbing all over, and it’s harder not to cry out in pain. The area usually swells and gets hot and makes it hard to walk, or stand, or sometimes even sit.”

“Damn,” Clarence muttered, and Jasper overheard while loading up boxes to and from the front door.

“Language!” Jasper chided as he walked by.

“Sorry, Jasper,” he mumbled. We all stifled a laugh. “I can’t believe you have dealt with that your whole life. When did it start?” His concern melted my heart.

“I was diagnosed at seven, but I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t hurting.” I shrugged.

“I complain when I get a scratch from mending fences,” Michael said.

“We know,” we all said in unison and smiled at him.

He pouted and raised an eyebrow.

Landon spoke up. “You’re so brave.”

“I’m no braver than anyone else here.” I turned to him. “We’re all brave every day we choose to get up and deal with the hard things in life.”

“The fact that you’ve been here most of the summer and no one even knew—that is saying something. If anyone can put a smile on someone’s face, it’s you,” Michael said charmingly, but I saw the sincerity in his eyes.

I fought back the urge to cry.

Landon grabbed my hand. “I think you are special,” he whispered.

I squeezed his hand back. “I think you are pretty special too.”

He smiled.

“See? My case in point.” Michael leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. His eyes danced in merriment. I threw a roll at him, and he laughed. “If I were ten years older…”

He wiggled his eyebrows, and it made me laugh out loud. This boy was hilarious.

“If you were ten years older, I would bust your lip for looking at Harper like she was a piece of meat,” Everett chimed in, and Michael lifted his hands in surrender.

I turned around to see his back against the wall, arms folded across him, standing in silence, as usual, observing until something needed to be said. My heartbeat picked up, and nausea sank in my stomach.

How could someone make you so happy and so sick to your stomach at the same time?

“Hi.” I tried to hold back my smile so as not to look like the lovesick puppy I felt inside. I bit my lip instead.

“Hey.” He didn’t move.

We just stared. Sharing a moment between us. Memories of the night before flashed before my eyes, and I knew he was thinking of it too. His eyes kept darting down to my mouth, and if we were not in a room full of boys, I would have jumped into his arms.

“Wait a second.” Michael broke through the moment. “What is this?” He almost sounded disgusted as his finger moved in the air between the two of us.

“You two??” Clarence spoke in confusion.

“I knew it!” Landon boasted. His joy was contagious.

I moved my line of sight between the boys and Everett, and he just shrugged his shoulders and faintly smiled.

“That’s why you avoided her for weeks. It’s just like a movie.” Clarence rolled his eyes out of exhaustion. “So unoriginal.”

“Wow. No wonder you didn’t want me making any moves on her,” Michael joked, and Everett stepped forward. It was enough to make him squirm, so he got up from his chair and placed his hands back out in front of him, as if to protect himself. “I’m just kidding.”

Everett stood right behind me now, and I could feel his presence so strongly, as if he were touching me.

“You are looking at the strongest woman I’ve ever met, boys.” I shook my head to disagree, and he kept going. “Harper used to plaster a smile on her face, even when she had just been crying, to come and cheer me up when I came over after a hard day. She barely complains.”

“Wait, you knew her that long ago?” Landon asked.

“Yeah. I was there the day she got diagnosed.” He turned to look at me and grabbed my hand. His gaze was sincere and full of emotion.

“He and Jasper have been best friends most of their lives, and Everett grew up down the street from us.” My chin touched my shoulder while the memories came.

“Sheesh. That’s a really long time,” Landon muttered.

“It is, but that’s the funny thing about time; it doesn’t feel as long ago as it was.” Everett spoke up. “Are you ready to go out?”

“Almost. I just wanted to talk to Landon for a second.”

“Okay. I’ll be right over there. Holler when you’re ready.”

Admiration sat in his look, and I wished I could just sit and stare at him all day.

“Michael, Clarence, come with me,” he demanded, and within seconds, they were up and following his command. Leaving me and Landon to sit alone at the end of the large table.

“Wanna tell me what happened the other night?” I asked sincerely.

“I—I’m embarrassed to.”

“How come?”

“Because you all spent the entire night having to find me after I ran away; I felt terrible when I found out. I hadn’t thought anyone would come.”

“How could you possibly think that no one would come for you? We all love you, Landon.”

“I know. I just…” He paused.

I wanted to give him all the time he needed to convey how he felt. He was safe, and he needed to know that.

“I have been told my whole life that I am loved, but at the end of the day, I am alone. I don’t think I know what love looks like.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m here. Whenever you’re ready.” I placed my hand on his back.

A tear fell from his eye and trickled down his cheek. I reached to wipe it away.

“My dad, well, he hit me a lot. My mom worked all the time and wasn’t home very much, but when she was, he would hit her too. He drank a ton. I would see the shift in his eyes. They would get super red right before it happened. A lot of the time, he would back me up into a corner, screaming at me for something I did wrong, and hit me over and over again. One time, he hit me so hard that I blacked out.” He cleared his throat. “But anytime I tried to talk to him, he would apologize and say I love you and ask me to promise him that I wouldn’t tell anyone or he’d lock me in my room without food. Luckily, he never did follow through with that threat.”

“Landon, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, honey, it’s not okay. It’s actually really not okay.” I moved closer to him to let him continue. “How did you end up here?”

“My mom knew Miss Martha. She begged her to take me on and keep me away from my dad. The only way she convinced my dad to let me come was by telling him I was going somewhere to learn how to behave better and treat him better. Or else he wouldn’t have let me leave.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About nine months.”

“She’s never come to visit?”

“Not once.” Another tear fell down his cheek. This boy really didn’t understand what love looked like. “I might never see them again.”

“That’s a long time to not see your family,” I said as he nodded his head. “I know it might be hard to believe, but your mom cared about you enough that she found a safe place for you to be without any more hurt from your dad. She gave you up here to keep you safe. That was her way of showing love.”

“But why doesn’t she want me? Why doesn’t she leave my dad and take me with her?” He started to cry, and my heart hurt for him.

Kids rarely understood the reasoning behind their loved ones making hard decisions for them.

“Sweetheart, it has nothing to do with not wanting you.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No. She is in a sticky situation, and sometimes… sometimes, our love of other people blinds us to the reality of what’s in front of us. She loves your dad, and she’s afraid to leave him. And she loves you so much that she wants you to be away from the pain, yet she doesn’t know how to do that for herself.”

“So, she loves us both. And shows it differently?”

“Pretty much. It sounds like, to her, loving you enough to let you go was easy, knowing you were taken care of. Leaving your dad, well, he might be all alone, and she probably doesn’t want that.”

“Huh. That makes some sense.”

“Landon, you are a brilliant, bright star in this world. I know you miss your family and want to be with them. I would feel that way too. But I also know the people here love you and would do anything to see you happy. Let that light shine.”

“It’s just hard when the boys make fun of me sometimes. That I’m not strong enough. That I’m too soft. I know I’m not cool. I’ll never know the right things to say or do. It just reminds me of what my dad used to say, and it made me feel… well, like a piece of crap. So, I ran. I figured, if I wasn’t here anymore, I wouldn’t be anyone’s problem anymore.”

“Look at me, Landon.” I had him turn to face me head-on, praying my words would convey the emotion and meaning I needed them to. “You’re worth every possible thing this world could offer.”

More tears fell from his eyes, and one trickled down my own face.

“But… what if I’m not? What if I’m broken?”

The words shook me to my core. Broken. Not enough. Worthless. A problem.

It was like I was talking to my younger self. I had a moment of flashbacks. I was staring into my bedroom at my thirteen-year-old self. Feeling alone. Every emotion that a small person could feel led me to wondering why I had been given such a hard way to live my life. Why couldn’t I have been born normal? I was lost. Heavy. Like I couldn’t understand how someone could love me, or how I could love myself like this.

And then it hit me.

If I believed in all of those lies whispered into my mind, I wouldn’t still be here. Sitting next to this incredible boy who didn’t see worth in himself. I wouldn’t be who I was or who I was meant to be. I wouldn’t be able to make a difference in the same way. I wouldn’t be able to see from a different perspective. All I would see, all I would feel, was pain.

I was worth it. I wasn’t broken. That was a lie. I was no less important than he was. Just like Everett had said, I could make the choice to not let it define me. And I was already doing that in slow, small steps.

To me, Landon was the epitome of lovable. I would wrap him up and take him home with me forever if I could.

“Landon… do you think I am broken?”

He shook his head fiercely. “I want you to believe in yourself the same way you believe in me. Or in anyone you care about. You think the best of them, yeah?”

He nodded.

“You have to think the best in yourself and realize how much you deserve love. No matter the lies you’ve been told growing up.”

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. I held him while he sobbed. We sat there for a long time, letting the emotions run out of us. Reminding myself of love. Reminding him he was loved. I imagined a beam of light and love being showered upon him.

It was a privilege to be a part of this moment for Landon. It was as if, for the first time, he was being told he was worth it. The time sitting there, holding this sweet boy, was healing for me, and I hoped it was the beginning of healing for him. But what I thought of at the forefront of my mind was how similar he was to Everett. I saw a small young boy, just as I had known Everett to be at that age, sitting in front me. I was an older person, seeing him for the first time. Everett was just as scared and hurt as this little boy was, and who had been there to hold his hand and make him feel loved when he wasn’t at our house?

I knew exactly what I needed to share. And now, more than anything, I wanted to show him how much he meant to me and always had.

35

HARPER

I called Charly and gave her updates on the last week of changes. Her joy for me was contagious, and lightness filled the air as we spoke. I answered all the questions she asked that I could and reassured her as I made more plans, I would let her know. I also chastised her for never telling me about her crush on my brother, though she admitted to it being young love, as it had been completely forgotten with her new interest.

After Charly, I called my mom and gave her an update. She had a million questions, and I didn’t know how to answer most of them.

Martha overheard my conversation with her at the kitchen table, and we spent some time talking things through. She loved Everett just as much as her own and told us both what treasures we were for each other. Everett patiently waited as everyone wanted the details of our new, growing relationship. He chimed in here and there but mostly stood next to me, holding my hand.

My arms clung tightly around Everett’s neck as he carried me across the threshold of the ranch and to the outside lawn. Each step hurt, but all I could focus on was how magical it was to be in his arms. My muscles strained to keep myself up and holding tight around his neck. I played with the hair at his nape as I stared at his strong, clenched jaw.

I’d never been carried by anyone besides my brother before, and it wasn’t the same experience in the slightest. Everett’s strength exceeded his looks. It wasn’t big and brawny, but perfectly lean and muscular. Clearly enough to travel with a woman wrapped around him, unwilling to let go. He continued to walk to the bonfire, and my lips curved.

There were strings of twinkling lights dangling in the air above where everyone sat, crisscrossed in a symmetrical shape. All the boys sat around the fire on their tree logs, gracefully lying on the ground, the heat from the flames tickling our noses. The workers sat in folding chairs behind them, humming in small talk. They all surrounded the plaid armchair carried out from the house as it faced a microphone and stool. Questions erupted in my mind as I was eased toward the soft cushion underneath me. Everett helped me find a comfortable position in the chair and knelt in front of me.

“I want you to relax.” He looked at me longingly.

“What did you do?”

As my gaze swept over his handsome face, I choked back the emotion rising. Once again, he graced me with his immaculate smile that made my knees weak. He left me to go stand in front of the microphone. Whenever we’d done bonfires, it was nothing formal or organized. Everyone just sat or stood while we sang along with Everett’s tunes, making s’mores and conversing idly. This was different. All eyes were on me, and my nerves were taking over as butterflies swirled around in my stomach.

“I know this seems odd, but thank you to everyone who came to help. I couldn’t have strung the lights by myself.” Everett said, and everyone laughed. He didn’t seem to mind the attention, and it wasn’t a side of him I was used to yet. “As most of you know, I used to play professionally. It’s been a long time since I’ve done an official concert, but I thought it’s about time to change that. Change is okay, right?” He eyed the boys, and they nodded and yelled out.

“Go, Everett!” Landon yelled.

“Get it! Get it!” Michael chimed in with a whistle.

“Ow, ow!” Clarence piped in.

All these boys had finagled their way into my heart, all of whom I loved, and there would never be a way out. I looked around, and everyone was captivated. Eyes glistening, smiling, gleaming with happiness. This was where love resided. In these people, coming together in unity, showing up for one another, even though most of them weren’t related. They were family. We were a chosen family.

Everett hid a grin and moved his attention to me, looking straight at me, and everyone else disappeared. He strummed his fingers softly at first, playing a tune I knew. The tempo picked up, and I couldn’t keep up with the movements. I was lost in the finger work moving so quickly across the strings. He started singing, and his voice melted me like lava.

Each verse struck a chord in me. It was as if each song had been handpicked for me—like he knew all my favorite songs.

Song after song, I fell deeper and deeper. With his music, with his talent, and with him. I couldn’t deny it anymore. The weeks of buildup, the connection through memories, the things I was learning, and the things I’d already known were there. I wanted to do whatever it took to make him happy. He made me feel so alive.

Multiple songs were sung and enjoyed, the moon shone bright, and everyone was on a high of beautiful music.

Everett spoke up again. “For my last and final song, I would like to dedicate it to someone who has influenced me and affected me from the first hello.” He looked at me again, rendering me speechless “You were six years old and nosy as ever while we brought in our moving boxes. You stood there with your white-blonde hair and asked what we were doing, and I knew you were special.”

I placed a hand over my heart, as if I could hold on to this feeling. His fingers began strumming, and the boys started swaying to the tune. Everett sang a song I’d never heard before. Each verse drove deeper into my soul.

In the quiet nights, I find

Thoughts playing on repeat

Around in my mind.

Sometimes, I wonder if life can be

In those moments

All I think it can be.

Everett’s voice, raspy and beautifully toned, continued with the emotions rising to the surface. I knew this song was from his heart. It wasn’t a cover. It wasn’t someone else’s words. It was straight from him—a piece of who he was. For a moment, all the physical pain drained away, and all I saw, all I heard, all I felt was him.

Doubt creeps in.

Time stands still.

Then I look at you and feel.

Where in the world have you been?

He looked directly at me. It was then I realized the song was about me.

Now you’re here, here with me.

Darkness fades, and you’re all I can see.

Share with me

Everything.

Heal these cracks and make me complete.

You carry me.

Yeah, you carry me.

Make me complete, and you carry me.

Tears pricked my eyes as he sang the chorus. I didn’t dare look around me, as I knew the attention was on us.

The way you smile, the way you laugh,

It lights up the room, and I just can’t shake

The way you make

Me feel so high.

From the beginning, you never took,

Only gave

And only loved.

I know you were sent from the heaven above.

He took a breath. Closing his eyes, he leaned in close while strumming his guitar.

To save me, to heal me,

To give me a dream I thought could never be.

Darkness fades, and you’re all I can see.

Yeah, you carry me.

I want to carry you wherever you want to go.

I want to love you, but I don’t know how to let you know.

He continued to repeat the chorus, and I held my breath, as I was overcome with a calm serenity throughout my body. He shifted the melody up an octave before continuing.

Your moments of silent pain,

I’m here to stay, I’m here to remain.

You’re my missing piece in every way.

Please say you’ll let me stay

As you carry me away

From fear and stolen time.

You carry me away

To a place of constant sunshine.

Carry me away.

Yeah, you carry… me… away.

The last words were soft and quiet, being sung in reverence. The hushed tones became a blanket wrapping around my heart. Tears streamed down my face as I kept my gaze intently on him. His eyes opened and met mine. The power behind them was remarkable. Shedding of a layer. He seemed more at peace within himself. If I had anything to do with that healing, I would thank God every night for being of use.

Charly was right; I was falling deeply, longingly in love with Everett Jones.

Everyone cheered and hollered. For several long seconds, he sat, allowing the feeling of those around us to uplift him in this moment. His all-encompassing smile lit up his face. Our eyes met, and he set down his guitar and came toward me. How I wish I could run into his arms right now.

He knelt again, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him as close as I could.

“Thank you,” I breathed into his throat. “That was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.”

His lips tickled at the base of my neck as he spoke softly. “Anything for you, Harp. It’s always been you.”

The whooping and hollering didn’t stop, but for a moment, time stood still.

I knew this had not been an easy thing for him to do. Everett had a past that still haunted him now. I knew it even if I didn’t know every detail. I knew he’d been hurt. I knew he didn’t enjoy playing to this extent for people anymore, for it was a reminder of what had happened to him. His public declaration of playing was his way of showing that he was taking a leap of faith forward. In life and in love. Moving past the hurt, and finding that joy again, was like my heart being filled with all the sweetest emotions and wrapped in bubble wrap.

He knew how much I loved him playing. He knew I had listened since night one to him playing outside. His music was a healing balm on nights when the pain was unbearable. I believed it was the same for him. His music healed his pain that was deeper than the physical pains I endured.

Jasper came to give us both hugs. “It’s about damn time.” He spoke with a grin from ear to ear.

Clarence, Michael, and Landon all yelled, “Language!” as everyone smiled and came running toward us.

“What in the world do you mean?” I eyed my brother as he helped me up on one side, Everett on the other, like it has always been.

“You two have been in love with each other since we were kids. It only took too many years and time apart for you both to realize it.”

I looked over at Everett, and he smiled at me as the world faded around us.

36

HARPER

The butterflies were endless. Moments like this were compared to scenes in a movie. Picture a slow-motion scene of being led through the bushes lining the dirt walkway, each step graceful and poetic. Pieces of my hair fell out of its bun and swayed softly across my face in the wind while the heat of his hand rested on mine.

Every few seconds, he would turn his neck, looking back at me with a faint smile on his face, as if holding a secret from me was his favorite thing ever. He maneuvered his body to avoid me getting smacked in the leg by a thorny set of leaves, and I felt like each second was minutes passing, as I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I wanted to remember this moment and write it down. Take a mental picture of it and hold it close to me on a bad day.

Everett Jones was here, holding my hand.

It took everything in me not to pull him close and jump into his arms, kissing him senseless.

That morning, I’d found a note on the side of my end table, something that had been occurring more times than not recently, and I found it more intimate than a text.

Meet me outside on the north side of the garage at 10 a.m. Wear something to get wet. <3

Did he really want to go swimming with me when he knew I hated it? I was insanely self-conscious of my body, my swimsuit sitting underneath a pair of baggy capris and an oversize white T-shirt, and my insides wouldn’t stop quivering. Wearing a swimsuit was the only thing to make sense of the situation. Right now, I was just focused on how my hand was enclosed in his large, calloused hand. His thumb occasionally caressed mine.

We stopped right in front of the watering hole, and he set down his bag and pulled on my hand to bring me closer. His head nodded in the direction of the water.

“You ready?”

“For?” I tried to act confused, but he saw through me.

“We are getting in.”

“Hmm. Let’s not and say we did.”

“Harper, we are going to swim today if I have to throw you into the water.” He paused. “In fact, maybe I’ll just do that anyway.”

He started tugging on my hand, still clasped into his. I recoiled.

“I really don’t want to get in, Everett.”

“I know you don’t, but that is why we are here. To overcome your fear.”

“How did you know I was afraid?” I looked at him, stunned.

“The first time we all came here, it took two hours before you even put your legs in.”

He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. Every fingertip set fire to my back. I put my hands up on his chest and stared at him. He had watched me, even back then. Had I known, I would have been incredibly nervous.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

I looked down, moving my foot back and forth across the dirt underneath us. It all seemed to be happening so quickly. The first kiss, the dance, our picnic, and the emotional conversations in my room. The concert and the way he had told me he was falling for me. What if this was all just a wonderful dream? A summer love that seemed exciting and desirable until the end, when reality struck and it was time to go back home?

I didn’t want to get burned again. Too many guys in my past had focused on everything I wasn’t. They had treated me like I was someone to take care of. Someone to feel sorry for to boost their pride. The fear began trickling upward.

I wanted to believe in him. I wanted to give him a chance. I wanted to trust that he was different and that he would make the effort to stay. Just stay.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“It was the last person I was with.”

He stood in silence, stroking my arm, waiting patiently for me to continue.

“I have always been fully aware that my body is not like those you see on TV. I grew up taking tons of medication, and it ruined the pigment of my skin and the ability to work out. But my last boyfriend, he magnified the insecurity. He never reassured me while we were together. Which is fine. I didn’t need it, nor did I expect it. But when he told me he no longer wanted to be together, he mentioned …”

I looked down, ashamed. He lifted my chin with his fingers, staring intently into my eyes. There was love and acceptance there, just enough for me to keep going.

“He told me that if I ever wanted to be with someone, you know, physically, that I would need to work on the way I looked to make myself more desirable.”

There was silence. Utter and complete quiet. I closed my eyes, terrified of the truth shining through. Did he find me ridiculous? Or worse, hideous?

He lifted his thumb and traced the outline of my face. The warmth behind his eyes drew me in, and I found myself leaning closer into him. Our bodies were a book’s width away from collapsing together.

With each caress, he spoke in a soft and gentle tone. “You are”—he traced the other side— “the most beautiful woman”—he caressed my lips—“I have ever seen.” He lingered, touching my bottom lip. “And your ex was a douchebag.” He traced up my arm with his opposite hand, letting it linger around the back of my neck. “And if I met him, I would probably sock him in the face.”

That got a smile from us both.

“And then I would thank him.” Both hands now wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. “His loss is my infinite gain.”

He kissed me, soft and tender. Our lips intertwined, and my entire being sank into him, melting like ice cubes in the hot summer sun.

This was what it should feel like, warm and comfortable, yet hot and exhilarating all at the same time.

As his tongue slid across my lip, I smiled against him.

“What is that for?”

His breath tickled my mouth.

“I just didn’t think it could feel this way.”

“What could feel like this way?”

“Acceptance.” I didn’t need it. I knew I was a good person and that I could love someone fully. Hearing it—that was an entirely new sensation. It boosted my confidence just a bit more. “If it’s any consolation, I find you utterly sexy. In every way. Even when you had the long hair.”

“Do you now?” Humor gleamed in his face.

“Mmhmm.” I bit my bottom lip and nodded my head.

I lifted onto my toes and grabbed his face in my hands, enclosing his mouth with mine forcefully and with all the strength I could muster. I was eagerly embraced. Feeling every muscle in his body tighten against me, I knew my feelings were reciprocated.

The lack of control over my body and how it flared made it difficult to ever imagine myself taking many risks. I never took the leap and made a move on anyone because the fear of rejection ran too deep. Somehow, this conversation was the push in the right direction. I desired to take charge and show him that I truly did care for him in return.

I bit into his lip and smiled deviously, pulling him along with me. “All right. Let’s do this.”

“You’re going to ravish me and then expect me to jump into a pond of cold water?”

“Yep.” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. I pulled on his hand, tugging him toward the water.

With the storms raging through the last few weeks, the water temperature had dropped.

“Are you ready for this?”

I turned to face him head-on. I wiggled my way out of my capris and pulled the T-shirt over my head, letting it all fall to the ground, revealing myself in my one-piece floral bathing suit. I stood triumphantly, hoping that my confidence would shine through and not my nerves. All I could hyper-focus on was every extra curve and dimple, every vein that was too defined.

He stopped and stared. His eyes slowly checked me out. Heat rose to my cheeks. I hated this, but I wanted to do it—for him.

“Incredible,” he whispered.

He kissed me slowly, and then he took his turn. He pulled his shirt over his head, and his torso was of solid muscle. I suddenly regretted everything I’d just done. I took a step back. He shook his head, understanding my hesitation, and grabbed my hand.

“Let’s do this. On the count of three.”

I nodded.

“One… two…”

And we jumped in. Together.

It took a few minutes to get used to the water. We laughed as we splashed each other. I attempted to dunk him in, but of course, he was as strong as a statue. We kissed, we talked, and another wall came crumbling down between us. The pretense, the fear, the past—it was all washed away with the water as we spent time seeing each other and appreciating what we saw.

I didn’t want this day to end. I would savor this memory to remind myself when things got hard or scary, to remember how good it was to be real. To be vulnerable. To be open.

As I admired this man in front of me, it was hard not to get caught up in the reality of who he was. He was far too pretty for a girl like me. Regardless of his handsome perfection, behind his hidden self, he was genuine. He had a heart of gold, and he wanted to help to make me smile. My sixteen-year-old self would have laughed if she could see me now. I would turn to her, give her a hug, and tell her, No matter what, you are worth the love and the effort.

“I want to mention something to you.”

Everett’s serious voice scared me a bit. I ran my hands over my wet hair to keep from looking like a drowned cat, forcing the unwanted thoughts away.

“I’ve been doing some research, and apparently, swimming is one of the best forms of therapy for arthritis.”

My mouth went slack as I stared. He did research. For me? Who was this human in front of me, and how in the world did I find him?

“It is.”

Before I could say any more, he interrupted me.

“I also read a bunch of research that stated that cold therapy was vital to lowering inflammation. So, the warmth feels good, but the cool water helps more.” He cleared his throat. “If it’s way out of line, please tell me. I wanted to do something to alleviate it even if it’s just a little bit.”

The effort it had taken him to go into such research was evident. There wasn’t much information yet on this particular type of arthritis, and learning about it wasn’t easy. The fact that he had taken the time to do so meant more than words could express.

“Don’t be mad, please. I genuinely just wanted to help.”

I grabbed his face and kissed him gently. “Between this and the concert, it’s the most thoughtful thing I think anyone has ever done for me.” My gaze intensified. “I don’t know what to do with this, Ev. It’s all so kind, so selfless. It feels… big.”

His cheekbones turned crimson, but I knew he would be embarrassed if I acknowledged it.

“I want to show you a few of the exercises I read about. To help when you’re in a flare-up.” He spoke with assurance, using the right terminology. “So, just relax against me, and I will move your body accordingly.”

I floated around him, and he moved my legs about. He swam through movements with me, teaching different ways to stretch out my arms and legs against the force of the water. As he finished, he placed my legs out flat while he had me lean back into his chest, my head on his shoulder as I looked up into the sunlight. He explained to me several breathing techniques to do while I floated against him, allowing my body and mind to relax and let the tension lift.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the peace surrounding me. The sun on my face, the lightness of my body, the lack of pain in my joints, and the feel of his hands on me.

We spent time doing different movements and exercises, and I fought tears of relief and shock at how much effort he had put into this and everything else in the past week.

How was I supposed to leave now?

I wrapped my legs around his waist as we floated in the water.

“Do you remember the night in the tree house after you were diagnosed?”

“All of them are imprinted on my brain forever.”

“The night you came, and you thought it was Jasper, but I showed up instead. It was the first time I was there with you without Jasper, and I think that was the night everything changed for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you laid there, in pain and hurt, and you wanted to talk to me about it, I just knew. I knew from then on that I wanted to do whatever it took to be there for you. To put a smile on your face. To ease your pain in any small way.” He traced my jaw. “I didn’t know it then, but I know it now.”

“Know what?” I leaned into his fingers.

“That I love you.” The confidence behind his words sent a shiver down my spine. “I loved you then, and I didn’t even know it. And I love you still, and I always will.” He tightened his hold. “I traveled all around the country, trying to find what I had lost when I left. All along, it was you. You were the key to my healing, you were the reason I found peace with my situation, and you are why I want to be a better man.”

He leaned in and kissed me, and I sighed against his mouth.

Pulling away gently, I said, “I love you too, Everett.”

“Really?” The doubt shone deeply.

“Yes, really.” I wrapped myself as tightly around him as I could while he kept us afloat. “I think I’ve always loved you too, but I didn’t understand what that meant then. I knew where you were, what you were doing, what you liked. I always wanted you around and missed you when you were gone. But I had the wrong idea of love. I only knew what I saw in the movies. That it was all about the wooing and the excitement. That it would hit me hard, and I would just know.

“Everett, you’ve always been there, right in front of me. It was a quiet and constant love and understanding of each other that made us both feel seen and heard, when we otherwise wouldn’t have.” I kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Jasper was so kind, and so were my parents, but at times, they could be overbearing in their worry for me. You just saw me for me. As a real person, without all my ailments.

“I think that love is what brought us back to each other. Why we never settled down, why we were so hurt by the separation, and why we pushed each other away in different ways. We had a friendship first, and that grew into a love deeper than I could have imagined.”

“I think you’re absolutely right.” He kissed me against my smile. “You’re always right.” He kissed me again, slower this time. “And I will never forget it.”

This time, we collided together. Pushing and pulling our bodies and mouths, lost in each other, floating in the water, our masses feeling light and limitless. Everett inched his way toward the dock and lightly pushed me against the edge, hoisting me up on his thighs as he leaned into me. There we spent hours in each other’s embrace, lost in this feeling and understanding of love and what that meant to us. We kissed away our hurt and pain. He touched the scars and healed the wounds. Together, we found a place of remedy and truth. We couldn’t change our past. We couldn’t change my body, and we couldn’t change the trauma of his father. But together, we could have our own safe place to land, a place to call home, where all of it was welcome.

I pulled back to gasp for air. “What does this mean, Ev? I’m… I’m scared. I’m scared this is all too good to be true.”

“I know. I am too.” He breathed against my lips. “Please, don’t go. Just stay. Stay with me.”

That was all it took. I was lost in him—his mind, his body, and his soul. Nothing would take away my feelings from him. Not now, not ever.

37

HARPER

Stolen glances, hidden smiles, and secret handholding under the table filled the next several days. Everett and I didn’t get a lot of time alone, as the week had already been preplanned for another project. Everyone was busy arranging and preparing in between classes, mealtimes, and sessions. Everett’s time filled up quickly each day with the needs of the boys, and I helped wherever I could. But when we were able to, we took silent moments to reassure each other we weren’t going anywhere.

There was the topic of what would happen when I left at the end of the summer, and that time was ticking closer. I knew I didn’t want to separate from Everett, but I also didn’t know what he was thinking. Would I stay here? Would he want me to? Would he leave and come to Arizona with me? We had lives in different places, and that didn’t make it conducive to having a relationship. Long-distance was hard, even on the strongest of couples.

As uncertainty surrounded us of where we would end up, our soul connection continued to bloom. Like a flower in springtime, every bud beautifully formed, perfectly shaped and molded. That was the truth I held on to, knowing it was too important not to.

I lifted the worn plastic bin as it scratched my fingers, holding it straight in front of me as I moved to the barn. Today’s task was not a fan favorite among the boys, for we were using yarn and material to tie off blankets for the less fortunate.

“I feel stupid doing this.” Michael slumped in his chair, twisting the fabric across each other to form a knot. “Why can’t we find some girls in town to do this?”

Clarence huffed, “How dumb are you? There are no girls anywhere, bro.”

“Even if there were, we would still make you do it.” Jasper threw a ball of yarn at Michael’s head. “Stop complaining. I could make you shovel gravel or pick weeds for hours instead if you’d like.”

“Nah, I’m good.” That put Michael in his place as his complacent smile covered his cheeks.

“I think it’s kind of fun,” Landon said.

“You would,” Michael and Clarence said at the same time, followed by a glare at each other for having the same responses.

I continued to walk toward the table, placing my bin on top. I unloaded the balls of yarn and fabric as I continued to listen. Everett was setting up another station across the open space from me. I felt the heat of his stare at the back of my neck.

I finished unloading, grabbed my bin, and sauntered back to the opening to load more from the truck outside. The bed of the truck faced the opposite end of the barn opening, and I moved around the side before a hand shot out to grab my arm, pulling me eagerly around to the other side. My back was gently pushed against the truck door, and Everett’s weight crashed against mine, the cold metal meeting my skin.

“What are you doing?” I said, entirely out of breath.

He moved a strand of hair back behind my ear before cupping my jaw.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to ravish you, of course,” he grumbled and began placing soft kisses all along my neck, starting at my earlobe and working his way down to my throat.

“You’ve been reading my book recommendations, I see.” I smiled at his use of ravish, but it didn’t slow down his movements.

His hands gripped tighter around my waist.

“Everett, everyone will see!” I whispered, afraid someone might walk by and see us on the other side of the truck.

“We’re completely hidden. And I can’t take another moment of you walking around, tempting me without tasting you.”

His hand stroked my arm, and my skin prickled all the way down to my fingertips. He lifted them to his mouth, kissing the tip of each finger softly. He then kissed my wrist, my forearm, and moved all the way up till he was back at the base of my throat.

I wasn’t one to get caught up in an intimate moment. I knew the importance of sharing this part of myself with someone, and no one had felt special enough to experience it with. As the weeks of admiration grew to liking and that liking turned to desire, the force was undeniable between us. I wanted him to know every part of me, as I wanted to know every part of him.

“What are you doing to me?” I spoke deliriously as all thoughts vanished, except for where his mouth was.

“Just giving you a taste of what you do to me every time you’re near.” He breathed up my neck and nibbled on my earlobe. “It’s a good thing I didn’t know what it was like to touch you growing up, or I would have never been able to stop,” he whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek and the corner of my mouth.

I pulled on his flannel shirt, forcing him closer as his lips found mine. His tongue tantalized mine while heat pooled in my stomach. I tightened my hold on his arms before moving to wrap them around his neck. My chest went flush with his, and I could feel his quickened heartbeat mimicking my own.

Each movement of his lips was like a game of cat and mouse. He pushed, and I pulled, never being fully satisfied. My hands moved to his hair, and I ran my fingers through it, always wanting to know what it felt like. He tasted of mint and fresh air.

The dream I repeatedly had of being held by a man with no face came into view, and that face morphed into the one in front of me. I was beginning to fall, and I didn’t want anyone to catch me. Let me plunge into the depths of the unknown with him by my side.

The ardor of his embrace consumed me. With every breath and every caress, I hoped it was a dream so I could sleep forever.

I don’t know how long we were lost in our moment, as time stood still, but the sound of voices coming near altered our thoughts. He bit down gently while sucking on my bottom lip as I gasped a breath. His devious smile was waiting for me when I opened my eyes.

“Now, you look fully ravished,” he said as he winked.

He sauntered off around the truck, leaving me breathless and wanting. I placed a hand on my chest, attempting to calm my heart rate.

Never in my life had I felt more desired. No one had ever snuck glances or kisses with me. No one had ever wanted to be with me enough to sacrifice. It was an entirely new feeling, and I wanted to hold on to it for as long as I could.

A clearing of a throat startled me. I turned to see Jasper standing at the front of the truck, suspicion in his gaze. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and fiddled with my hair as warmth covered my cheeks.

We shared a look before he spoke. “You guys are going to have to do better at your hidden rendezvous.”

“Jasper, please.” I covered my eyes with my palm.

“Luckily, the boys were all distracted, and no one else saw, but your face shows it all.” He smirked.

I bet he was loving having a reason to tease me again.

“That’s not why I came to find you though.”

My shoulders dropped in relief.

“How do you feel you’re adjusting?”

“Honestly, I’m feeling good. I really love it here.”

He looked skeptical.

“Not just because of Everett. I love being here with you, the boys, Martha. All of it.”

He nodded. “I’ve noticed a change in you. You’ve been taking leaps of courage the last few weeks between the watering hole and riding the horses, and I just wanted to tell you that I am proud of you. For trying and succeeding.”

“Thank you,” I breathed.

“Is it Everett who I have to thank for it?” he asked.

It was true, Everett had helped encourage me to do things I would otherwise say no to at this point in my life. Something about his presence boosted me up and gave me added strength I didn’t feel on my own. He believed in me, and he pushed me instead of corralling me in the safe space I often found myself in. But I wanted to own that strength for myself. I needed to prove I could do something hard without him encouraging it, but with me encouraging myself.

“He definitely has a way of encouraging me, and his belief in me is motivation I didn’t see before.”

“I think it’s amazing, Harp. You’ve always had it in you. You just had to believe it yourself. I know your body gives you physical limitations, and that might not go away. But I think you’ve spent too much time giving yourself mental limitations because of what you’ve been told your entire life. Sometimes it takes someone believing in us first before we can see it and believe it in ourselves.” He came and put an arm around my shoulders as we walked slowly back to the barn.

“I’ve learned to love where I am at, Jasp. Truly. I don’t feel like a nuisance like I used to. I know I am capable of more than what I’ve allowed myself because of fear. Being here with these boys has added to this belief. But I also want to learn to try more things even if it’s hard, even if I fail, instead of not experiencing anything. What’s the point of living if we don’t truly learn how to live? Despite it being hard. Despite the tears that might come or the possible heartbreak.”

He stopped us before the opening of the barn. “Are you worried about that? About heartbreak?”

I nodded.

“I know the possibility is there because of his past. But it will have nothing to do with you or what you bring to the table.”

I wanted to believe that was true, but I honestly didn’t know how.

“How about we work on our next adventure? What about a hike? Or some real country dancing?”

“Baby steps, Jasp.” I shook my head. His enthusiasm was contagious. “Where are your flaws, big bro?”

“Don’t you know? I have none.” He winked, and I swatted his stomach.

There was a hint of sadness behind his eyes at times. He would never admit it, but I knew his overzealous look on life was sometimes a way he hid away his own hurt. What that hurt was, I didn’t know. I hoped in time, he would learn to trust me and open up to me and see me as a friend, not just his needy little sister.

“How’s Clarence doing?” My heart gave a small tug as I asked.

“Honestly, he’s doing great. It’s been weeks without a slip up, and he checks in twice a day now with one of us.” He rubbed his jaw. I hid a smile. “Whatever you talked to him about, must have made a difference for him. He’s even shown more interest in Mike, whom we all know can irritate him.”

I laughed as I knew what he was talking about.

“I’m just happy he’s out of that head space for now. It’s a tough place to be in.”

“All the boys have hit a dark place at some point. I’m just grateful you were there so we could stop it before it got really bad.”

“Me too.” I remembered that day frequently. It was something I wanted to remember, even though it was heartbreaking, to be on guard for every boy here. You never knew who suffered behind a smiling face.

“Should we get back?” I asked.

“Lead the way.”

We walked back together to find the boys all making fun of each other—how one tied a knot and how the other liked the softness of the fabric. With a glimmer in their eyes, they enjoyed teasing and taunting as they pushed forward with the project.

Everett was across the room, staring at me, and I couldn’t help but think of our kiss moments prior. I felt beautiful when he looked at me. I stood a little taller.

“All right, boys, are you ready for phase two?” I asked as I set out wrapping paper along the table. I received moans in response. “Once you’re done with the blanket, you get to place them in a box and wrap them up like a present.” I smiled as eyes rolled at me. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” I encouraged.

“Do we have enough paper?” Jasper came to look over my shoulder. “Maybe I should grab more, just in case.”

“I can do it. Just tell me where it is.”

He eyed me warily. “It’s in the attic. You’ll have to climb flimsy makeshift stairs.”

I took a breath. Here was a chance to do something all on my own. I had to seize the moment. “It’s fine. I can do it.”

“Harp, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”

“Yes, I do. I have to do this for myself.”

“Let me come with you,” he begged.

“No. I have to do this alone. I’ll call you if I can’t make it up.”

He nodded, but I knew this was harder for him than he let on. He was so used to saving me from situations like this; it was second nature to him. I turned around and met Everett’s questioning gaze head-on. I forced a smile and walked toward the ranch.

Once I reached inside, I embraced the silence that found me. Not a person in reach. I walked the two flights of stairs with more ease than usual. I stopped on the landing to take a breath, holding my hip at the same time. Then, I worked my way down the hall, past all our bedrooms, to an opening in the ceiling. I pulled down hard on the string, and the plywood opened downward, and rope stairs fell in front of me.

Rope. Oh boy.

It’s not that tall. It shouldn’t take too much strength. I got this. I can do this.

Giving myself a pep talk wasn’t entirely helping, but I continued anyway. I placed a hand on each side of the rope stairs, feeling the weathered material scratch against my palms. I lifted my right leg onto the first step and heaved myself upward, placing all my weight on that one leg as I tried to lift the left leg. I started swinging forward and back as I held on tightly to the rope. My heart dropped.

What if I fall? What if I hurt myself? I shouldn’t be doing this.

The negative thoughts surrounded me like a thunderstorm rolling in. My arms began to shake.

I made it to the first step. That is good enough, right?

I heard laughter in the distance from boys coming in from downstairs. No. I had to do this. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try.

I continued to sway in the air, and my fortitude followed. Mind over matter. I had to believe I could before I did it. Taking a breath, I closed my eyes and imagined succeeding. I opened them long enough to boost myself up, using all my strength, and moved to the second step.

Two down, five more to go. I can do this.

Each step, I closed my eyes and imagined making it to the next step. Then, I would open my eyes and succeed. It was painfully slow. My whole body shook from exhaustion. It would be so easy to give up and not even try anymore. I didn’t.

Five. Six. Seven.

I pulled myself up onto the ledge of the ceiling floor, using the last of my strength. I clung to the floor and rolled onto my back, breathing deeply in the process. I placed my hand on my forehead.

I had done it. I had done it, and I had done it all by myself. A laugh escaped me, along with a tear. I punched the air, and empowerment filled my entire being.

It took me a bit to align with the ground as my legs wobbled, but I sat up and found the box of decorations with tubes of wrapping paper. I grabbed them all, throwing them down the hole to the second floor. I worked my way down the stairs, which was easier than up but still a feat. I jumped down to the floor, catching my breath in the process.

Take that, body!

I knew logically that I wasn’t as physically strong as others. Through doing this small but significant task, the strength I’d once lacked now embodied me. I held back the emotions rising, knowing it wasn’t the time to do anything but feel proud and continue my task. I held on to the tubes in my arms and made my way back down the stairs on wobbly legs.

Jasper came through the front door, and I dropped the tubes, walking quickly to jump in his arms.

“I did it!” I cried with pride.

“I knew you could, Harp.” He squeezed me before letting go and picking up the dropped tubes. “Proud of you.”

“I know to most people, that was nothing. To me, it felt like I just ran a race I never thought I could enter in.”

He nodded, knowing full well what I was saying. I didn’t have to explain it. He had lived the life next to me, seeing the fear and worry that controlled me.

I linked arms with him as we walked back to the barn, my body sore, but my spirit strengthened. That night, my joints ached like a fever gone wild, but I wouldn’t trade it. I’d accomplished something for myself today, and that was irreplaceable.

38

HARPER

Fumes from the fire danced in front of me, swaying upward in irregular movements. Crackling sounds and Everett’s soft plucking filled the air, surrounding us in our own little world. Nothing but music and starlight. The shadows of the trees rustled, the specks of light twinkled all over the sky with a small puff of smoke making its way to greet them.

Everett’s guitar sat on one thigh, his other stretched out, while I leaned against it. The tree trunk held us upward, and I embraced the closeness. He was working on a new song, chords that were foreign to me, but I basked in the sounds, each note driving deeper into my heart. I held the dense quilt closer to me as the breeze picked up.

This night was too close to ending, too close to the unknown being laid out before us. I didn’t want to prepare for it, though I knew I had to.

“Everett?”

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“What would you say are your driving forces in life?”

“Like what motivates me?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He continued plucking his strings in random notes while he pondered my random question. I turned a bit in my seat to face him better, the heat now resting on the side of my face.

“I think I would say, my belief in goodness. In people. In hope. In healing. I’ve seen too much of it in my life to deny its existence in changing people.” He looked down at his guitar. “I don’t know if it’s prideful to say, but I also like the way it feels to accomplish something I’ve worked hard at. That feeling is a huge motivator.”

“I think those are all valid points.”

“When I was in Nashville, I remember this one night, I was out with my buddies, and everyone was getting hammered. I was the designated driver, so I didn’t have much. We were on our way out of the bar. It was like two in the morning, and one of the guys got in a fight with a stranger on our way to the car. They ended up fist-fighting, and even though he wasn’t sober, he was always kind of like that. Just picking fights with people and finding fault in them. He ended up spending the night in jail because he had tried to fight off a cop. It was such a mess. But I remember that night shifting something in me. It reminded me of how I didn’t want to be. And knowing that the ability to get angry and get addicted to alcohol or any substance ran in my blood. It just made it easier to step away.”

“What happened to your friend?”

“He was no longer my friend after that. I think we all had blinders on to his rage because we all played good music together. As if that somehow made up for his lack of good manners and integrity.”

“That’s unfortunate for him. He’s missing out on a really great person.” I half smiled as he glowed.

“I could tell you a lot of stories like that in my days of traveling. I met some incredible people, but I also met a lot of assholes. The positive thing was learning what not to do from them.”

“I like that. I tend to be one who learns from others’ mistakes myself. I don’t want to suffer more than I have to. I know several people who aren’t like that though. They want firsthand experience in every single thing.”

“When you work at a place like this, learning from others is the best source of truth and guidance.”

“This is a magical place.”

I looked off to the left field, where the ranch sat. The lights glowed from the windows, and boys trickled in and out of its doors. It was close to bedtime, the hustle before the calm. We had snuck away before anyone realized we were missing.

“It really is,” he said as he continued to play. “What about you?”

“I would probably say some of the same things. Though I definitely believe in a higher power. Something unexplainable, something bigger than we see. I can feel it all the way to my bones. Dreams I’ve had and experiences I’ve felt—I can’t deny that knowledge either. So many times I was told I wouldn’t be able to do something, and I continue to defy the odds. If that isn’t miraculous and proof of something bigger than me, I don’t know what is.” I snuggled up to his leg.

“I can see that,” He stopped playing and moved the guitar next to him. “The fact that we found our way back to each other after all these years proves that too.”

He pulled me up to fit my body between his thighs, and I rested my head back on his chest. He enveloped me in his embrace, his arms swallowing me, his hands warming up mine.

“Mmhmm,” I mumbled as I sighed in contentment.

Closing my eyes, I breathed in his scent, soaking up every muscle around me, every curve touching me. Serenity filled my chest.

He kissed my forehead, breathing near my ear. “What about home? Tell me about it.”

“Arizona? It’s still just as hot as when you left.” I laughed. “My parents are good. I just talked to them this morning, and they went on and on about how happy they were to hear you were up here.”

“You told them?” He tensed up.

“Of course I did. You were family to us, and they’ve been worried sick about you for years.” I wiggled my way closer to him. “I told them not to tell anyone ’til you were ready. They are good at keeping things to themselves.”

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“Dad has been trying to retire for three years, though I honestly don’t think he will. He’s too much of a busybody to sit still.” I ached a little, knowing so much life was happening between us that they didn’t know about, or vice versa. “Mom is super active in her church community, and I swear she bakes a meal for someone every other night. She joined a bunco team too.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” I smiled. “It’s hard for her to find things she enjoys doing without it revolving around me or Jasper. I’m proud of her for finding something to occupy her time.”

“To be loved that fiercely, it must be something special.” He spoke near my ear, the heat of his breath tickling my neck.

“It is.”

I continued to tell him all about school and Charly with her newest dating drama. I told him of my favorite kids from last year and how crazy my principal was. He shared with me more stories about his travels and the people he had met.

We glazed over past relationships, but nothing too detailed. The thought of him kissing another woman pained me. I knew it was too soon to feel so possessive, but I couldn’t help it. In a way, he’d always felt like mine. I hoped to keep it that way.

The hours passed by like minutes, and the moon shone right above us. Everything went dark and quiet around us, except for the moon lighting the blackness. We talked so much, but he barely touched the surface of everything I wanted to know. Everett was finally letting me in after all these years, and I wanted to dive deep and know every piece of him.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, reaching into the unknown.

“Anything,” he answered, his voice low and quiet.

He leaned a little more into me, and the heaviness of his weight was a comfort.

“Did your dad ever try to change?”

He was silent.

“Like, did he ever show kindness, or was it always bad?”

After a few minutes, he responded, “I think there was a part of him that wanted to. Sometimes, he would come home after a day or two of sobering up, and he would beg for my mom’s forgiveness. Which she always gave him. Things went back to normal—or at least normal for me—and then a few weeks later, the cycle would start all over again.”

“That’s awful, Everett. I can’t even imagine all you had to endure as a kid.”

“Luckily, I had a really great family who let me hang out with them a lot.” He nudged me. “Jasper’s friendship saved me in many ways. And your dad, even though it wasn’t the same, he showed up for me more than anyone knew, and that father figure influenced me for the better.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.”

“Me too. Though I would never want to go backward. Missing meals or being scared for myself and my mom’s well-being—it’s not something I want to relive.”

“I don’t blame you.” I tugged on his arms to wrap around me tighter. “Did you often miss meals?” The sadness I felt for the little boy I only knew pieces of was overwhelming.

“Not often. I learned after several instances to hide snacks under my bed, so if I ever got locked in or forgotten, I would have something to tide me over till morning.”

“Everett, my heart breaks for you. I can’t believe all you had to deal with as a child.”

“I turned out just fine.”

I heard the humor in his tone, but it didn’t lighten the load for me.

“No child should have to go through that.”

He tilted my head up to him, his finger under my chin. Our eyes locked as he wiped a tear away, the fire bouncing off his irises.

“I agree that no child should have to suffer, but we all do in some way. Mine was just different from yours, or the next-door neighbor’s, or the kid who sat next to me in homeroom. We all have our challenges. I couldn’t imagine suffering the pain you have. We all are given what we can handle.” He kissed me lightly. “I promise I am okay. I’m here, helping other boys hopefully not suffer as much as they might if they weren’t here, and I get to be sitting here with you. What more could I ask for?”

I kissed him again, and his soft, plush lips met mine, my eyes never wavering from him. “I’m so glad you came here, Ev.”

“I’m glad I did too.”

I reached my head up to meet his lips once more, slowly closing my eyes and breathing him in. I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He sucked on my upper lip and then my lower, teasing and taunting as he did. His tongue caressed my mouth as I opened willingly for him. Each kiss driving more passion than the one before. He gently leaned me back, until I lay flat on the dirt ground, his legs straddling me, his body flush with my own. His arm cradled my head as his other hand roamed up and down me, landing on the side of my jaw. He caressed me so slowly, so softly, like I would break if he didn’t.

I always wondered what it would be like to be fully kissed. To be immersed in passion and zeal. To be wanted so desperately and to want so desperately that anything seemed mild in comparison until it was quenched. To be found desirable even though I didn’t have a model body, or perfect skin, or even a desired figure. I was plain and undefined, and overall, I was nothing special. But the way Everett held me, the way he looked at me, the way he kissed me—it was as if anything and everything else didn’t matter. It was like I was the only thing he noticed.

He listened to me when I talked; he valued what I had to say. He opened up to me like he trusted me fully, and he chose to spend his nights with me. He cared how I felt or if I was in pain, and he genuinely wanted to help when I was. I didn’t know what to do with all these feelings inside me, each touch bursting with energy, each kiss softening me in a way I never thought I could.

A tear escaped me from all the pent-up emotion, my body’s way of releasing. All my life, I had been ashamed of the tears that fled for any reason. Now, I accepted it, knowing it was just who I was.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He cut me off. Everett didn’t seem to mind as he pulled back while using his thumb to wipe the tears away. Relief flooded me.

“Why the tear?” he whispered against my cheek before kissing it.

“Is this what it feels like?” I hummed.

“What feels like?”

“To be admired?” I asked.

He shifted his weight until he was completely covering me from head to toe. He moved just so, so that he could look directly into my eyes as they zeroed in and focused solely on me. “I more than just admire you.”

“You do?” My mouth tilted.

“I do.” He kissed my opposite cheek. “I want to adore you.” He kissed my cheek. “I want to cherish you.” He kissed my forehead. “And I want to honor you.” He kissed my other cheek.

I placed a hand on his face. “I want to do the same for you, Ev.”

He kissed me once more, this time different from the others. The impact crushed my lips, taking the air from my lungs with it. I scratched at his jaw before using my hands to pull him closer, though it wasn’t enough. His hand found its way under my shirt and against my skin, his callous fingers brushing against me.

The heat of his touch caused goosebumps to erupt along the entirety of me. Every ligament was on fire. I was alive. I was whole. I was wanted.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. I didn’t know if Everett could ever love me as deeply as I was falling for him. I didn’t know how our story would end. But the young girl inside of me—being told she wasn’t enough, that she wasn’t pretty enough, strong enough, brave enough, good enough—she began to quiet, and the ferocious strength inside me started to flame.

Everett couldn’t heal me. He couldn’t save me or make me better than I was. Through his kindness, his spirit, his strength, I was beginning to see my own in a way I hadn’t seen before. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to shine brighter. A little more boldly and a little more fiercely.

39

HARPER

The next two weeks were a beautiful and blissful blur. Every morning, we took a light walk around the ranch grounds, hand in hand, stealing kisses whenever we could. We ate our meals together, and I spent the day sitting in most of his sessions. Our evenings swapped between music-induced swinging out front or snuggling on movie nights. The boys loved to find ways to sneak up on us and tease us, but more times than not, we joked right with them. Jasper was surprisingly accepting and encouraged it all.

My summer was coming to an end, and all I could think about was spending as much time with Everett as I possibly could. We hadn’t had the conversation yet of what would happen next, and I pushed away the trepidation following the thought. This was the part of the relationship that scared me most—long-term commitment. The idea that anyone would want to be strapped to this forever seemed implausible.

The stiff awareness throughout my joints gave me a moment of pause. I’d slept terribly as my mind raced at the endless possibilities.

If he asked me to stay, would I? Or better yet, should I? Could I ask him to come home with me? Not knowing where we stood made my end date at the ranch that much more daunting.

“Knock, knock.” Everett peeked his head through my bedroom door. “Good morning, beautiful.”

He walked in with a cup of warm tea, as was his ritual, and I sighed in relief. He was still here.

“Morning.” I smiled, knowing full well what I looked like. There was no use in arguing because Everett always won. “You came at the most perfect time.” I retrieved the warm cup and inhaled the hibiscus scent. “Thank you.”

He sat down beside me on the bed as I raised myself up to my sitting position. “How are you today?”

“Mmm,” was all I needed to say, and he knew. I didn’t like dwelling on how much I felt. “I’m sure a hot shower will help immensely.”

“Can I help?” he asked with a mischievous grin while placing a kiss on my cheek.

I just kissed him back, took a swig of my tea, and headed toward the bathroom.

“Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.” He winked and stood to smack my butt.

“You’re always wanted.” I paused for dramatic effect. I stopped at the doorway, grabbed his face with both of my hands, and placed a passionate kiss on his lips, sucking his bottom lip as I pulled away. “Don’t ever forget that.”

I finished my shower, placed some powder on my face, and walked back to my room to find Everett sitting on my bed. He shrugged.

“I didn’t want to leave.”

The swelling of comfort and reassurance radiated inside of me, like watching a sunrise. I shut the door behind me and moved toward him. I pushed him back lightly on the bed as I straddled him, placing kisses all over his face and throat. He groaned while placing his hands on my butt and squeezing.

“Stop being so damn irresistible,” he moaned.

I lay myself flat against him, feeling the warmth from his body as his heart beat wildly under me. I placed my head on my hand next to his face and took a moment to stare. Tracing my finger along his nose, eyebrows, jaw, and back again.

“I could say the exact same thing to you.”

His breath was heavy as his hands grasped my waist as if to never let go.

“I can’t believe you’re here. Why are you here?” Emotion choked me.

He closed his eyes for a second before leaning up on his elbows. “I will say it now and say it again, over and over until you believe me. I want to be here, Harp. Not to woo you. Not to just share sexy-as-hell kisses with you, but to be next to you. To hold you, to help you, to love you.”

“But what if you get sick of it? What if you tire of dealing with the hard days, and the sleepless nights, and the weeks that I can’t move? I don’t want to put that on you—on anyone. It isn’t fair.” A tear fell unwillingly.

Everett maneuvered his arm around me while the other lay me gingerly back on the bed. Now, his body lay on mine, holding me in place, keeping me warm and safe.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but my eyes welled shut, and I shook my head, trying to get my hands out from under him to cover my face. “Please,” his voice begged, and I complied. “I promise you, just as I promised you back then, I will never tire of you. I’ll never get sick of you. I’ll never not want to be with you in any form I can be. This ailment of yours, it’s just a small piece of who you are. It doesn’t define you. There is so much more to love than just this part. And I love this part because it’s made you who you are.”

“I want to believe you,” I whispered.

“I will spend the rest of my life helping you believe it.” He then wrapped me in his arms and kissed me all over, showing me every part of my frail, broken body was something he wanted—needed.

“Someone is here to see you,” Martha mentioned as we both walked hand in hand down the stairs to the kitchen.

We had skipped breakfast, lost in our time together, but both of us were starving and not prepared for what we were about to see.

“Who? Me or Everett?” I asked nonchalantly, working my way around the corner.

“Hello, Harper.”

I met the worn and weathered eyes of Everett’s mother, Trisha, whom I hadn’t seen since the day we had helped them pack years ago.

“Mrs. Jones! What a pleasant surprise.” I ran to give her a hug and was immediately met with an embrace. “I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

“My, you have grown into a beautiful woman.” She took a long glance at me. “Don’t you agree?” she asked Martha, and Martha hummed her response.

“Mom?” Everett stood, dumbfounded, unsure of how to move forward.

“Get yourself over here, Everett Jones, and greet your mother properly,” she chided with a half smile.

He stepped forward but looked like he was waking up from a bad dream. I grew leery as he hugged his mom with a lack of affection. That was not like Everett at all. Something wasn’t right.

“Are you not happy to see me?” she asked him.

“I am, but—”

“But nothing, young man. I flew all the way here to see you, and I hoped you’d be a little more enthusiastic.” She pouted.

That was new. I only remembered a well put together, never showing emotion Mrs. Jones. There was a thick layer of angst in the air, and I found Everett’s eyes glazing over. I looked at Martha, and she was more alert than I’d ever seen her. What was going on?

I mouthed to her to go get Jasper, and she nodded her head and slipped out the back door.

“Mom, what are you really doing here?” Everett asked warily with a bitter tone I’d never heard.

Her eyes shifted as she fiddled with the front of her sleeve. Something she often did when she was nervous. I remembered that well enough.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you to talk about it, but you stopped returning my phone calls.” She quivered.

“For a reason.”

“Your father—”

“I refuse to talk about him, Mom. Let it go.” His tone turned cold, and I took a step toward him.

“You are going to have to face it someday,” she corrected.

“No, I’m not. Please leave it be.” He moved to pace.

“Your father is here, Everett.” She spoke more authoritatively, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

There was a long beat of uncomfortable silence.

His stare threw daggers at her. “Are you kidding me right now?” Cold, hard ice daggers.

I moved to take his hand next to him, and he held on for dear life.

“No. I’m not kidding. He’s right outside by the car, waiting for you.”

“What the hell, Mom? How dare you! How dare you!” he yelled, and I placed my other hand on his arm to calm him. He took a long breath.

“Everett, he has been haunting our lives for many years. He’s done the time, he’s done the work, and he’s a changed man. Why can’t you just see for yourself?” She took a step toward him, and he recoiled. The hurt was apparent in her eyes. “Please, for your mom. Give him a chance.”

“After everything he’s put us through? After every beating he took out on you? You honestly can’t stand there and say you forgive him?” He stood in disgust.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He shook his head, let go of my hand, and walked away.

“Everett, wait!”

He paused.

“Don’t you want a life free of the hurt and the anger?”

He didn’t respond.

“If I can forgive him, so can you.” She met up with his statue-like self and placed her arm around him. “I know it hurts. Trust me, I know. But please stop letting this plague you. You deserve to be free. You have that choice.”

I saw the emotions shift in his face. I pleaded with him, hoping this wouldn’t be the turning page of him shutting everyone out again. This was a pivotal time for all of us.

Martha brought Jasper in through the kitchen, and my gaze begged him to do something. He looked at me, then at Everett, then at Trisha, and back again. The scene unfolding was unusual, and it took a minute for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Jones,” Jasper said, but he looked directly at Everett.

“You too, Jasper,” she responded, but her eyes also didn’t waver from Everett.

All of us were waiting for his next move. Everett looked at me, and the hurt in his countenance was like I could visually see his heart cracking into two.

I mouthed, I love you. You can do this, and he just kept breathing, unmoving.

The front door swung open, and Michael walked in. “Hey, there’s a man out front, saying he’s your dad, Ev—” He stopped mid-sentence as we all eyed him to be quiet. He dramatically shut his mouth, but it was too late.

Everett’s father walked in right behind Michael, and the air from the room disappeared.

Martha gasped, and I looked to her to see her crying.

“It can’t be.”

I moved my attention to Mr. Jones and back again to Martha, completely confused. The tension was so thick, so stifling, that I wanted to open a window and swallow fresh air.

“Hello, Ma,” Mr. Jones replied.

“What?” we all said in unison.

Martha stepped gingerly forward. She placed a hand on Everett’s dad’s face. “Is it really you?” she asked, and he nodded. The tears streaked her face, and she enveloped him in her arms.

“What the hell is happening?” Everett yelled.

“Mr. Jones is your missing son?” I asked Martha, and she smiled at me.

A relief shone brightly, and none of us knew what to say.

“But your last names, they aren’t the same,” I said.

“I changed my last name when I left home at eighteen,” Mr. Jones said. The young Mr. Marlow, it would seem. “That’s how we found out where you were, Everett. Once I contacted your mom, and I knew the connection of you working for Marlow’s Ranch, I knew I had to come back and face all my demons. Even the ones before you were born.” He stood with his hands in his pockets—something Everett did too. The notion was uncanny.

My head hurt from all that it was trying to process. I couldn’t imagine what Everett was feeling right now. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to pull him close to me and tell him everything was going to be okay. But this wasn’t a battle to fight. I had to let him decide which way to go and how to make his next move.

We waited anxiously, every person holding their breath, unsure of what to do.

Everett spoke up, the pain evident, as his countenance dropped. “I need some time,” was all he said before he practically ran out of the house.

Everett

I stomped out. I ran away. I couldn’t face it. It was all too much.

“Everett, wait!” Her voice was music to my ears, but I just couldn’t face her. I heard her steps quicken, and her hand touched my arm. “Please.”

I didn’t turn to look at that beautiful face. I knew what I would see—sadness, disappointment, worry. Harper had enough to deal with in this life, and she didn’t need me adding to it.

“Let me in,” her voice begged.

I wanted to, so desperately that it ached, but I just couldn’t.

I turned enough to kiss her forehead, my gaze not meeting hers. “I love you,” I breathed, and I picked up my pace, running to who knew where.

“I love you too,” I heard her voice whisper in the wind, and each word drove a bigger knife into my chest.

I ran without a second thought, running through the brush, the trees, the long and tall grass.

How could my own mom betray me in this way? How could she possibly think I would want anything to do with him after everything we suffered? How could anyone think I would stay and talk to the man who had destroyed years of my happiness? It was like brick after brick was laid upon my chest with each word till I finally crashed to the ground with no breath left in me.

Panting to catch my breath, I fought the urge to scream. Minutes passed so slowly, and all I heard was the sound of my own breathing and the wind rustling by. I stood up, ready to pound anything within my reach.

Fitting that I would find my way back here, to a place where I let go of so much pent-up emotion. Each step moved me to the tree I would smash repeatedly with a hammer until it all made sense—or at least until I could let it all out. I picked up the hammer, and I threw it against the trunk as hard as I could.

Thwack. Over and over again.

Each throw brought up the pain deeper down, every emotion bubbling to the surface until I had nothing left. I fell to the ground, and for the first time since I had been a child, I wept.

“Small choices. Like fighting it when you don’t want to. Getting up when you’d rather not. Trying something scary, damn the consequences, in order to actually live a life worth living, not just surviving,” I said.

“Can I ask you the same thing?” she said to me.

Could I make the right choice? Was right or wrong relevant? I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I hadn’t chosen to have an ass of a father. I hadn’t chosen the life I had been dealt. I didn’t want to have memories of many nights of sobbing or hearing my mom sobbing from his anger and inability to control himself. I didn’t want a father in my life. I didn’t know if I could forgive him. There was too much to unfold, too much to work through, just too much.

More memories flooded my mind, each one driving deeper than the last.

I looked at my bloodied knuckles as I walked shamefully toward the Masons’ home. Each step was another push of resentment in my chest. I pitied him. I hated him. I hated myself for letting him win over and over.

His fist pounding over and over into her face had been the final straw.

I walked over, pushed him against the wall with all my strength, and punched him so hard that I swore I heard his nose crack. While he doubled over from the pain, I stood in between my parents, demanding my mom get help. She left the house without a glance backward, and I just stood, staring at the worst father anyone could ask for. I was sick of his alcoholic rage being taken out on us. No more.

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on my mom ever again, you lowlife piece of shit.”

His eyes widened, as if he too were shocked at my altruism. I was eighteen now, ready to graduate, and I knew I could be held accountable for fighting back. But I was bigger, stronger than him now, and I no longer cared about the repercussions. I threw a glass vase at his feet, making sure my threat was undeniable.

“How many times have you broken something else in this home besides our spirits? No more. You’re done.”

I wiped the sweat forming off my brow as I wrapped my fist in my well-worn jersey. He stood, his chest rising and falling quickly but didn’t say a word. I turned my back on him without any remorse and walked out the door.

I hoped and prayed to whoever was listening that the Mason family—who was like my family, the family I wished I had been born into— wouldn’t rat me out to the cops.

As I walked across the lawn to their front door, both Jasper and Phil came running out. I braced myself for their reactions, but I was met with their arms around me instead.

“Thank God you’re all right,” Phil said, his embrace tightening.

Jasper placed his thumbs in his eyes, attempting to hide any sign of a tear coming. He stood in his boxer briefs, bat in hand, ready to defend me. My heart swelled with gratitude for both of them willing to show up for me.

The red and blue flashing lights lit up the night sky behind me, and I took a breath for what was about to come.

“Don’t you worry, son. Nothing is going to happen to you anymore.” Phil took a step in front of me and faced the cops himself.

Each minute passed like an hour while Jasper stood beside me, ready to fight on my behalf, as we watched my dad get cuffed and hauled off. His eyes were bloodshot, his face bloodied, and for the first time, I swore I saw a hint of remorse in his eyes.

I knew what we would have to do next. He might only last a night in jail, and we would be back in the thick of it. We had to leave—and soon.

I took a breath, forced a shield of ice to cover my heart, and went to find my mom.

What would Harper say? I couldn’t just waltz back in and refuse to do the right thing even if my head told me otherwise. I believed in her to make the choice to overcome what she was, what she had to deal with. Why couldn’t I do the same thing?

Maybe she was better off without me. Maybe I could just walk away, without a word to anyone, start a new life. No healing, no hard conversations, no overcoming. Just me, my music, and peace and quiet. I’d left once and started new. I could do it again. This time where no one could find me. It was easier.

Walk back and apologize.

Make amends.

Tell him you forgive him.

Run away.

Tell them I won’t.

I’m a hypocrite. I’m a monster. She won’t ever forgive me. I don’t deserve her.

All the words played around in my head, over and over, my mind spinning, causing me to vomit. I emptied the contents of my stomach and lay down on the ground, now looking up at the stars.

I’d promised her I would never leave.

That was all I could focus on. Whether I forgave him or not, it was imperative that I didn’t walk away. To prove to her, to prove to the boys, to prove to myself that running was not the answer.

I hadn’t prayed in a long time. I didn’t even know what I believed. But I knew I needed help to not let Harper down.

She was the peace among the tempest ever raging inside of me. My mind never stopped running. My aches never stopped aching. One look from her, and it all disappeared, and in an instant, the waters stilled. I had to find a way to hold on to that and never let go.

I lay there, looking up, and asked for help.

Give me the strength I need, God.

40

HARPER

I stared at the text for a long span of time.

Mom: How are you holding up? I miss you!

How was I holding up? Not well, Mom. Not well.

I’d thought we were in a good place, but then Everett disappeared for the entire day, and no one had seen or heard from him. It was hard not to take any of it personally even though I knew the reason.

“It’s been hours, Harp. You need to come in and get warm,” Jasper’s voice interrupted as I sat on the porch swing, rocking back and forth.

The worn wood strips scratched my arm as I sat. The moon shone bright, and the shadows danced in the night as the air grew crisp and a breeze began. I would wait as long as it took for Everett to come back.

Don’t do it, Everett. Don’t run away. I know you’re scared. I know it hurts. But please come back to me. I want to be with you.

I looked out, scanning each structure and tree for any sign or movement.

“Do you remember the night that I had my first panic attack from the wrong medicine?” I asked Jasper, but my focus still lay in front of me.

“Yeah, I do.” He wiped a hand over his face in defeat.

“Everett didn’t leave my side. He played that song till his hands hurt, and he sat in that chair next to me all night long. He didn’t have to do that.”

He hummed, agreeing.

“I’m not leaving this spot.”

“I figured you might say that.” He came from behind and placed a large quilt over my aching shoulders, the cold, frigid air cramping up each muscle and joint. He handed me a thermos of hot chocolate and pushed against my shoulder. “Scoot”.

I moved as he sat down next to me, his body taking up half the swing. He lifted his arm to rest on the back of the seat as his rough, calloused hand grazed my neck.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” I pleaded, holding back any sign of emotion. This was my time to be strong and to not break down.

“I know,” he stated, exhaling a puff of air.

As always, Jasper was by my side. He could have followed Everett or stayed in to make peace with the situation. He could have stayed with the boys, who all gossiped in their beds. Instead, he had chosen to sit with me. Knowing that we were not alone in this world made the long nights more bearable.

“Everyone inside is wondering whether you’ll come in.”

“I can’t believe they’re staying the night here.” I looked back through the window behind me, and Martha’s eyes were beaming as she spoke across the table with her son and new-to-her daughter-in-law. It was hard to be mad when I saw how much love was there. Martha had been waiting for this day for over thirty years. If anyone deserved it, it was her.

“Harp, it’s Martha’s long-lost son. We might not like him, but we can support her in her reunion with him.”

“I know; you’re right. I just can’t separate the two yet.” I shook my head and placed a hand on my stomach. “He was a terrible husband and father, Jasp. How can we just forget that and embrace him as her son? I know she loves him, but he ran away so long ago, and now, we know why. He was addicted to every horrible thing there was. Thinking you could change when you met someone you love, like Trisha, wasn’t enough for him. Even having a son wasn’t enough for him to push his vices away. He hurt them. For years. How do we forget that?”

I was so worked up. I internalized everything Everett was feeling. I longed to be in his arms, to reassure him, to tell him everything he felt was okay to feel.

“We don’t have to forget it. But we can forgive. We can try to look past it. We can accept the apology, whether it’s real or not, for the sake of Martha, and Everett, and everyone else involved. Forgetting is pretending it didn’t happen, and it did. It wasn’t okay. It’ll never be okay to do the things he’s done. Being wary isn’t a bad thing. Showing kindness to people who don’t deserve it isn’t a bad thing either.”

“When did you become so wise?” I leaned my head on his shoulder while not letting my gaze waver in hopes of seeing something.

“I’ve always been wise. You just never noticed,” he mocked, and I grunted in response.

“I can’t imagine how Everett feels. This is all so much.” I sighed. “I’m worried about him.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “I can’t believe Everett is Martha’s grandson. They’ve always had a tight bond.”

“He couldn’t ask for a better grandma.”

“And now, Martha knows of a daughter-in-law. She has three people she can love. This all might suck, and it might hurt, but that is something meaningful to come out of it all.”

“It’s true. You’ve always been a glass half full kind of guy, huh?”

Shadows caught my eye. I squinted to focus and saw a few boys walking toward us. The will to smile and greet in full excitement was not something I could conjure up.

“We thought you could use some company.” Landon sat down on the edge of the porch by my feet, wrapping his hands in his sweatshirt.

“You heard?” I asked, knowing full well the answer.

“News travels pretty fast around here. Even when we were on the south end of the pasture for most of the day,” Clarence said, sitting next to Landon. “I missed all the juicy stuff.”

“I was here,” Michael chimed in, boasting.

“Where were you supposed to be?” Clarence argued, arms folded as their dueling never stopped.

“If you minded your own business, I would get back to what I was trying to say,” Michael rebutted.

Clarence puffed his chest out.

“Dude, you guys, this is not about you,” Landon corrected them. “We are here for Harper and for Everett. Just zip it.”

Everyone looked at him with admiration. He had stood up to them for the first time, and even though his eyes shifted with nervous energy, he lifted his head as both boys eyed him and then gave him knuckles for manning up. They shared a smile and moved on.

“I don’t know whether to be happy for Martha or crazy angry for Everett,” Michael said from behind Landon. He stood while the others were sprawled out around us. “How long has he been gone?”

“Hours,” Jasper said as his jaw tensed.

“What can we do?” Michael asked.

“We wait,” I said quietly.

Everyone nodded as the sound of rustling leaves filled the silence.

“I wish I could give him a hug.” Landon, out of all the boys here, knew something of what Everett was fighting inwardly, coming from an abusive home himself.

Being young and still soft around the edges, he was willing to see the good, no matter what. I hoped, as we all did, that this would be a way to work through the trauma together. The only one who could make that happen still hadn’t shown up yet.

I held myself together, wrapping the quilt closer around me, as if to hold me up. I had to push away the thought of him choosing not to come back. He had every right to. He knew how to run, and he knew how easy it would be to start over somewhere else, leaving all of us in the dust. Natural responses sometimes won over all logic.

My hands trembled as the nerves picked up. I closed my eyes, breathing down the lump that made a home in my throat. We’d made huge strides in the last few weeks that it almost seemed possible. He would fight it and come back, wouldn’t he?

“Do you think we could play while we wait?” Clarence asked sheepishly, running his hand through his tousled blond hair. “I’ve been practicing.” He held up a guitar he had sitting under the porch.

Jasper was the first to speak up. “I think that’s the best thing to do right now.” He blinked several times, pushing back his own emotions.

Seeing these boys turn into something more than the broken kids they had shown up here as and seeing them caring deeply for one of their leaders gave us all hope for good things to come. Life without hope was a life lost.

“Cool.” Clarence moved his fingers awkwardly over the strings as he tried to play chords without messing up.

It took time and patience to remember the right notes to play the songs we sang around the campfire. He made faces, knowing he wasn’t excelling yet, and we all took turns encouraging him to continue.

We all sang along, our voices somber and mellow. A tear escaped me as Clarence played one of Everett’s favorite songs. Jasper, having had his arm around me, reached to wipe it away.

“Do you believe he will come back?” I spoke so quietly that it was barely audible.

The thought could not be any clearer that if he came back, no matter where or when or how, I had to be by his side. This weight I now carried was not worth the insecurities that came with it. A piece of my soul was missing—half of everything I was. I didn’t just want it back. I needed it.

“I believe in him. That is enough.” Jasper responded.

“How many hours has it been?” Landon yawned.

“Two,” Clarence responded. “Sorry my fingers can’t handle playing for that long.”

We were all huddling together, trying to keep each other warm. The air had turned, and the cold bit our skin. We swapped stories, we laughed, we teased, and even though the overall mood was sullen, we were together—like a family, waiting for one of our own.

“Stop elbowing me.” Clarence shoved an arm into Michael’s side.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I would punch you,” he rebutted, closing his eyes while he folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the porch post.

Landon yawned and laid his head down on my knee. Jasper started whistling a tune, trying to keep us all awake.

My mind drifted in and out of consciousness as my eyes weighed heavily. Black-and-white figures danced in the moonlight. Open. Close. Open … close. Open. My eyes locked on to a figure walking toward us, and my heart dropped into my stomach. I knew that saunter from anywhere. I pulled the blanket away from me, causing Landon to move, and Jasper stopped his tune. I stood up, hand on my throat, catching the words that wouldn’t come.

He came.

His footsteps matched the beat of my heart, each step slow and methodical, and I anxiously awaited what was to come.

I jumped down from the porch, and for the first time in months, I ran. My joints barely complied. I ran right into his embrace, and his arms folded tightly around my back, pulling me in close, and he breathed in at the nape of my neck.

“You came back.” My words were barely audible.

He nodded his head and tightened his grip around me, not satisfied. I held on to him as if my life depended on it, worried if I let go, he would vanish in front of me, like an illusion. Desperate for reassurance, I clung to his warmth, feeling the beating of his heart and the pulsing of his blood, reminding me that he was, in fact, real.

“Please tell me this isn’t a dream. You’re here—here to stay, right?” I whispered, allowing the tears to fall.

“It’s not a dream, love.” He kissed my throat. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed a little harder around my waist with his words.

Shuffling of footsteps broke our trance as all three boys and Jasper gathered around us, breaking our seal and sharing hugs around. He never let go of my hand.

“I’m sorry I left.” His voice was weak. He spoke to everyone, but he looked at me.

“We’re just glad you’re back,” Landon piped in, shrugging his shoulders.

“Psh, we would have hunted you down eventually,” Clarence said, and Michael agreed.

Jasper placed a hand on his shoulder—something he often did. “Welcome home, Ev.”

They shook hands that led into a brotherly embrace. Nothing else was said in words, but the look they gave each other was an unspeakable bond.

“It’s late. Let’s get everyone to bed.” Pulling his authoritative side, Jasper led the boys to the barn.

We nodded and turned to the front door when it opened, and Martha, Mr. Jones, and Trisha worked their way down the steps.

“Son?” Mr. Jones questioned.

Everett looked directly at him, not wavering, though his eyes were weary and his body weak. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“Can I say something?”

Everett nodded to give him permission to talk. Everyone circled back around, not wanting to miss a moment of understanding. We waited patiently, each second a thud pulsating in my chest. I moved to his side, squeezing his hand harder. The silence was deafening.

“I—I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve anything. You don’t even have to stand here in front of me, and I would understand.” He wiped his hand across his peppered whiskers. “I just wanted you to know that I regret every moment I ever hurt you or your mom. And I know it doesn’t make a difference, but I’m sorry.”

The pain showed in everyone’s countenance. This wasn’t something easily said or easily accepted. Years and years of mistreatment had led to this moment. The next step was entirely up to Everett. He would be justified either way he chose to move forward.

Everett’s face softened as he took the time and just looked at his dad. Mr. Jones paused in his movements as we held our breath. I tightened my grip on Everett’s hand as he took a small step forward. And then another. He raised his opposite hand up to offer a handshake. This was his truce.

“Really?” his dad asked in surprise as Trisha gasped.

“Really,” he said, sturdy as the tree trunks surrounding us.

Mr. Jones raised his hand and accepted Everett’s as a step toward peace. They held each other for several beats, looking heavy with emotion and long exhales. Mr. Jones’s lips curved. Everett didn’t reciprocate, but he nodded his understanding with a willingness to move forward.

I placed a hand on my heart as the importance of this pivotal moment ignited in my chest, like a firework. Everett had made a choice. He chose to move forward. However that looked, however slow he needed, he was moving ahead. I wiped away the persistent tears streaming down my face. Every one of us knew the significance this held.

I placed my other hand around his arm, pulling him close to me, and the muscle in his arm relaxed. He looked down at me, and I saw the pleading there. He looked worn out, and it was my time to show up for him. He needed me. I nudged him forward to move the night along.

“We will talk more in the morning. Thank you to everyone for caring. It means a lot.” Everett spoke in quiet confidence, eyeing every person around him before pulling me closer, wrapping his arm around me and leading us into the house.

He kissed my forehead as we took a step up the stairs and then another.

Each step embodied walking away from a piece of his past that he never thought he would ever be able to let go of. It led to walking toward a piece of his future with me, these boys, and a life with less pain—all from one small choice of not running away.

41

HARPER

“I realized something tonight.” Everett spoke in a quiet tone as he snuggled up next to me on the bed, pulling me closer.

My legs snaked around his, and every part of our bodies was attached, my foot playing with his. It was well past midnight, and each of us fought to keep our eyes open.

“Well, actually, two things.”

“What’s that?” I hummed as I wiggled closer to him for warmth, my eyes still closed.

“You were right.” He paused. “I had to make a choice. I couldn’t keep running.” He sighed and scratched his jaw. “It was the hardest choice I’d ever made in my life.”

“I know it was.” I stroked his arm.

“I don’t know where it leaves me with my dad, but I do know I feel lighter because of it.” He let out a breath.

“I’m so proud of you, Ev.” I kissed his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. “I have to be honest. I feared the worst toward the end. I didn’t want to. I’d held it together all day. But seeing you come back was the relief I needed.”

“Seeing you there, all of you, waiting for who knows how long for me to get my act together, it was humbling.” He kissed my forehead.

“I would do it all over again—twice over, if I had to. You need to see that you don’t have to do this life alone.” I stopped my hand and paused. “I don’t think life was made for us to walk it alone. We were made to be with others, connecting and loving. That’s how we thrive as people.”

“So, you’ve finally realized you’re not meant to be alone in it either?” He questioned me, and the truth hit hard.

“Yes, I suppose I have.” I smiled against him, inhaling his scent and embracing the calm that sat between us. “I promise to let you be there for me, even through the crappy days and nights, if you promise to let me do the same. No more pushing each other away. It just leads to us hurting more than we need to.”

“I promise.” He placed his tender lips on mine. “So, the second thing I realized: I never asked you if you wanted to stay.”

My eyes flickered open like an alarm going off inside my head. I leaned up on my elbow to face him. “Stay … at the ranch?”

“Yeah.” He turned into me, our faces inches apart. “I know your life is in Arizona, and if you want me to move there to be with you, I will. Without question.” He took my hand, kissing the back of it before continuing, “But I thought about it a lot tonight. We could use you here. With your teaching degree and your ability to connect with these boys, it just feels right. We could find our own place, of course, so we don’t have to live in separate rooms with a shared bathroom. Maybe even start a new program and—”

“Everett, I’m not entirely sure I understand.”

“Tonight was eye-opening for me, Harp. It was hard. Harder than I’d thought it would be. It was emotional and draining. I did things I’d never thought I would do. I turned a corner. I asked for help, and I made the choice to stay and fight, and that is all because of you.” He pulled me down beside him and wrapped his arms around me, the warmth of his breath against my forehead.

“When I wanted to give up and run away, the only thing that kept me sturdy was you. I need you in my life. I love you more than I thought I was capable of. I want you to stay here with me. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t want to get down on one knee and propose to you because I do, but I also know it’s too soon in our newfound relationship to ask for that. What I am asking is that you stay. Be with me, with your brother and Martha and the boys. Let’s see this through. I want to share my life with you, and I don’t want to do it without you.”

I could have sat in silence, replaying every word, agonizing over each problem I found. I could have pulled back and questioned him, wondering why he would even want me to stay. I could have done many things, but instead, I shut off all the endless thoughts in my mind. I followed my heart, and I jumped in headfirst. “Okay.”

“Really?” His surprise was icing on an already-delectable cake.

“Would this reassure you?” I turned my face to meet his and kissed him hard, like a need that couldn’t be complete.

He hummed without hesitation, “Mmhmm.”

“I can’t live without you either,” I mumbled against his lips.

His hands moved around me, pulling me down underneath him, and his body swallowed me whole. I wrapped my arms around his neck, the need to be closer unsatisfied. Each kiss drove my heart deeper into the sea of unwavering truth. We were lost in each other’s arms, lost in one another’s touch. Each caress provided more healing and reassurance than the last.

Dear pain,

If I could say one thing to you, it would be to say thank you. The idea of ever appreciating you is foreign to me, but as I look back on all the devastatingly painful moments we shared, I knew it was all for the greater good. To lead to this moment in my life of implicit joy and peace, realizing I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it wasn’t for you, makes me not bitter, but welcoming to your ways. The subtly and overpowering of my senses you brought could have been earth shattering. It could have destroyed me. But it didn’t. I rose from the ashes, and I spit in your face. I am done believing in your lies, and I’m ready to let you go. For good. I will take what you’ve given me, and I will raise you contentment. Strength. Power. Within myself and within the lives I’m around. So, thank you. For everything you’ve taken. You’ve given me more than anything else ever will. And that’s enough for me.

Thank you and goodbye to your hold on me.

Sincerely,

Harper

The next morning, we all sat around the kitchen table, and with Martha’s pleading, we weren’t allowed to leave until everything was hashed out. She refused to let more time pass without hard feelings somewhat resolved, as she had waited years and years for this moment in her life to happen, not knowing if it ever would.

Jasper took all the boys on a nature hike with Johnny so the rest of us could talk in private. I didn’t know if my presence was welcome, but Everett insisted I not leave his side, so I didn’t.

“Yesterday gave us plenty of time to talk and work through some forgiveness,” Martha started. “But that doesn’t change the fact that there is a lot of hurt in this circle, and we need to find a way to heal from it.” She placed a hand on Everett’s cheek as he sat next to her, squeezing my hand under the table. “I knew there was a reason I felt so connected to you, honey. This was just icing on the cake. My boy has returned, and I gained a daughter and a grandson I had already grown to love.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and Everett reciprocated.

“Thanks, Martha. I already love you too.”

She patted his cheek once more before focusing on Mr. Jones.

“Now, you have some explaining to do, my boy. Not to me, for I already forgave you. To Everett,” she called him out, and we all waited in silence.

“May I speak up first?” Trisha asked, and Martha nodded. “I know it wasn’t right of me to just show up here, unannounced, and force you to deal with something difficult, Everett. I own that, and I apologize. I just didn’t know what else to do when you stopped returning my calls. I needed to see you and make sure you were okay here. Finding your dad was just killing two birds with one stone.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me or your father for how we handled things while you were growing up. I know I wasn’t the best mom, but I did the best I could with what I had.”

“No, you were a good mom. You taught me well and protected me for as long as you could. I don’t blame you for anything.” Everett’s voice was thick with emotion.

She grabbed his hand from across the table and squeezed it.

“I am the one to blame for all of it.” Mr. Jones spoke up. “I take full responsibility. I was a jackass when I was drunk, and I treated you both poorly for many years. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I am four years sober now. And though I can’t change the past, and I would understand if you want nothing to do with me, I still needed to try. Starting with seeing Mom again.” He looked to Martha as her eyes shone with adoration. “Thank you for forgiving me for thirty long years.”

They shared a look.

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” Everett grumbled, his eyes on the table, his hand squeezing my thigh.

I placed both hands on his, holding it close.

“We understand, honey. All we ask is that you try,” Martha said. The softness in her voice could calm anyone.

He took several beats to ponder, keeping his eyes solely focused on the centerpiece, fiddling with his fingers, as if he needed to play his guitar. I looked around the table, and every one of them held emotion in their stares, anticipating a positive outcome, but understanding if not.

“Okay,” Everett said, meeting his dad’s eyes.

“Okay?” he questioned.

“I’ll try,” Everett responded. “If I’ve learned anything over the course of these few months, it’s that I have to make the choice in order to make the change.” He looked at me with pleading in his gaze.

Everyone sighed, smiling at each other.

I leaned in to kiss Everett quickly. “I’m so dang proud of you.”

“I love you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in close.

“This makes me happier than I can say.” Trisha spoke up, her gaze cheerful and endearing. “I always thought something would happen between you two.”

I smiled, a lightness filling my chest. Everett kissed my forehead, and I reached out to squeeze Trisha’s hand.

It might not be perfect, and we might not have answers yet, but life was looking upward, and that was all I could ask for. This summer had not only given me a bigger sense of purpose and meaning, but I’d found love along the way. Not just love for the man of my dreams or the boys on the ranch, but also a love for myself. I was worth it.

EPILOGUE

Harper

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

I’d never realized how deeply we needed people until I came to Marlow’s Boys Ranch. I had my brother, my parents, and my best friend, and I didn’t think I needed anything else. I worried about the weight others would have to carry by knowing me or spending time with me, so keeping to myself was best.

Then, I’d met these boys, and I got reunited with Everett, and a piece of my heart fell into place that I hadn’t even known was missing.

Sometimes we needed others to help us see the good in ourselves. To help us believe in our strengths and to focus on what was important. Life was difficult enough to suffer through it all alone. In our darkest moments, the strength and love of another person could be what helped us get back on our feet again and find that power within ourselves.

Time flew by faster than I could hold on to. We’d already experienced our first winter, and it was bitterly cold. Everett found a new naturopathic doctor in the area that came highly recommended. Every two weeks for the past six months, I drove the hour to visit and work on new therapies that were decreasing my inflammation marks in my blood. We found new techniques to help my mobility, and in time, I was learning I could stretch myself a little bit more than I’d ever thought possible.

Once a week, Everett and I did cold plunges in the watering hole as the weather shifted and spring was on the horizon. The cold did, in fact, lower my inflammation. He encouraged me with my limits, always pushing me a little more than I’d thought possible, and I was overcoming something new frequently.

As I progressed physically, he progressed emotionally. He was on speaking terms with his father. He opened up with the boys about experiences he’d had as a boy, and it opened a new world for them to feel understood. It healed his heart in the process. He forgave his mom, and she was elated to have a new mother to turn to. She promised to come visit as long as he promised the same. We came up with a plan for my parents to come down quarterly as well, dragging Jasper with us back to AZ to visit. They weren’t thrilled with the idea of me no longer being within driving distance, but they supported me in my decision, so long as I called daily.

A piece of the garage was drywalled in for my new office. Each boy came in weekly to talk with me, whether to work through school problems or find something new to work on. I was the goal maker and the unofficial cheerleader. Between my teaching degree, my classes in psychology, and all the experience I’d had in my life with chronic illness, I used everything I had learned as a way to connect more with the boys, especially the new ones coming in.

It all came down to a choice: knowing your limits, knowing what you could handle. But, most of all, knowing what you were capable of just by simply trying. The possibilities were endless.

Our problems didn’t disappear. My physical ailment still affected my daily life. My pain didn’t magically get better; it took a lot of conscious daily choices. Everett’s past still triggered him in certain situations. Life still happened. But through it and with each other, we found a place of peace.

And that was irreplaceable.

Everett proposed two months after I moved into the ranch, not able to last any longer. We knew it was a short amount of time, but we knew it was right. The wedding was set for the following spring at the ranch. All my extra time went into planning a simple wedding ceremony about to take place.

I started believing in myself more and more as I was willing and open to try new experiences. They weren’t easy, and oftentimes, I would have to quit in the middle, but I refused to give up trying. I wanted to live. I wanted to feel more than just pain. Within the pain, there was joy and fortitude, and I chased that feeling like a kid on a playground.

An indescribable feeling overwhelmed me as I moved through my newest obstacle. I was jogging—for the first time in my life. Each step was more empowering than the last. Everett was beside me, slow and steady, like he always was. We had trained for a 5K, and I jogged almost the entire way.

“You got this, babe, just a little bit farther,” Everett encouraged through shallow breaths, trailing alongside me.

“I—am having a—hard time—breathing. Got to focus, honey. Love you.” I licked my lips and kept pushing.

I could see the large banner stating the finish line straight ahead. Only a few more steps, and I would have made it.

Take that, doctors.

The most celebrated experience for me was barely making it across that finish line—sweat dripping down my face, knees throbbing, heart pounding—but I did it.

“You did it!” Charly yelled, whistling at the other side of the banner.

She had come to help me plan the wedding and wanted to be a part of the race too.

“Yeah! Go, Harper!” I heard Michael’s, Clarence’s, and Landon’s voices.

Jasper stood, smiling and whistling as loud as he could. It was overwhelming to see them all there, cheering for me. I collapsed as my legs fell out from under me. Covering my face with my hands, I sobbed.

“Babe, you’re incredible.” Everett picked me up and spun me around, kissing all over my face.

You’re never going to be active again, they had said. You can’t overexert your body, they had said. You’ll fuse before you turn thirty, they had thought.

Look at me now. Look at me.

I’d accomplished an adventure of my lifetime. What once had been forbidden in my existence had become a reality.

I’d never felt so alive. I’d never wept so hard either.

Circling my arms around Everett’s neck, I soaked his shirt as everyone came close to us. I looked around me, a smile covering the entirety of my face, and its comfort spread all the way down to my toes.

“Thank you for helping me see my own strength, Ev. You continue to help me heal in places I never thought I could. I wish—I wish I could do the same for you.”

“Harp, you’re what helped me to believe the world was good again. I’m on speaking terms with my dad. You made the impossible possible.” He held me close. “More than anything, I get to love you, and it’s the best thing I’ll ever do.” He spoke softly in my ear.

I kissed him tenderly, unable to speak.

Here I was, surrounded by the people I loved and the people who loved me, making miracles happen.

Life was full of the unexpected. The broken, the beautiful, the longing, and the fulfilled. Every moment, every touch, every positive experience led to a charged battery. One to give me hope. To give me a little bit more to get through the next hurdle or the next climb. And even with the pain that would inevitably come, I was ready for the climb.

AUTHOR NOTE

Carry Me Away started as a figment of an emotion while listening to John Mayer’s version of “Carry Me Away”. I didn’t intentionally name it after his song, but when I found the voice of my inner child crying out to be “carried” from all the pain I experienced, I knew this story had to be told.

It holds a special place in my heart, not only because its something I have put blood, sweat, and tears into, but because I’ve always wanted to give the fifteen-year-old me a happy ending I never thought I would have. Being diagnosed with AS at age seven, dealing with daily pain, I didn’t think it was possible that someone could ever love me and all that came with me. Because of actual daily prayers, fast forward a few years, I found my man who loves me in-spite of it all. I am so lucky to have him.

But, the point wasn’t to have someone love me. The point was for me to learn to love myself—exactly as I was, whether I got “better” or not. This is something I’ve spent my entire life finding, and even though I’m not great at it, I’ve learned the power behind being kind to myself.

Even though I spent my life hiding away this ailment and not wanting to talk about it much, I’ve learned that shame attached to that feeling, and I no longer wanted to have that.

Writing this story was not only healing for me in many ways, but I hope and pray someone else may need to hear it too.

Love comes in many different forms. Romantic love is the most common and adored. I myself love it. In this story I wanted to show all types, between a grandma figure and her “boys”, leaders and teachers and their students, siblings, lifetime friends, neighbors, and all those that step into our lives in ways we don’t always imagine and can fill voids in our hearts in a way no one can understand.

I hope as you’ve read Carry Me Away, you’re able to be filled with a little more love for those surrounding you. And most importantly, love for yourself. Every single one of you is loved, with everything you come with.

“If you have the ability to love, love yourself first.” -Charles Bukowski

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First I want to thank you, the reader, for taking time out of your life to read something I wrote! Bless you.

Second, I have to always acknowledge the hand of God in my writing. It may have taken three years to write with an unexpected pregnancy and two beautiful baby boys, but I couldn’t have done it without strength to write through the hard stuff.

I could not have finished this book, adding heart and soul, cleaning it up, making it better, without my good friend S.L. Astor. You’ve been there supporting me, cheering me on, answering my million questions and helping me with so many sentences. Thank you for always answering my pestering texts. I’m so grateful for you.

Thank you to Jovana at Unforeseen Editing for cleaning up my mess of pregnancy and newborn brain, for Tracey B and her thorough proofreading and kindness towards me. Thank you to my critique group for being patient with me as I learn. Martha, Kasey, and Kortney, you guys are great. Thank you to my awesome Beta readers, Kathy (you gave me courage when I had none), Shaylee (your insight and experience touched me and helped more than you know), Stephanie (you boosted me up so much), Courtney (for being the best cheerleader), Noelle (for being my friend), Lauren, Sydney, Madison, Michelle, Charde, and Elle.

I want to thank all the friendships I have been given on bookstagram. I wouldn’t be here without any of you, and I’m grateful for your love and your support.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in Gilbert, AZ, Ashley Weston loves her family, God, and the ability to dream.

Ashley has dreamed of writing a novel since she was in the third grade when she wrote her first short story. It wasn’t until she began working with incredible people and having a good support system that she realized her dreams could become reality.

Ashley loves being a mom to four passionate souls, making friends, having dance parties, baking to her hearts content, and reading till all hours of the morning. Her hope is to convey emotions that uplift and encourage you, while making you swoon, through the art of storytelling.

For upcoming book releases, author notes, and more, check out her website at https://alwestonauthor.squarespace.com or look for updates on Facebook, Instagram, Threads, and TikTok @ashleywestonauthor.