I fled the horse stall and bumped into someone. Hands grabbed my arms. “Easy there.” I blinked the tears away to find Thatcher. “I came to check on Maple and the—” His easy smile slipped away. “You okay, darlin’?”

I nodded absently. “Will you… will you stay with Claire?” I asked, not wanting to leave the little girl unsupervised.

He studied my face as if he could read my problems. “Sure thing.”

I walked off, out the far side of the stable, and leaned against the wall. I let the tears fall then. Cute, sassy, whip-smart Claire could have been mine. Mine and Huck’s. The blonde curls. The blue eyes. The sassy disposition. She wouldn’t have ever considered her daddy being bought. If she were the baby we’d made—even accidentally—she’d know she’d been created from love. A connection like her Nana’s and PopPop’s.

I started walking, cutting through the tall grass, blind to which direction I was going. Huck believed all the secrets between us had been shared. That my dad’s threat and Huck’s acquiescence was the only thing that had kept us apart. But there was one secret that I still held. It was a loss that couldn’t be fixed or worked through. He deserved to know the truth. Now, especially. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to break it to Huck that he’d lost more that day he’d walked away than he ever realized.

16

HUCK

I’d barely gotten out of the shower when I got a text from Noreen letting me know Lynn Bunker called in to make a police report that her car had been stolen from the grocery store parking lot.

Water dripped down my back as I sent her a 10-4 back, informing her I saw the message. She hadn’t texted for me to be on the lookout for the fancy car. I was sure it was on to some chop shop somewhere by now. She’d texted because she knew I was with Sarah and probably wanted to tell her. We hadn’t talked about how close she was with Lynn these days, but we’d get there. I also thought that Bunky’d had some pretty shitty luck this weekend.

I was halfway to the barn in fresh jeans, T-shirt, and boots when I got another text, this one from Thatcher. Sarah was crying and had ducked out the back side of the stable. I couldn’t imagine how a five-year-old and a bunch of puppies would upset her, but she and I had dealt with some heavy shit the past few days.

I’d gotten two texts in about fifteen minutes. It wasn’t impossible that her dad had reached out and fucked with her some more.

I picked up my pace and detoured around the building instead of going inside, knowing my brother would take care of Claire. I stopped when I saw Sarah in the distance, sitting on a boulder in the middle of the field.