I grin, my focus drawn to where Shelby is laughing at something Beth is saying while carrying an armful of wood up toward the deck.

“Riggs?” Kevin’s tone is stern.

I ignore him and get to my feet. Passing him my beer, I say, “Hold this for me, will you?”

I jump down the steps to meet the ladies halfway and Shelby passes the load off with a grateful smile.

“It’s white oak,” she gushes, her navy eyes twinkling with happiness. “Old construction. Looks like it’s been salvaged from a barn or maybe another shed. It was just sitting in there, all preserved and perfect, like it was waiting for me. Kevin was going to burn it!” She admonishes my friend as if he was going to pee on the wood and then cover it with puff paint.

“Thank God you were here to save it,” I say dryly. Beth laughs at Shelby’s sheepish expression before hollering after one of their kids, who’s shoveling sand into the grass.

“It’s not a ton,” Shelby says in a low tone. “But it’s enough to make something for Beth and Kevin. Like a hanging address sign or maybe something for their foyer? Beth seems to like farmhouse decor.”

“They would love that. Or maybe something for the nursery?” I suggest.

Shelby’s entire face lights up. “Yes!”

“I’m gonna throw these in the back of my truck, then.”

When I return, Shelby’s stolen my chair, so I retrieve my beer and settle on the end of the deck in front of her, leaning back against her knees, my legs dangling.

“The thing is,” she’s saying to Kevin and Beth, “I honestly was that bad in my late teens and early twenties. I’m not proud of it, but Cam knows it’s true. He saw me at my lowest.”

“Highest?” I suggest, and she smacks the back of my head as Kevin and Beth laugh.

“Maybe highest,” she concedes. “Either way, it wasn’t good. I have entire periods of time that I don’t really remember. I was barely old enough to vote and was getting the VIP treatment in clubs and pissing away money. Entirely lost and lonely. Lyle’s a fucker,” she whispers the last word, being mindful of the little ears in the yard. “But he wasn’t in any position to take care of me, and I certainly didn’t care about him.

“My point being,” she finishes, “the reputation was earned, and they had every reason to say the things they did in that article.”

“That’s debatable. Mess or no, you were a kid, Shelb. You shouldn’t have to carry your mistakes forever,” I say.

“But I will,” she says, ruffling my hair.