Found her in the shadows just beyond the reach of the crackling bonfire, wrapped around Eli Garrett like a roll of freshly glued wallpaper, the two of them kissing as if they were trying to swallow each other. Oblivious to the revelry, the laughter, the joking, the swilling of keg beer, they might as well have been alone on the planet.

The sight had struck Cord with the impact of a mule’s kick, busting through the thin layer of denial like a revelation from on high.

The crowd, noisy and fluid a second before, had gone into instant freeze-frame.

With that silence came a second realization, almost as humiliating as the first.

Everyone in Painted Pony Creek had known what Reba was doing that summer. Everyone except J.P., Eli and Cord himself.

He’d glanced J.P.’s way, seen his own reaction reflected in his friend’s face.

Finally noticing that something was up, Eli and Reba had eased apart, Eli’s expression wary, Reba’s confused, then startled, then panicked.

Eli had pried himself from her loosened embrace, and she’d clung to him for a moment before she let him go.

Although Cord would have liked that fateful evening to end in calm, rational discussion, three close friends reasoning things out, coming to terms with the obvious, it hadn’t gone down that way.

Instead, after a few heated words, they’d lit into each other, then and there.

If half the varsity football team hadn’t separated them, they probably would’ve done some lasting damage.

They’d emerged with bloodied knuckles, world-class shiners and fat lips. Superficial stuff, not that unusual, considering the ways of teenage boys, especially ones raised rough-and-tumble, country-style.

Sadly, the real injuries ran much deeper.

The bond of trust, something they’d depended on, even held sacred, albeit unconsciously, had been broken. All three of them felt betrayed, sold out by the two people they’d believed would always have their backs, no matter what.

Reba, meanwhile, had quietly disappeared, caught a ride back to the Painted Pony Motel, packed her stuff and skipped town.

No explanations, no excuses and certainly no apologies.

She was just gone.

For good.

Her absence should have calmed the troubled waters a little, but it hadn’t.

The three amigos, inseparable since first grade, were on the outs, and it had felt permanent.

Glancing at his friends now, Cord could hardly believe it.

That fall, they’d gone their separate ways without so much as a goodbye.

Cord had entered his freshman year at the University of Montana, Eli opted for a criminal justice course over in Seattle, and J.P., who had completed a special ROTC program in his junior and senior years of high school, joined the army.

J.P.’s first leave happened to fall at Christmastime and, prior to starting more high-level, if-I-tell-you-I’ll-have-to-kill-you training, came home to be with his family.