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Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for the novels of Mia Sheridan
  3. About the Author
  4. NOTE TO READERS
  5. Dedication
  6. prologue
  7. chapter one
  8. chapter two
  9. chapter three
  10. chapter four
  11. chapter five
  12. chapter six
  13. chapter seven
  14. chapter eight
  15. chapter nine
  16. chapter ten
  17. chapter eleven
  18. chapter twelve
  19. chapter thirteen
  20. chapter fourteen
  21. chapter fifteen
  22. chapter sixteen
  23. chapter seventeen
  24. chapter eighteen
  25. chapter nineteen
  26. chapter twenty
  27. chapter twenty-one
  28. chapter twenty-two
  29. chapter twenty-three
  30. chapter twenty-four
  31. chapter twenty-five
  32. chapter twenty-six
  33. chapter twenty-seven
  34. chapter twenty-eight
  35. chapter twenty-nine
  36. chapter thirty
  37. chapter thirty-one
  38. chapter thirty-two
  39. chapter thirty-three
  40. chapter thirty-four
  41. chapter thirty-five
  42. chapter thirty-six
  43. chapter thirty-seven
  44. chapter thirty-eight
  45. chapter thirty-nine
  46. chapter forty
  47. chapter forty-one
  48. chapter forty-two
  49. chapter forty-three
  50. chapter forty-four
  51. chapter forty-five
  52. chapter forty-six
  53. chapter forty-seven
  54. chapter forty-eight
  55. epilogue
  56. acknowledgments

Her eyes grew soft, and her lips parted as she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes again. She tilted her head back a bit more. And for a few minutes she was silent, but I didn’t mind because it gave me even more time to study her to my heart’s content, to reacquaint myself with each freckle and feature. Perhaps it was pointless, and even unwise, but drinking her in felt like feeding a different kind of hunger, and one that had gone mostly unacknowledged but was there all the same.

“Before we started on this journey, I’d forgotten what quiet is like,” she finally said, opening her eyes. “I didn’t realize how loud the world had become. My world anyway. And I… I’ll miss the hustle. It will be hard giving that up. But this has reminded me to seek out the quiet sometimes too. It’s reminded me what peace really feels like.”

I stepped over to the tree stump seat next to the one she was on and sat down. “Hey, Emily?”

She turned to me. “Yeah?”

“I owe you an apology too.” I squinted out to the fields and the rolls of hay behind her for a moment and then met her eyes. All day, I’d been thinking as we’d walked, going over everything that happened since we’d crash-landed in the middle of Nowhere, Illinois. “I’m sorry for what I said, about you being a sellout. You worked and climbed and didn’t give up, just like you took control of a speeding horse and buggy. I was wrong and I’m sorry. You didn’t end up where you were because of anything other than your talent and tenacity.”

Her cheeks flushed and she smiled, and it was almost shy. “Not that it matters now. All that… It’s over.”

The sun shifted, hitting my eyes and I squinted at her. “You still have the telethon,” I said. “And the marathon…”

I’d said it to make her smile and it did, but the smile didn’t last. “Do I? That’s beginning to feel like a pipe dream too.”

“That was my point. You’re good at making pipe dreams a reality.”

“It might not be up to me,” she said. “But I would like to find some way to help. Or maybe perform. Even if it’s only for a few people. Or… I don’t know. Military bases once they get set back up. If they do.” She sighed. “Maybe there’ll be an opportunity for me to be useful too.”