“Hey there,” one of them says to me, bending his head and raising his cowboy hat. “How you doing, Savannah?”

I swear I can hear a growl from beside me. “I’m doing fine. Thank you, Trent.” I nod at him.

“See,” Beau says when we walk a couple of steps. “He was coming on to you.” I stop walking and look at him.

“Trent?” I ask, and he just nods. “He’s nineteen.” He’s about to say something when we finally walk into the yard. There are two grills that are going, and people are standing around talking to each other. A couple of people turn to look at us. Some stop talking, and some just ignore us.

“Savannah.” I hear my name being called and look over to see Billy, Casey and Kallie’s father, coming toward us. “Mayor.” He nods at Beau.

“Mr. Barnes,” Beau says. “I’m going to be passing a bill that says if you have picked me up when I was drunk and underage, you can call me by my name.”

I throw my head back and laugh at this and so does Billy. “Good to see you two.” He turns to me. “Would you like some sweet tea?” He hands me one of the glasses from his hand. I don’t want to be rude, so I accept it and take a sip.

“This is good.” The sweetness of the tea hits my tongue right away, but then there is a burning. “What’s in this?” I ask, looking at the glass in my hand.

“Just my special recipe,” he says, and I take another shot. “It’s good.”

He just smiles and walks away. “You go easy on that sweet tea,” Beau says while we walk more into the yard. “I can just imagine what his special ingredient in the tea is.”

I roll my eyes, and I’m about to say something to him when I hear Ethan yell my name. “Mom.” I look over and see him running over. “Hey, Uncle Beau,” he says when he gets close enough.

“How you feeling, baby?” I ask, hugging him and kissing his head.

“I’m not a baby, Mom,” he groans. I want to stick my tongue out at him and tell him tough, but instead, I drink a bit more sweet tea. “Come and see what I made.” He pulls me with him and my hand that was holding Beau’s is now hanging by my side. I stop and look over at him.

“I’ll come find you,” he tells me with a smile. “It’s going to be fine,” he says softly.

I follow Ethan through the backyard, and we come to a table that is under a tent. “Gramma,” he says, and I look over at Charlotte, who is preparing something on the plate. “Can I show Mom the pie I made?”