Thunder rolled across Zadie’s pillow. Her eyes fluttered open just as the first spots of rain dotted the windowpane. She turned to see Finn’s side of the bed rumpled but empty. She must be at breakfast. Zadie was hungry, too, but she was in no hurry to run into Joel after last night. He kissed me, she thought, hardly believing herself. It was a fine kiss, the kind of kiss that would have most people buzzing the next day, but Zadie’s stomach ached with guilt.

Once again she had gotten caught up in his kindness, mistaken it for something more. He was there for her then and he was here for her now, but that didn’t mean they were getting back together. They couldn’t. She would be a mom soon, and he would still be the guy who bounces from job to job, town to town, crashing in motel rooms without permission. But despite his faults, Joel still deserved better than to be her emotional crutch.

I’ll let him down easy, she thought, knowing full well that there was no such thing.

Zadie waited until she heard Joel clomping down the stairs to the workshop before she left the bedroom. By the time she left the barn, she’d convinced herself that Joel might not even harbor any romantic feelings toward her. He’d imbibed that night (at least two fingers of whiskey and some of Myron’s home-brewed beer). His wits were suspect on a normal day, let alone after a drink or two. Her theory, however, fell apart the moment she walked into the Van Houtens’ kitchen and saw the way Joel looked at her.

“Zadie, heeeyyy,” he said, awkwardly half standing at the dining table to greet her.

“Hey.” Zadie’s response was more succinct but no less uncomfortable.

Mercifully, the clumsy exchange went unnoticed by their host family. Myron looked up from his newspaper. “Morning. Pull up a seat. Finn on her way down?”

“You haven’t seen her?”

“No. Why? She’s not up there?”

“She got up before me.” Zadie turned to the girls, who had been uncharacteristically silent since she’d walked in. “Have any of you seen her?” All three shook their heads.

Joel stood again. “You want me to help you look for her?”

“No, that’s okay,” she said, not wanting to repeat the embarrassing display of the previous morning. “I’m sure it’s nothing. She probably just went for a walk.”

“Bad morning for it,” said Myron, glancing out the window. Outside, it was still only drizzling, but the wind had picked up. A storm was on its way.