Starlee's Heart (The Wayward Sons 1)

“Making you fearful is the worst thing she did, but Starlee, understand she just wanted to protect you.” She inhales. “Your mom didn’t always make the best decisions or have the best people in her life. She got hurt and didn’t want the same for you.”

“People like my dad?” He was never mentioned. Not here. Not back home. He’d never been involved in our lives.

“I didn’t know him, but yes, I think he hurt your mom and she’s had a hard time getting over it.” Leelee fights a yawn but her tiredness wins. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I think I need to hit the sack.”

“I’ll take the box to the kitchen.” I stand and walk over to my grandmother and give her a hug. “Thanks for talking to me about all of this. It helps understanding a little better.”

“Night, sweet girl,” she says, patting me on the back.

When the door closes I turn and face the closet. The clothing inside is rumpled and I move to straighten it. A shirt falls to the floor and I pick it up. I dig though the hangers for the matching pants.

I may never understand my mother’s motives behind sending me to Lee Vines but talking to my grandmother, holding her clothing in my hands…I find myself a little closer to her than I expect.

20

The morning is spent setting up. The Wayward Sun has a tent filled with iced coffee and pies. Barbecue roasts in a massive black smoker. The bookstore and outdoors supplier have their own booths filled with popular items and information. The crowds start rolling in around noon, just as the first band plugs into the amplifiers and the festival officially kicks off.

Leelee and I wear matching red, white, and blue tie-dye shirts with the lodge’s logo on the front until dusk falls.

“Coming back for the big concert?” Sierra asks as I walk by. Her booth was beyond popular. They’d sold out of pies hours ago. It didn’t hurt that she put all the boys to work—selling pies, offering samples, smiling at every passing female. And trust me, every female in a sixty-mile radius seemed to come for one thing. Well, two. A glimpse at the Wayward Sons and a taste of their pie.

I’d almost bought every pie myself just to keep the girls at bay.

The boys were in the process of breaking down the tent.

“Yep.”

“I sent them in to shower and clean up. That way if they ask you to dance, you won’t want to run away.”

“Dance?” I ask with a squeak. No one told me about dancing.

“Don’t stress,” she says, seeing the look on my face. “Everyone loosens up. Trust me, you’ll be swaying to the beat by the end of the night.”

I’m not sure about that, but I keep my opinions to myself. I also consider what it would be like to dance with the boys, one by one. Letting all the girls know they’re mine.

Or sort of mine.

I’d already decided to change, and I leave Sierra to get ready before the evening events start. The headliner goes on at seven. Fireworks at nine. I’ve never been so tired and happy in my life.

I’d laid the outfit on my bed before I left that morning. It fit perfectly and I have to admit looked good. The red halter and patterned cotton pants came from my mother’s old wardrobe. It’s more skin than I’ve ever shown in my life, but once I put it on and feel the fringe of the halter skimming my bare belly, I’m consumed with sense of power. Once upon a time, my mother felt the courage to wear this. Today is my day.

I clasp the anklet I found in the tiny jewelry box left on the desk. It’s silver with little bells. It matches the hoop earrings I’d brought from home. I fix my hair in one long braid that hangs down my back.

The phone rings as I walk through the kitchen. I know it’s her. Who else would call in the middle of a party? I almost keep walking but I stop. She’s the one that sent me here, like Leelee said. She knew what I was getting into.

“Hello?”

“Starlee! I thought I’d try to catch you. How’s the festival going?”

“It’s a lot of fun.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re having a nice time.”

I catch my reflection in the window. “So, funny thing. I’m wearing one of your outfits from your closet.”

“Oh really?” She sounds surprised. “I didn’t even know I had anything useable still there. I figured Mother would have tossed it out years ago.”

“No,” I say. “She kept it, I guess thinking maybe one day you’d want it back.”