She studies the front of my shirt, not meeting my gaze. “What?”
Her nose is pink, and it twists my stomach. I don’t want to make her cry. “You’re still going to the peach ball with me?”
Her lips press together, and I give her a little shake. “You still my date? You said you would.”
“I do my best to keep my word.” Her voice is low, and I lean forward to kiss her neck again, right at the base of her jaw.
“I’ll pick you up at your place, seven o’clock.”
We bust our asses the last day of harvest, working solid from before sunrise until that hot orange ball is dipping below the horizon. One thing is on our minds—making this the last day we’re out here.
Leon’s birthday is tomorrow. Tonight is the first day of the festival, and I’ve got to check Noel’s store, a.k.a., the old feed shed, for rats.
As soon as the last batch of peaches is sorted, I haul the fifty-pound crate to the waiting truck and slap the side signaling we’re done. The teens all cheer, and they’re headed to the donut shop for a celebration.
I notice my brother looking after them with his hands in his pockets, and I walk over to where he’s standing.
“You did good.” Holding out my hand, he gives it a shake. “I think it’s time we talked about adding you to the management team.”
His eyes light. “Is there a team?”
“No.” I chuckle, and his brow falls. “It’s just Noel and me, and I guess Taron and now you.”
“I’ve got some ideas for rotating the trees to spread out the planting.” He’s talking fast, and I can feel he’s only twenty-one. “I took a few classes on organic farming. We could section off a part of the field and cater strictly to that market…”
“Tell you what.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get the festival done, give it a week or two, then we can all sit down and talk about it.”
He catches his breath and grins. “Thanks, bro.”
“Now I’ve got to go check on Noel’s store. If Taron asks, tell him he’s welcome to step in any time.”
I take off on foot up the hill. The small structure originally was just off the road directly in the sun, and with the festival happening in the middle of the Louisiana summer, Noel worried about all her products (and customers) melting. So we planted banana trees and other fast-growing, tropical plants to create shade and break the heat, and installed window units last year.
As I climb the hill, I’m seeing it for the first time since spring. The vegetation has grown up around it, and it looks like something out of a tropical forest. It’s off the road, and several ferns have sprouted along the front of the small porch. The ground is dark, shadowy, and I feel a panic in my stomach. It would be a perfect place to plant a trip-wire.
“Why would anyone do that?” I dismiss the ridiculous thought.
Still, my insides are tight. My entire body is on guard. The clumps of banana trees we planted have grown tall as the roof, and their wide, glossy-green leaves stretch down, casting unusual shadows over the tin roof.
It’s dark and quiet. The windows are black holes, and anything could be hiding inside. We cut the electricity over the winter and locked the doors, but anyone could easily break in. We wouldn’t know, which is why my sister asked me to do this.
Actually, Noel is worried about mice. “I’ll lose my shit if I see a mouse,” she said.
I laughed and said I’d check it out for her.
Now, the closer I get, the tighter my stomach twists. “We’re used to chasing rats,” Taron said.
Only, I’m not prepared. I didn’t bring my gun. I didn’t bring anything. I’m approaching a building unarmed, alone, and anything could be inside waiting to attack me.
A breeze kicks up, and shadows move over the face of the sun. Long tendrils of ivy sweep over the exterior of the shack, and it reminds me too much of that place, that hovel deep in the jungle where it all went down.
My heart thuds in my chest, and I slow my pace.
My vision tunnels. Where is Taron? I look all around quickly, dropping back into the trees. He’s supposed to be with me.
Wait, I remember… He went ahead to test the door. He’s entering first, and I’m covering him from the rear… We’ve practiced this so many times. Patton is in my ear: Just follow the routine; do what we’ve practiced.
We follow protocol, but we’re not prepared for the ambush. “He’s here!” Taron calls, and I race forward to help him.