Unspoken (The Lynburn Legacy 1)

“I often see Holly on hers,” Kami said solemnly. “When she stops for traffic, sometimes she puts on some manly lip gloss. I’m not getting on a bike.”

Jared shrugged. “Okay. So I’ll walk you home.” He shut his locker door, turned, and made his way down the hall.

Kami felt duty bound to point out, “You can’t keep following me around.”

Jared frowned. “You don’t—do you mind?”

“I mean, you can’t,” Kami explained. “You know how Angela moved to town when I was eleven? And you know how girls at that age are joined at the hip and want to do absolutely everything their new best friend in all the world does? Do you remember how long that stage lasted for me and Angela?”

Jared hesitated. “Well—”

“Two and a half hours,” Kami told him. “Then Angela collapsed and started to cry. It was the only time I’ve ever seen Angela cry.”

“Are you implying I won’t be able to keep up with you?”

Kami pushed open the school door, glanced up, and found him smiling. “I’m not implying so much as just outright saying.”

“I think I can manage,” Jared told her.

“You’re welcome to try,” Kami said serenely. “I’m planning to take a shortcut through the woods on our way home.” She sailed down the school steps. He was

keeping up with her so far, but then, they had barely started.

“A shortcut through the woods that mysteriously brings us to the scene of a crime?”

“The woods aren’t signposted,” Kami said. “It’s easy to get a little lost, wander about. Who knows what you might stumble upon!”

“Kami,” said Jared. “I can read your mind.”

“Well, that won’t hold up in court,” Kami informed him. “It sounds crazy.”

Kami had not planned her investigative foray into the woods ahead of time, or she would’ve worn dark jeans and boots. But even with the disadvantage of a belted button-down red skirt and kitten heels, she was able to keep ahead of the city boy. When Kami jumped over a stile, he looked at it as if he’d never seen one before.

“I have never seen one before,” Jared said, keeping close to the fence and eyeing the sheep on the other side with suspicion.

A lamb nudged its pink snub nose in Kami’s direction, and she patted its white woolly head. She always meant to stop eating lamb because they were so adorable. But she always succumbed when it landed on the table, because it was so delicious.

One of the lambs fixed its attention on Jared. “Baa,” it flirted.

“Boo,” said Jared.

“Oh my God, Jared. Don’t tough-talk the lambs.”

“It was giving me a funny look,” Jared claimed, boosting himself over the next stile. “I thought the countryside would have more open fields and fewer fences and barbed wire.”

“So you thought all the animals wandered onto other people’s land, getting run over by reckless drivers such as yourself?” Kami asked. “We like fences. And we have rolling fields. We have fields that rock and roll.” She waved at the expanse of green, the landscape changing hands from tree to field until finally it all melded with the sky to become blue mist in the distance. She was surprised to find herself feeling defensive.

“Kami,” said Jared. “I like it.”

“You don’t have to like it.”

“I do anyway,” said Jared.

They went over the wooden bridge over the Sorrier River, stands of bright red wolfberries waving at them from the bank.

“The Sorrier River?” Jared asked when he saw the sign by the bridge.

“It’s haunted,” Kami said, with some pride.