“We see Dottie and Bill all the time now that we live next door. Dottie has been teaching me how to cook.”
Bree shook her head. There were days she hardly recognized her baby sister.
Lyric looked at Bree again, as though she expected her to say something.
“What?”
“I don’t know, you seem restless.”
“I do?”
“You’re in a rut.”
She was? Maybe Lyric was right.
“I have two months before I start teaching, if I get the position at the academy that is. I should know this week. It might be a good time for me to travel.”
“There you go,” Lyric smiled. “Where?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone fishing.”
“Fishing?”
“You don’t know this, but Bree is a master fly-fisherwoman,” Blythe told Lyric.
“A what?”
“Fly-fishing. I love it.”
“And she’s good at it,” Blythe added.
“Why?” Lyric asked, not seeming to understand at all.
“It’s very relaxing, but challenging at the same time. I like the solitude of it.”
Now that she thought about it, it would be exactly what she needed. Time alone to get her head back on straight.
She needed to grieve her husband and stop thinking about Jace Rice. He’d become a crutch. If she thought about him, she didn’t have to think about the pain of losing Zack. If she was honest with herself—and she was trying to be—she had to recognize it for what it was.
She had to force herself to work through the stages of grief she was trying hard to avoid. She knew the time had come for her to face it.
Ten days later, Bree left for Stanley, Idaho. She would be spending the next four weeks at Idaho Rocky Mountain Ranch. She’d fish, and ride…and mourn. When she came back, she’d spend every day teaching cadets, ones just like her husband had been.
What had she gotten herself into?
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Also by Heather Slade