Credence

“Morning,” she says through a yawn.

I shoot up out of my chair, gaping at her as she brushes past the table to the coffee machine.

“Morning?” I burst out. “Where did you come from?”

She just strolls in, like she never left. Is this a dream?

“When did you get in?” my dad asks before she can answer me.

She pushes her sunglasses back on her head, yawning again. Kaleb stares down at her as she stands next to him, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Last night,” she replies.

“How did you get here from the airport?”

“Uber,” she tells him.

“You came back,” I say, still stunned as my heart pounds.

She’s really here? Like she was in her room this whole fucking time I was pouting down here?

She turns her head over her shoulder, looking at both of us like we’re idiots.

She definitely won’t handle a hug right now.

“Can someone look at the shift on the tractor?” she asks, changing the subject. “It’s sticking. And the vacuum? It’s way, way too loud.” She pours a little cream in her coffee and stirs. “Just because y’all build motorcycles does not mean everything on this property needs to be rewired to sound like a muscle car.”

She picks up her cup and starts to walk out of the room.

“I’ll handle Bernadette, feed the horses and dogs, and pick all the tomatoes before I get started on breakfast,” she tells us. “Would someone mind bringing a load of wood up to my room sometime today? It’s getting too cold at night.”

She leaves the room, heading back upstairs, and I stare at my dad, my mouth hanging open a little.

“I’m not feeding you until the stalls are done and Shawnee’s had her work-out!” she yells as she climbs the stairs. “Let’s go!”

My dad’s eyes go wide and he pops out of his chair, stuffing the last piece of bacon in his mouth as I laugh, downing a huge gulp of orange juice before rushing out of the kitchen.

Yes, ma’am.

I finish putting a blanket over the mare and run my hand down her head, between the eyes before closing the gate and scurrying out of the barn.

I shiver. Shit, it got chilly. The sun dipped behind the peak an hour ago, and while it’s not quite dark, I’m missing its warmth. Grabbing my sweatshirt draped over the logs, I pull it over my head, fixing my hat again.

“Tiernan!” I shout, watching her step out of the greenhouse and yank the hose back over to the side. “Let’s get drunk!”

She flashes me a small smile, and I inhale, smelling the steaks on the grill.

She jogs up the steps of the house, her rain boots covered in dried mud from the last time she wore them, and I run after her, both of us heading around the deck to the back of the house.

I grab two beers out of the tub, swiping off the ice and untwisting the tops. I hand one to her as we stop next to my dad.

“It’s chilly.” She bounces up and down.

I pull off my sweatshirt and hand it to her. She’s already wearing my old blue and white flannel, but she doesn’t argue. Taking the navy-colored pullover, she slips it on and takes the extra beer I offer.

“Never too cold to grill,” my dad points out.

She smiles. “It smells good. I’m starving.”