“How did you know?”
The older lady laughed. “Darlin’, I know every kid on this bus and have for years, most their parents too. So it’s nice to see a new face.”
“Oh. Which stop am I supposed to get off at?”
“Third to last stop.” Then the driver’s eyes were on the mirror, watching someone behind her. “Jimmy Dale, don’t you be messing with Liesl on the ride home, you hear me? Or I’ll make you sit up front.”
“Yes, Mrs. Craftsman.”
Sierra walked down the aisle. Little kids sat up front. A guy wearing a gray hoodie had claimed the last seat on the right. His athletic shoes hung off the end of the seat and he radiated a “back off” vibe. She chose a spot four seats up on the left.
Two girls from her history and math classes nodded at her they passed by, sliding into the seat opposite the hoodie wearer. A junior high couple sat two seats ahead and immediately started making out. Four guys she recognized from the lunchroom pushed and shoved each other, tossing out, “Hey, baby, we love you,” all the way to the back of the bus.
At least the spot next to her had stayed empty.
When the bus pulled out, she slipped in her earbuds and cranked her iPod, the universal leave-me-alone sign, focusing her attention out the window.
Maybe that wasn’t an obvious signal in Wyoming; she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She ignored it.
Less than thirty seconds later, a more insistent tap was followed by a loud, “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you.”
Sierra met the blue eyes of the dark-haired boy, about twelve, draped over the edge of the seat in front of her. He motioned for her to take out her earbuds. “What? Am I in your seat or something?”
“Nope. Man, you’re hot. Like really hot.”
Awesome that the elementary set thought she was dateable. But if this kid tried to cop a feel like Marin had warned, she’d deck him.
“Bet you can’t guess who I am?”
Her mind supplied a pain in the butt, but she said, “I have no idea.”
“Guess.”
She shook her head.
“Come on,” he cajoled. “Just one time.”
“Look, kid, I—”
“One guess,” he repeated stubbornly.
“Leave her alone, Ky,” came from the back of the bus.
Who had warned this kid off? She slowly turned.
The hoodie guy had removed his hood and was staring straight at her.
Oh hello, gorgeous. The guy was hot…beyond words actually, with long brown hair that nearly brushed his wide shoulders and dark scruff on his cheeks. He certainly didn’t look like he belonged in high school.
“Shut it, Boone. I wasn’t talkin’ to you,” the kid in front of her retorted.
Boone? Now that was a western name.
The kid tapped her shoulder again and she forced herself to quit gawking at the beautiful Boone. “What?”
“Now do you know who I am?”
“Not a clue, little dude.”
He scowled. “I’m not that little.”
“Quit bein’ a pain in the ass, cuz. She don’t wanna play your game.”
Next thing she knew, hot Boone from the back of the bus plopped in the seat across from her and smiled.
Oh. My. God. He had a killer smile. Pure bad boy. With dimples.
“Hey. I’m Boone West. Who’re you?”
Sierra blinked.
“See? She don’t wanna talk to you neither,” the kid in front of her sneered.
That’s when she realized she hadn’t answered. “I’m Sierra.”
“Sierra…?”
“Daniels.”
“But she’s really a McKay,” the kid crowed.
“What?” echoed from about twenty people on the bus.
Great. Were they looking at her with scorn? Or envy?
“It’s what I was tryin’ to tell you. You’re my cousin.” He grinned. “I’m Kyler McKay. You can call me Ky. There are lots of our cousins on this bus.”
Wait. Boone had called Ky cuz. So did that mean… God no. Please don’t let me be related to him. She glanced at Boone.
He was looking at her curiously. “You’re a McKay? I thought you said your last name was Daniels?”
“It is. It’s a weird story. My dad found out a few years ago that Charlie and Vi McKay are his birth parents.”
“Ah. The long lost McKay son. I’ve heard about him.”
“You have?”
“Yep. Sundance is a small town, becomes even smaller with the West and McKay family connections.” His stunning topaz eyes roamed over her face. “But no one told me about you.”
Sierra blushed crimson.
“Well, I knew you were gonna be on the bus. My mama told me to keep an eye out for you so you didn’t get off at the wrong stop,” Kyler said.
“Mine did too.” Another boy the same age as Ky scooted next to him and leaned over the seat.
“And who are you?” Sierra asked.
“Anton McKay.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Our cousin Hayden is up there with the little cousins.”
“How many McKays are there?”
Kyler tapped his fingers. “On the bus? Me, Anton, Hayden, Eliza, Liesl, Peyton, Shannie, Gib, Braxton, Miles. So ten.”
“Holy shit.”
Boone laughed. “There are at least that many McKay kids that don’t go to school yet.”
Sierra blurted, “So am I related to you?”
He shook his head. “I’m related to two branches of the McKay family tree because these guys’ grandmas were Wests. But you and me? Not even distant kin.”
Thank God.
When Boone flashed her that mega-watt smile she about died. Had she really said that out loud?
“So what year are you?” he asked.
“Sophomore. You?”
“Senior. I didn’t see you around today.”
“That’s probably because you were in the principal’s office,” Ky said with a snicker.
“Don’t make me pound on you, boy. You remember the last time you mouthed off to me.”
Ky scowled at him. “Didn’t hurt that bad.”
Sierra bit back a smile.
Anton rallied to Ky’s defense. “What’re you doin’ up here anyway, Boone? Finding third graders to beat up?”
“Or smart-mouthed sixth graders. I’m makin’ conversation. Now turn around or I’ll tell Mrs. Craftsman you were looking down Daphne’s shirt.”