“Have you had any more luck getting the owner to apply to become a nonprofit organization? I had no idea anyone in Silver Ridge even rescued horses until you told me about those two neglected horses from the auction last night,” Chloe goes on. She’s been a horse lover her whole life and currently owns two horses that she and Sam keep at a barn in Chicago, where they live.
I shake my head. “No, no luck. And I don’t think she’s in the best health.” Crouching down, I set Adam back down and he wobbles his way to Rory, giving her the remaining blades of grass he has clutched in his little fist.
“Dinner should be just about ready,” Dad says, checking on the grill. “The baked potatoes are taking a bit longer than planned.”
I knew Mason was complaining for nothing. They weren’t waiting on me to eat but were waiting because dinner wasn’t ready yet. Only a few minutes later, I’m helping Dad bring plates of food in from the grill and we gather around the table. We all toast to Sam and Chloe, and the conversation shifts back to excited wedding planning. It’s nice having a big family dinner like this. I’m the only one of my siblings who remained in Silver Ridge, so we don’t see each other at the same time very often.
Sam and Chloe are in Chicago, Rory and Dean are about an hour farther south than they are, residing in Eastwood, Indiana, and Mason travels all over as an FBI agent. He currently reports to the headquarters in Detroit and is in-between assignments right now, which is why he’s here. He can never tell us exactly what he does until it’s over for safety reasons.
“I have this friend,” Rory starts, overdoing how casual she’s trying to go about this.
“No,” Mason and I say at the same time.
“Not you.” Rory waves her hand at Mason. “You’re a lost cause.”
Mason tips his head. “I think that’s a compliment? I mean, assuming this is your typical lead in to trying to set us up.”
Rory makes the mistake of looking at Chloe—just for a second—and I know they’ve been scheming together. “I’m not. I was just going to mention this friend who volunteers at a local cat rescue and I think—”
“Diana?” Dean interrupts and the look on his face tells me everything Rory won’t. “She’s fifty-seven.”
Both Mason and Dad let out a snort of laughter.
“Is she? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Rory picks up her water and takes a drink, flicking her eyes to mine. “Anyway, she’s single and I think you’d get along.”
“Babe,” Dean says gently, looking at Rory. “Diana is the only person I’ve ever met who’s more of a crazy cat lady than my own sister.”
“All I’m saying is she likes animals and you like animals,” Rory goes on and I know Mason is dying to crack a joke. “It wouldn’t hurt to meet.”
“I suppose not,” I say carefully. “But I’m good.”
“Okay,” Rory replies, avoiding my eye. She doesn’t believe me.
And neither do I.
Chapter Four
JOSIE
I close the car door a little harder than I intended to and let out a breath. Gripping the steering wheel, I try to calm down.
“Are you mad?” Everly’s voice comes out in a shaky whisper.
“Yes,” I huff. “Not at you. I’m mad at the school for letting this go on as long as it did. They should have called me the second you reported it.” I let my hands slip down the steering wheel and turn the car on, desperately needing the air conditioning to blast my face. I know my cheeks are already red from anger. “Why didn’t you tell me you were being bullied?” I turn and face my daughter, heart aching.
Everly looks at her folded hands in her lap, tears pooling in her eyes. “I…I thought I could handle it,” she squeaks out. “And I didn’t…I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been busy with work and I know you’re tired.”
“Oh, honey.” Tears fill my eyes and I reach out and put my hand on Everly’s. “I’m never too busy for you. You know that. No matter what. It’s me and you, kid.” I sniffle and give her hand a squeeze. “I am always here for you. Good luck getting rid of me.”
Everly’s bottom lip trembles and she breaks as soon as she looks up and makes eye contact with me. I lean over, wrapping her in my arms.
“I hate it here,” she cries, face pressed against me.
“I know, honey.” Tears roll down my cheeks and I rub a hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Mom.” She straightens up, wiping her eyes. Then she notices two girls standing a few cars over. They’re both snickering, and one has her phone out, recording Everly crying. Something inside me snaps, and I go to get out of the car, ready to grab the phone from their bratty little hands and smash it on the pavement.