She chuckled. Her skin was tanned like mine from being outdoors all spring, and my dirty blond hair almost matched her lighter strands as she came toward me, holding out a bunch of letters. “I’ve been meaning to give you these.”
I raised an eyebrow, taking the stack. I didn’t need to ask who they were from. The Scottish stamps gave it away.
I counted four.
Sighing, I shoved shaggy hair from my eyes, wondering how I could stop Hope from this futile outreach of friendship. The fact that I wasn’t on social media should be clue enough that I didn’t want to stay in touch with anyone.
Mom cleared her throat. “Write to her, Jacob. She’s probably lonely over there on her own. The least you can do is be a proverbial shoulder to cry on.”
I looked up. “I don’t owe her anything.”
“No, but ever since she saw you, she’s been rather enamoured. Be kind. She’s young and fanciful and will grow out of her little crush, eventually.”
“Crush?” I froze. “It’s not a crush. It’s, um. I don’t know what it is but—”
“Believe me, Wild One. I know when a girl is in awe of a boy, and Hope is in awe of you. I’m not asking you to lead her on. In fact, I’m telling you she’s too young and at no point are you to contemplate anything more than friendship, but it wouldn’t hurt to write her back. At least until she meets her first boyfriend and then you’ll be replaced.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s just so…young.”
“We’re all young once.” Mom smiled sadly. “But it doesn’t last long, and age really doesn’t matter when the heart knows what it wants.”
“Even more reason for me to ignore her.”
Mom shook her head. “Read them. Respond. Just be nice.”
With a wave, she left me in the setting sun as I smeared a streak of mud on the pristine white envelope and moved to sit on the fallen tree by the kitchen.
Once again, I cursed that damn locket. If I could rewind time and just send the lace, I would.
I’d caused this mess.
I’d given her the illusion that I was open to more than a casual acquaintance, and I honestly didn’t know how to stop her.
The rip of paper sounded loud in the orange twilight as I tore into the envelope and lifted out the first letter.
Dear Jacob,
Still haven’t heard from you, but that’s okay. I’ve been busy, busy with my lessons. Keeko says I’m gonna kick ass in my first lot of exams this year, so that’s good.
Scotland is still fun despite the mist and drizzle that seems to cover the entire country for weeks on end. I’m used to riding in the rain now. And I own more jackets and scarfs than I ever have, but that’s just life in the highlands, I guess.
Um, what else is new?
Not much really.
I guess I just wanted to hear from you.
Are you busy with farming?
Do you still feel your dad there?
Do you think my mom is here with me in Scotland?
I know you’re super busy but write back when you can!
Love, Hope.
Placing the letter beneath a rock so it wouldn’t flutter away in the gentle breeze, I opened the next one. Determined to read them as fast as I could so I could get them over with.
Dear Jacob,
I have news!
I’ve officially been given a part in Dad’s TV show. I’m playing the daughter of the countess Dad has fallen madly in love with, but she’s married (the count beats her, so Dad will rescue her, probably kill him, and they’ll live happily ever after). Don’t repeat that, though, as I don’t want to leak info about the show.
The best thing is I don’t have to wear the hooped dresses and crazy gowns that all the other girls have to. My character is a tomboy who wears boy’s stuff. Cool, huh?
It’s only a few episodes, and I don’t have many lines, but I’m enjoying it. To be honest, though, I don’t think I want to be in front of the camera like Dad is. I think, once I’ve finished school, I’m gonna become a scriptwriter and create the dialogue that the actors say, cause some of it is cringe-worthy!
If you were online, I could send a few pics from set. I could even send a video of me jumping a new horse called Polka!
Anyway, how’s Cherry River?
Did Cassie have lots of kids for her horse camp?
Did you teach anyone?
Are you riding much or too busy?
Would love to hear from you.
Love, Hope.
My patience waned as I reached for the third one. At least she’d distracted me from staying busy and filling in the holes of solitude. Her prattling letters were almost as if she sat beside me.
Dear Jacob,
I had to type this on my laptop and print it off because I broke my writing arm. I have to have a cast on for six weeks. Boo. I fell off Polka and slammed right into a jump. Dad is furious. He’s banned me from riding forever. I know he’s just scared of me hurting myself again, but he can’t take away the only thing that makes sense.