Tight Knit (24 page)

“Where are you taking me?” I ask for the tenth time. 

I’m holding onto his forearms so I don’t slip. It’s so much nicer now that his cast is off. It’s not supposed to be off. But Lachlan does things his own way.

“It’s a secret,” he whispers in my ear and kisses the back of my neck. I shiver as the air freezes the kiss on my skin.

“It’s too early for secrets, Lachlan.” I fight a bubbling yawn. 

Lachlan laughs and tells me to put out my hands out to open a door. 

I feel the smooth door even under my gloves and I push. 

The door jingles. I’m hit with a blast of warm air and that smell. 

I don’t need eyes to know where I am. 

“Why are we at the wool shop?” I wrinkle my nose and I hear laughter that makes me jump. It’s not Lachlan’s. It sounds like Janna.

“I told you she’d know right away,” croaks another voice. Marybeth. 

I try to turn to look at Lachlan, but he has me firmly pressed against him. 

I feel him sigh.

“Fine, then, Tal. But way to make this totally anti-climactic.” 

Lachlan lifts his hands and it takes a second to adjust to the light. 

The whole knitting group is here. Anna is beside her husband, Marybeth is with them and she’s smiling. Marybeth. Smiling. 

I must be dreaming. 

Janna skips toward me and grabs my hand. She smiles a guilty smile. She knew about this. I wondered why she was being so crazy the last few weeks. Ever since the day of Georgina’s Will reading, Janna has been on me like a psychopath. 

I’m gaping at the wool shop. All the couches moved. In their place are long tables, filled with knitted things. Scarves, tea cozies, doilies, sweaters, mitts, everything. 

But along the back wall are my hats. All of them. 

How?

I focus on Janna. 

“How did you?” 

She giggles. 

“Your mom stole them for us.” 

I turn to Lachlan who just leans against the wall and shrugs. He so knew. 

“Why?” I stutter. “What’s going on?” 

I must look like an idiot, my eyes flickering from person to person. 

“You wanted to stick it to that hag,” Marybeth says. Anna swats her arm and Marybeth glares.

“So we pulled our booths from the show.”

“Why would you do that?” That’s just silly. The money goes to charity. And why did no one tell me?

“Ask, Red here.” Marybeth points to Janna. “She’s the brains of this outfit. We didn’t want to do the show without you, kid. So we’re having our own show.” 

Janna tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and her lips pull up into a small smile. 

I turn my attention to Lachlan again, and he puts his hands up in the air.

“Don’t look at me. It’s all Janna. I was just the muscle.” He winks and my heart flutters. 

I love him. 

I love Janna. 

The only thing that would make this more perfect is Nan. 

Lachlan must see it in my face because he holds his cell phone up. In a little speech bubble it says,

Thanks son, Becca and I will be there soon. We’ll pick up Florence on the way. This will mean a lot to her. We appreciate you doing this.
 

Becca is my mom. This must be a text from my dad. 

Why is my dad texting my boyfriend? My heart jumps. He called Lachlan son. That makes me panic a little.

Pick up Florence. Mean a lot to her. Me? Or Nan. Nan’s coming.

“But?” I start and Lachlan laughs at my confusion.

“How did you…? Isn’t she?”

Lachlan’s smile turns into a grin, “Baby, com’on. I’m charming. No one can resist a bad boy. Including nurses.” 

I roll my eyes. 

He pulls me in and kisses me. It sucks the smart-ass comment I had brewing right out of my mouth. I melt into him. I can’t help it. 

He pulls back and touches his nose to mine. 

“I can’t stay to help with your sale,” he says. “I have to go sign the papers for Gram’s house. I still can’t believe she left it to me.” 

My heart sinks a little remembering Georgina. She was amazing to leave her house and her car to Lachlan. And his aunt and uncle agreed to help him out so he could stay and finish school. They tried to get him to sell it, but he isn’t ready yet. He’ll come around.

“You deserve it,” I say. “Go.” I push him playfully and he grins.

He kisses me again quickly. 

“I love you, Hat Girl.” 

“I love you,
Bad Boy
.” I say sarcastically. 

He steps back and presses his finger to my nose. 

“Now go sell some doilies, you old lady.” 

I roll my eyes again and watch him leave.

Janna steps up beside me and bumps me with her hip. 

“The director of the shelter will be here at five, so let’s get these doors open. Plus I told everyone at school to come early or their hat will be gone.” She giggles.  

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” I whisper and she throws her arm around my shoulder.

“You deserve it.” 

I smile.

~

Everything isn’t okay yet. Nan’s still sick, Janna’s still working through what to do about Deacon, Lachlan’s still hurting, Mom and Dad are still trying to figure out how this new arrival will affect us. But I feel good about it. 

I feel like no matter what happens I can handle it. I’ve never felt like this before. It feels good.

END

Under the Dusty Sky

Allie Brennan

Spring/Summer 2013

It’s been tense around the farm since my brother, Hunter, told us he was leaving. I don’t think Daddy thought he was serious. But here he is, his suitcase packed and Emma waiting outside in his pick-up. The black one that Dad threatened to take away from him after we all realized he was
definitely
going to Lincoln. No matter what. 

Hunter has these eyes that coat me in their silky brown concern. He reaches out, grabbing one of my long braids, and tugs it. Like he used to when I was a kid.

“Gracie, you know I love you.” His smile is strong and masculine. He looks more like a man now. More like Dad. The sun filters through the screen door and little dust specks sparkle in the air as they float around my favorite brother. The brother that’s taken care of me since I was three, since mom left. 

I stick out my lip and lightly kick his foot. Hoping it will work like it used to, but my guilt trips started losing their power when I turned thirteen.

“Then don’t leave me. Not with the twins.” I point a thumb at my other two brothers.  

Hunter takes me by the shoulders and pulls me into his chest. I squeeze his waist. He’s solid. Just as solid as Daddy, but years of hard farm work will do that. 

Everyone pitches in. Daddy’s motto. I even have guns from shovelling horse crap all day. 

Hunter chuckles, his chest bouncing my head with each short burst. I pull away.

“Not funny, Hunt. They’re lazy.” I’m flat-out whining now, running out of tricks to make him stay.

The twins, standing on either side of me in our huge boot room, hit my shoulders at the same time. I glare at Hunter. He’s leaving me with this.

“Hey! Don’t hit your sister you little shits.” He shoves each of them with one hand and they both stumble back into the wall. I smile. Hunter always protects me. I’m the youngest and the only girl. Totally unfair. 

“Don’t go,” I whisper. I know he’s going. 

He looks over his shoulder out the door, and runs his hand over his short brown hair. Same color as mine. 

“Graceland, you know I’m going. This is important to Emma. I love her, and you love me. So let me go, little sis.” 

Tears stab at the corners of my eyes. I promised I wouldn’t cry. Told myself that I’d be mad at her forever. Hunter always said I was the only girl he’d ever love. Until Emma moved to town.

“Fine. Go.” My mouth pulls into a full and totally fake smile. Teeth and all. I know Hunter sees through it, but it works on everyone else. 

I kiss his cheek quickly and run up the stairs to the third story of our old farm house. I hate when the twins see me cry and I don't know if I can stop the tears now.

“I’ll be home next weekend, Gracie. Don’t be like this.” He yells up the stairs.

I slam my bedroom door and sit on the floor right in front of it. The wood is cold on my bare legs, even though it’s shorts weather outside already. 

I don’t let more than three tears fall before I sniff hard and press the heels of my hands to my eyes. 

I need to go for a ride. I jump up and kick off my polka dot shorts, changing into my old ripped jeans with the leather patches everywhere. My riding jeans. I’d never be caught wearing these hideous things off the farm. 

Grazing the papered walls with my fingertips, I run down the long hallway that splits our huge house in two. I run through the kitchen. Past Archer, who cocks an eyebrow at me, and jump over Asher’s leg as he tries to trip me. Grabbing the keys for the quad off the wall by the phone I stick my feet into my mud-caked boots. I slam through the screen door and jump off the porch onto the dusty path. I hop on my favorite 4-wheel. 

“I wouldn’t, Graceland.” I hear Archer yell, or maybe it was Asher. 

“Dad’s gunna be pissed,” says the other. I can only tell them apart when I’m looking at them. And only because I look at their stupid faces every day.

I ignore them and gun the engine, pressing the gas with my thumb. The wind whips around me as the quad lurches forward, and I squint my eyes into the bright noon sun. 

I make it to the end of the driveway in no time and look both ways down the long gravel road that leads to town. 

There’s nothing but flat field and open road. The tires spit gravel as I steer the quad toward the barns. Standing up, I lift one hand from the handle bars and pull the small elastics that hold my two braids in place and let the wind pull my hair loose. The strands sting as they whip around my head and slap against the skin of my neck, cheeks and shoulders. I love the quad. If only I could drive a real car. 

One month and I can get my license. One month and I can have my own freedom. Only one problem. I don’t know how to drive. I don’t have a car anymore.

Okay, two problems.

I shake my head wildly as I speed down the empty dirt road. I scream as loud as I can, because I can. My favorite part about living on the farm is the space. I’m a mile out and still on our land, only halfway to the stables. The sky is pure blue, stretched out to the horizon in every direction. The wind is warm against my skin. I slow down and turn onto the long path that leads to the stable and to my horse, Belle. It’s a totally stupid name but I got her when I was nine and watched Beauty and the Beast like three times a day.

I stop the quad and hop off, cutting the engine but leaving the keys. My cowboy boots, which I only wear riding or working, kick the dry, sun-baked earth up all around me as I make my way to the side of the cracked red barn.

I round the corner expecting Belle but I’m greeted by…

Abs?

Thick, corded, perfectly defined man-abs. I stop and so does my heart. I have to swallow hard to keep it from popping right out of my mouth.

I’m not sure what kind of face belongs to these abs. Whoever’s standing in front of me is wiping his forehead with the bottom of a dirty white shirt.

I clear my throat and the guy jumps, dropping his shirt and staring at me with ice blue eyes under thick dark eyebrows. His wild black hair is tangled around his face and soaked in sweat. His lips are thick, angular, and pressed together to match his frown. He kind of looks like Black Beauty, but with insanely blue eyes.

Why am I comparing this guy to a horse? Because he’s beautiful and sleek and glistening…and grinning.

I realize I’m staring and narrow my eyes. I never gawk. 

“Who are you?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my tattered plaid button up. Suddenly I’m wishing I was in my little blue sun-dress and wedge heels that make me look thinner, and taller.

And older.

Ice Eyes scans me slowly and it makes me jittery. I’m used to this reaction from guys. Just not in this outfit. I tighten my crossed arms and shift my weight from one foot to the other, digging my boot heel into the cracked earth.

“I might ask you the same thing?” His voice is deep and makes my ankles wobble. He’s not my age. No guy in my school looks like this.

But he can’t be
too
 much older.

“Graceland Holloway. This is my father’s farm.” I cringe as my country accent comes out as clear as a ringing bell in an empty church.

I bite my lip and Bentley cocks his head to one side. I try so hard to keep the hick side of me hidden, but sometimes it just can’t be stopped. This lifestyle, the one Daddy loves so much, was one of the reasons mom left us and I try to keep it locked up. Especially around strangers.

I reach out my hand and Ice Eyes takes a step toward me. I probably shouldn’t be shaking strangers' hands without my brothers, or Daddy, around. But this guy is hot and I want a reason to touch him and see if he feels the way I think he does.

“Bentley McKinna.” He shakes my hand. Hard and calloused. He’s a working guy. The best kind.

“Like the car?” I feel stupid for saying it, but Bentley laughs. His teeth are white as fresh milk.

“Never heard that one before.” He’s mocking me.

He is like the car. Hard and smooth and sexy…

Seriously, Graceland.