by Amy Vastine
A retreat that would include Piper Starling whether Boone liked it or not. He didn’t need to know that right now, though.
“I’m not so sure. I’m trying to get my visitation rights back and Sara is being such a...”
Divorce was a killer. Fear of ending up like Boone was one thing that kept Dean cynical about love. Better to choose to be alone than to be left that way.
“We don’t have to decide today. It doesn’t have to be California. Maybe I can find somewhere closer to Nashville. We’ll figure it out. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust that I’m on your side?”
“I’ll trust you when you get me invited back to the CAAs. But they better not seat me anywhere near Blake Keller.”
Dean didn’t want to know what Boone’s gripe was with Blake. That was his agent’s headache, not the label’s. The good news was that Boone had a goal Dean could help him move toward.
“I’ll work on it,” he said before adding, “Having a new album to promote would be a big help.”
Boone responded by hanging up.
Dean took a deep breath and let it go. Boone hadn’t agreed to anything, but he’d given Dean the right leverage. If being at the Country Artist Awards was important to Boone, he’d need new material for them to be interested in having him back after a less-than-stellar performance, an even more embarrassing attempt at presenting an award while intoxicated and a shoving match with an assistant producer a couple years ago. He’d have to cooperate and work with Piper. Maybe Dean could even get them a shot at performing a duet on the show.
A teenage girl waltzed through the back door like she owned the place. “Oh, my gosh! You scared me.” She held a hand against her chest. “Are you a volunteer? I told Faith I would be here. Did she not believe me?”
“I’m not—”
“I missed once. It’s not fair of her to act like I’m going to blow it off every time. She’s just like my mom,” the girl said with a groan.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean said, trying again to minimize the teenage angst. “I’m a family friend. I’m not volunteering for anything.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks pinked up. “Good. I knew Faith was cooler than my mom. Is she in here?”
“I think she’s outside with Sawyer.”
“Dean, could you—?” Faith came in from the front room and stopped short. “Lily, you’re here. I was starting to worry. Freddy will be here any minute.”
The teenager started rambling on about how she had slept over at a friend’s and how they had stayed up all night because the other girl cried about how this girl’s boyfriend was ruining their friendship. Then, when she got home this morning, she and her mom had fought.
Dean’s eyes began to glaze over.
“I thought you had this guy come because you didn’t trust me.” Lily nodded in Dean’s direction.
“I want to trust you, but you’ve been less than reliable lately. And this stuff with Kylie...”
“I won’t let it interfere with my volunteering. You know I love the horses and the kids. I want to be here. I do.”
Faith held out a hand and pulled Lily in for a hug. All was forgiven. “I hope you and Kylie make up. Never let a boy come between you and your best friend.” Faith let her go and her gaze fell on Dean. “No one knows better than me that there’s nothing worse than losing your best friend because of a boy who will probably break your heart anyway.”
* * *
“DID SOMEONE GET a haircut since the last time I saw him?” Faith asked Jason Green as he helped his eight-year-old son out of the car.
“He’s not happy about it. Told his mother he thought it made him look like a nerd.”
“It does,” Freddy said, gripping the handles of his walker. The white plastic braces on his legs had Nike symbols drawn on them with permanent marker. Cerebral palsy may have weakened his muscles but not his fashion sense.
“No way!” Faith helped get him on his feet. “You look very handsome. What do you think, Lily?”
Lily’s opinion would matter more to him than all the adults’ combined. Josie’s daughter was gorgeous and attentive. She had all the little kids completely enamored.
“I like it.” She crouched down so they were the same height and pulled out her phone. “Smile,” she said, taking a picture of the two of them. “I’ll post this to my Instagram and you’ll see how cool you are by how many likes we get.”
Freddy’s face lit up the way it did when he saw his favorite quarter horse, Winston. The girl wasn’t always reliable, but she had great instincts when it came to the kids, always knowing exactly what they needed to hear and relating to them one-on-one. She often reminded Faith of Addison.
They walked Freddy down to the stables and let him greet Winston there to do some grooming and stretching before heading to the covered arena. Someday, Faith hoped they’d be able to build an indoor arena to make it easier to give lessons year-round. Getting the accreditation from NETA, the National Equine Therapy Association, would help ease some of the burden and make it easier for potential clients to come to Helping Hooves because insurance would then defer some of the cost.
“All right, who’s ready to ride?” Faith asked once they were in the arena. Winston was saddled up and ready to go. The four-year-old bay gelding was as gentle as they came. He obeyed commands like a champ and walked more politely than any horse Faith had ever owned.
“Me!” Freddy shouted with his arm raised. Sawyer helped Freddy mount the horse while Lily adjusted Winston’s halter. Today, they were going to work on motor planning as well as posture control. Faith handed Freddy some plastic rings in an array of colors and explained that he would have to put the correct colored ring on various posts spread out around the arena.
Sawyer and Faith walked alongside as Lily held the lead rope and guided Winston though the course. Freddy struggled but was determined to complete the task.
“Next up, red,” Faith said. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Dean had ventured out and was catching up with Jason. She had forgotten they had both graduated from Grass Lake High the same year and would have known one another.
His presence made her uneasy. It was obvious he still held her responsible for what had happened all those years ago. He had good reason. Addison never would have gone to that party, never would have gotten in the car with someone like Aaron Evans, if she hadn’t found out her brother and her best friend had been sneaking around behind her back all summer.
Faith shouldn’t have told her the truth, but the secret had been eating away at her, at their relationship. She should have known Addison wouldn’t take the news well. Dean had warned her. By the time she had admitted to him that she had told, it was too late. Addison had already made the choice to get in the car, a choice that had ended her life.
“Last one, Freddy. You can do it.” Sawyer encouraged the little boy. Freddy would have to move the green ring from his right hand to his left and lift it up above the post so it would fit around it.
“I’m tired,” Freddy said, his head drooping forward.
“You’ve got this.” Faith put a hand on his lower back to remind him to straighten up.
Freddy fought through the fatigue and lifted the ring up and over the post. His dad cheered for him like he had hit a home run in Little League.
“I knew you could do it,” Faith said, patting his leg. Lily led the horse back to where Freddy would dismount.
“Great job today, bud.” Lily held up a hand for a high five. Even though he was exhausted, Freddy didn’t pass up the chance to celebrate with the lovely Lily. She took her phone out of her back pocket. “And look, thirty likes for that haircut while you were working. I bet we hit a hundred by the end of the day.”
Freddy’s smile was wide and proud. That haircut would never be thought of
as nerdy again.
Jason brought over his son’s walker. “Come meet an old friend of mine, bud.” He introduced Freddy to Dean, who stuck out his hand to shake. Freddy gripped the handles of his walker tightly. He wasn’t going to be able to let go if he wanted to remain upright.
“I need Freddy to keep both hands on his walker until we get to the stables,” Faith said so the little boy felt like he shouldn’t—instead of couldn’t—let go.
“How did you get this guy to come back to Grass Lake?” Jason asked her as they returned to the stables.
“I had nothing to do with it. He only has his car to blame.”
Dean explained what had happened the night before, but quickly steered the conversation in another direction. He seemed more comfortable talking about Jason and what he’d been up to than himself.
“How amazing is this woman?” Jason said, putting an arm around Faith’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. “I owe everything to her and this place. When Freddy was four, he was wheelchair-bound. My wife and I weren’t sure we’d ever see him walk, but thankfully Faith suggested we come out and work with her dad and his horses. She’s the reason my son walks today.”
Faith wished the conversation hadn’t turned to singing her praises. Dean had no reason to do so.
“She’s always been pretty incredible,” Dean said with his gaze fixed on her burning face. “That’s why Addison loved her like a sister.”
CHAPTER SIX
THERE WERE NO oven timers to wake Dean up Sunday morning. Instead of the sweet smells of baking cookies, it was dreams of Addison that had him up bright and early. He couldn’t even blame Faith. She had held to her promise and hadn’t uttered his sister’s name once since the muddy car ride.
Sunlight glinted off the aerial photograph of the farm that hung opposite the window. The rain had ended and the promise of some drier days lay ahead. Dean tried to focus on the possibility of retrieving his car instead of the painful memories of his sister. Getting out of Grass Lake was becoming more of a necessity than a simple desire.
He picked up his phone to call the towing company to check the status, but it rang instead. His mother was calling. Word must have gotten out. Thanks to his reunion with Jason Green yesterday, there was no way to stop the news of his return from spreading like wildfire. It had always been a matter of when his mother would find out, not if.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Imagine my surprise when I walked out my front door this morning to get the Sunday paper and Caroline Hughes tells me she hopes to see you at church today since you’re in town.”
“I was going to call you,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t believe him.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the Stratton farm. I ran into Faith and Sawyer at the Sundown after my car broke down.” Leaving out the fact that two days had passed since then seemed like a good idea.
“And you didn’t think to call me and your father? You decided to stay out there instead of coming here?” The hurt in her voice made him feel guiltier than he already did.
Dean rubbed his forehead in an attempt at easing the headache that was sure to stick around all day now. “I’m sorry, Mom. I planned to come see you today.”
“Good. I’ll be at church in an hour. I expect to see you there.”
Before Dean could tell her he really didn’t want to go to church, especially not the church he hadn’t set foot in since Addison’s funeral, she hung up.
Marilee Presley did not mess around when it came to going to church on Sundays. Dean and Addison had been taught early on that no excuse other than illness got them out of their religious obligation. It wasn’t until after Addison died that attending Sunday services started to seem pointless to Dean.
What kind of God let people like his sister die? Not one he wanted to pray to.
Having nothing to wear would have been a decent excuse, except his freshly laundered clothes sat on the coffee table. Faith was some kind of laundry fairy who delivered clean clothes while people slept. There wasn’t a trace of mud on any of them. His socks were whiter than he remembered them ever being. Not even his dry cleaner in Nashville was this good.
Faith came tiptoeing down the stairs and grimaced when she noticed he was up. “Did I wake you? I tried to be quiet while I got ready.”
She had avoided him all day and evening yesterday, even after he’d tried to make amends for his moodiness. Here she was still walking on eggshells around him.
“You didn’t wake me up. My mom called. She heard I was in town.”
“I swear I didn’t say anything to anyone,” she argued unnecessarily. Dean knew she wasn’t to blame.
Faith had always been honest and trustworthy, even as a child. She had been the good one while Addison had been wild. Whenever those two had been up to something, Dean’s mom only had to give Faith a look and the poor girl would spill her guts. It had driven Addison crazy, which was probably why she hadn’t taken the news that Faith had been lying to her that summer very well.
“It’s not like I’ve been hiding. Anyone could have seen me at the Sundown on Friday. I talked to the towing company and Dwight from the auto shop. I caught up with Jason yesterday. She was bound to find out sooner or later.”
Faith seemed to relax a bit and smoothed out some invisible wrinkles on the skirt of her pale yellow sundress. Her dark hair was down, loose curls falling over her shoulders. Her pink lips were glossed and those brown eyes needed no help drawing attention.
“I guess that means there’s no reason to sleep on our uncomfortable couch anymore.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. At least the dreams of Addison last night had been of her alive and well. He could only imagine the nightmares he’d have sleeping under his parents’ roof.
“Would it be a huge inconvenience to stay here on this perfectly comfortable couch, if that’s the way things played out?”
Sawyer came bounding down the steps in a shirt and tie, followed by Scout. The dog always seemed to be right on Sawyer’s heels. “The couch is yours, but it’s time to go shopping so my sister doesn’t have to do your laundry every night and my clothes can stay in my closet where they belong.”
Faith looked like she wanted to say something but bit her bottom lip instead.
“You two headed to church?”
“Well, we don’t dress like this to shoe the horses,” Sawyer said, checking his hair in the mirror above the couch. He had just the right amount of ego to become a star.
“Can I catch a ride with you? My mother may disown me if I don’t show up for Sunday services.”
“We leave in ten minutes,” Sawyer replied. “Faith likes to get there early.”
Always the good girl. Until she had fallen for him. No mistake had been bigger than giving in to his feelings for Faith. It had cost them both more than they were willing to lose.
* * *
“LET’S HOPE HIS mother won’t take no for an answer.” Faith’s arms were folded across her chest as they waited in Sawyer’s pickup for their guest. It had been fifteen minutes since Sawyer had said they needed to leave in ten.
“I don’t get why he won’t go home. What’s he hiding from?” Sawyer asked, honking the horn for the third time.
“Addison.” Faith’s voice broke a little.
“I don’t get that, either.”
“People grieve in different ways.” Faith scooted to the middle of the bench seat as Dean approached. No one in Grass Lake went to church in jeans, but at least his were clean and dry. His blond hair was finger-combed and his beard needed a trim, but the sight of him still made Faith’s heart skip a beat.
“I need to make a quick stop before church,” Sawyer said, backing out of the driveway. Faith was thankful her brother was taking credit for their detour. She di
dn’t want to have to explain where they were going or why.
“The longer the better,” Dean mumbled. His arm felt warm against hers even though she was trying her best not to make contact. Such a different story from twelve years ago when she couldn’t get close enough.
That last summer they’d spent together Dean had insisted Addison finally learn how to drive, and Faith had always tagged along. While Addison had been focused on the road, Dean would brush his fingers against Faith’s thigh or throw his arm over the back of the seat and play with her hair. It had been a dream come true to have his attention and affection, even though they’d had to be sneaky about it.
Faith didn’t dare mention those days or Addison’s horrendous driving skills. Dean had buried his memories along with his sister, and it was clear that was where he wanted them to stay.
Sawyer pulled into the spot in front of Harriet’s Flower Shop and Faith waited for him to climb out so she didn’t have to ask Dean to move. Nothing downtown was open on Sundays this early except the Cup and Spoon Diner. Some people needed their morning coffee before their day could really begin.
Iris Hackney and her son stepped out of the diner and spotted Faith. Mrs. Hackney had been Faith’s fifth-grade teacher. Her red hair was now gray, but she still wore pink glasses on the end of her pointy nose.
“Good morning, Miss Stratton!” She waved a gloved hand and pulled her son in Faith’s direction. Dressed in her Sunday’s best, Mrs. Hackney looked more like the wife of a politician than a former grade-school teacher. Her navy blue dress was paired with white gloves and a belt that cinched her thin waist.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hackney. Charles,” Faith said, nodding in his direction.
“I was just telling Charles we should give you a call. Wasn’t I, dear?”
Charles smiled sheepishly. With a round face like his father’s and red hair like his mother’s, many people forgot he wasn’t the Hackneys’ biological son. Mr. and Mrs. Hackney had adopted Charles as a baby when they were in their forties. He was the same age as Faith even though his parents were much older than hers.