Page 15 of A River of Crows

Sloan wished she had. Not only had she seen it, but she’d also bought it and still had it. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away. How many hours had she spent looking at it? Obsessing over it. Studying Felicity. Studying them all.

“She's a kindergarten teacher,” Noah said.

“Kinder? Well, she's definitely crazy then,” Sloan said. An attempt to lighten the mood.

“They aren't bad people, Sloan.” Noah’s voice softened. “No matter how much you want them to be.”

Sloan squirmed in her chair. She wanted to argue but had no argument.

Noah glanced at his watch. “Hey, I'm really sorry. But I've got a meeting at ten.”

“Right.” Sloan shot up from her chair. “Sorry.”

Noah walked around the desk. “Don't apologize,” he said. “And don't be a stranger, either.” She caught another whiff of his cologne as he stepped closer. “It's great to see you, Lo.”

Burning pinecones, rising smoke, a sky full of blue-white stars, a single sleeping bag. The memories rushed back.

Before Sloan could say anything, Noah wrapped his arms around her. She wanted to resist, to keep her arms stiff at her side, but she sank into his body.

Sloan was familiar with that rush of desire from a new relationship. The overwhelming attraction that lights every single nerve ending on fire. The way you can physically crave another human being. She was just as familiar with the comfort that can only come from a long-term relationship. The complete freedom of knowing you can be yourself and someone will love you at your worst. The shared memories and history that emotionally bond you to another human being.

Now, Sloan realized that only with Noah Dawson was she capable of feeling both simultaneously.

She squeezed tighter, and so did he. She'd tried to avoid coming home, but here she was, back in Mallowater. She'd tried to avoid Crow's Nest Creek, but it was her first stop after pulling into town. And she'd tried to avoid Noah Dawson, only to be back in his arms. He and everything else in this godforsaken town were magnets. They'd been pulling her back since the moment she left.

But Sloan wouldn't stay in his arms. She wouldn't do what had been done to her. With all the strength she had, she let go.

“I need to go.” She avoided his eyes.

“Sloan . . .”

“See you around,” she added, grabbing her purse and charging out the door.

Chapter 6

Mallowater, TX, 1988

Sloan didn’t touch her breakfast, even though Daddy had cooked it. His breakfasts always tasted better than her mom’s. It even smelled different. Daddy cooked the bacon in the skillet instead of the microwave, and grease hung in the air for hours afterward.

But even with the greasy bacon on her plate, Sloan didn’t have an appetite. This was all so unfair. Why did Ridge get to go fishing, leaving her stuck here with Mom?

Sloan looked at her brother. He didn’t look any happier about this arrangement than she did.

“Why the long face, Lo?” Daddy asked, shoveling shredded potatoes into his mouth as he read the morning paper.

“It’s not fair.” Sloan pushed her plate away. “Why can’t I come?”

“Sloan!” Her mother slammed the fridge door. “Drop it.”

“It’s alright.” Daddy winked at Sloan. “I’m off all week. We’ll do something special, too. Ridge and I need some man-to-man time.”

“All packed.” The cooler lid slammed down, and Sloan’s mom jumped like she hadn’t been the one to drop it. “You’ve got plenty of water, snacks, and sandwiches for lunch.”

Sloan glanced back and forth between her parents. “You’re staying till lunch?”

“We’re staying till the sun goes down,” Daddy said. “Takes time for the fish to bite.”

“But it’s November! Isn’t it cold?”

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