Page 6 of Hart Breaker

“I’ll swing by and check it out. See you in a bit, man.”

I end the call, pull another U-turn, and head to Brooks Brewery.

I pull into an empty parking, except for the Jeeps parked in the back row. Riley and Lauren both have two-door Wranglers; Lauren’s is a firecracker red, and Riley’s is more maroon. Sydney Sparks has a custom pink, four-door Jeep with her Sugar Rush logo on the side of it. Izzy Ross has an older model Jeep, and it’s red, but you can’t tell since the thing is always covered in mud. And, like Izzy, Maggie Sawyer drives an older model Jeep; it’s navy blue and almost as dirty.

I pull to a stop, park, and reach under my seat for my flashlight to look around for Lily’s Wovey.

CLOSING TIME

Riley

Walking back into the Brewery, Lauren—or Lo, as I call her—barks out, “That was quick.”

I head toward the bar where Lo is holding up the first bottle of Mix Tape. It’s fifty percent of our local barley malts and forty-nine percent Cayuga white grapes. And it’s also our attempt to appease wine lovers, in which I happen to be one of them. “Doesn’t always need to be a marathon.”

Iz tightens her ponytail for the fourth time since I walked in seconds ago. A nervous tick of hers. “As long as she got hers, who cares?”

Passing her, I give her blonde, wavy locks a light tug. “Stop messing with your hair.”

“Hard not to mess with this mop around you three and your perfect hair all done up and makeup always perfect,” she grumbles.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” comes from behind us, and we’re startled, not prepared for Mags entering from the back. She pulls off her hat and tosses it on the bar, her dark brown curls falling from under it. “See? Natural. And I haven’t washed my hair in five days, run a brush through it in six, and I’m allergic to makeup unless it’s an event. So?—”

“That’s not an allergy, Mags; that’s a choice.” I push the bottle to Lo. “Open it up.”

She pushes it back. “Your idea to try this out, you open it.”

Syd snags the corkscrew and then the bottle and murmurs, “I’m thirsty.”

“Rough day at Sugar Rush?” I ask as she unscrews the cork.

“I had a moment of weakness on Sunday when Miss Donna called and asked if I’d consider filling in for the rest of the year when Nettie goes out on maternity leave.”

“Who’d run Sugar Rush?” Iz asks the same question I was about to ask.

“Mom.” She holds out her glass. “Fill it up.”

“Aunt Molly’s going to retire?” Lo asks as I fill Syd’s glass.

“She’s burnt out,” Syd states. “Doesn’t like the direction healthcare is going and is considering opening her own practice.”

“Nurses can do that?” Maggie asks.

“She’s a practitioner. If she finds an MD she jells with, she can.”

With all glasses filled, I raise mine. “To our first glass, Mixed Tape.”

Syd holds hers up. “To finally being able to use my teaching degree.”

Lauren shakes her head. “Same as Ry’s.”

I hip-check my sister. “It’s going to be awesome.”

Iz smiles. “Grandpa John is on board.”

“The co-op?” I ask.

She nods. “He’s giving me ten acres and all the knowledge he can.”

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