Page 96 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“Ginnie.”

“Youare,” she says firmly. “He sorta said it but didn’t say it. You’re too scared to say it. Somebody needs tosayit already.”

I drop my head into my palms, knowing she’s right.

“And a hayloft, Ash?”

“You’ve never…”

“Never,” she says. “That shit scratches you all up to hell. Firm pass.”

“Jackson put his jacket under me,” I tell her, lips twisting into a smile.

“Oh Lord. You’re damn smitten, aren’t you?”

“So smitten,” I agree. “I want to tell him.”

“Just do it. It don’t gotta be complicated, baby boy.”

I reach across the counter, snagging my closest friend into a hug. She squeezes me back like she’s cracking a walnut.

“You’re really staying, aren’t you?” she practically whispers, her voice so quiet I would have missed the words had we been any further apart.

“I’m staying, Ginnie.”

“Fuck, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

“Is that why you’re suffocating me?” I ask, blowing her hair out of my face.

She leans back and swats me in the shoulder. Then hugs me again. Then finally lets go. “I get to be your best man.”

Virginia laughs as I spin away from the bar, on a mission.

When I get back to the ranch, it’s late afternoon. The rain has been coming down all day, making the ground soggy and giving the air a misty quality that has me longing for tomato soup again. I’m surprised, when I step inside the ranch house, to find a bustle of activity.

“Grab one of the sat phones,” Marigold is saying. “Just in case. You know service is spotty up there.”

Colton nods, a backpack on the ground in front of him that he’s shoving a medical kit into. A few of the ranchers hustle past, water bottles in hand and a frantic energy about them.

“What’s going on?” I ask, coming to a halt inside the foyer.

Marigold brushes her hair out of her face. “A kid wandered off from her trail ride group and is missing. We’re sending everybody out to sweep the area.”

“Shit,” I mutter, my gut sinking to the floor. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so, dear. We’ll find her. We’ve got everybody on it, and there’s only so far she could have gone.”

I nod, but my stomach continues to churn. “Could I…make sandwiches or something? For people to bring in case it takes a while?”

Mrs. Darling offers me a small smile. “Couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay,” I mutter, heading toward the kitchen. I whip up a dozen lunch meat sandwiches as my hands shake. Marigold finds me just as I’m finishing up.

“Thanks, Ashley. Let me help you wrap those.”

We slip the sandwiches into baggies, and Marigold takes them out to the lingering members of the search crew who are congregating on the back deck, Colton amongst them. The food gets split between packs as I look out toward the barn. Horses are being saddled, everyone on the ranch seemingly helping.

“Where’s Jackson?” I ask.

---