Page 15 of Harper

More than Christmas.

More than our birthdays.

More than almost anything.

We offer zero tours, housekeeping, meals, or transfers on the Fourth, leaving the entire day open for parades, contests, BBQs, and other fun. It’s always been that way in my family, for as long as I can remember.

So it’s a no-brainer that I’m sitting in the stands with Parker and Reeve on July Fourth, waiting to cheer on my brothers in the annual axe-throwing competition at Smuggler’s Cove. Sawyer and Hunter are already signed up, and I wave at McKenna and Tanner when I see them arrive. While Tanner pays his entrance fee to Ms. Clearwater, McKenna heads over to the bleachers to join me and my sisters.

“McKenna!” cries Reeve. “Sit next to me!”

Reeve is my youngest sibling; she was born when I was already thirteen. Since our mother died when she was only one, Reeve was—more or less—raised by all of us. Yes, our dad was her primary parent, but there was also Gran and Paw-Paw, Hunter, Tanner, Parker, Sawyer and me. I feel a larger responsibility for her than most sisters would feel for a sibling, and I don’t want her to get hurt by attaching herself too strongly to McKenna, who’ll be leaving us at the end of August.

“Reeve, give her a little space.”

“Shut up, Harper. Shove over,” she says, pulling McKenna into the open space between us. Reeve enthusiastically explainsthe rules of the competition to Tanner’s new girlfriend, ignoring my warning.

Fine, I think. I’ll just help you get over her loss instead. I’m good at getting over things. Or, at least, appearing to.

As though on cue, I lift my gaze to find Joe Raven standing at the foot of the bleachers, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, the other raised in a wave hello. Without thinking, and distracted by Reeve and McKenna, I wave back.

I fucking wave back.

And Joe? After registering total shock at my unexpected civility, he takes that little wave as an invitation to sit next to me.

He climbs up onto the bleachers, looming over me while I try to ignore him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Hey, Harp.”

Shit.

“Hi,” I say without looking up.

“This seat taken?”

Yes.

Except, it’s definitely and clearly not.

“Um…”

“Yes or no, Harp?”

My grandparents and father are sitting in the row above us, my sisters are next to me, and my brothers are competing. It’s obvious that the seat is free. I’d look like an idiot or a shrew to claim otherwise.

“Nope.”

“Mind if I sit here?”

“It’s a free country,” I mutter, shifting over and crossing my legs toward my sisters.

Joe sits down, careful not to touch me.

Fact: I haven’t been this close, physically, to Joe Raven in years. And if I hadn’t been distracted by Reeve, it would have continued that way. Damn it.

“Hi, Joe!” says Reeve, leaning over me.

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