Page 32 of In the Dust

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“What are you doing up so early?” Dad just got home, it’s seven in the morning, and I’m sliding a second pie into the oven.

I wrap him in a hug. “Hey, Dad! Just making some pies.”

He inhales deeply. “Apple.” A grin takes over his features. “On a Sunday?” He knows what that means.

I dust the flour on my apron. “Are you coming?”

“Sorry, kiddo, I’m exhausted,” he sighs, pulling off his cap and hanging it on the rack.

I look at his tired face, frowning. “Go get some rest,” I tell him. He’s been on a forty-eight, but at least he’ll have a few days off. I worry about him whenever he’s gone, but he’s been a firefighter my entire life. Worry comes with the job.

“Save me a slice.” He waves as he retreats to his room.

I grin. “Saved you and Grandpa a whole pie.”

“That’s my girl.”

* * *

What to wear,what to wear?

I thumb through my closet, finding a mixture of the old and new me. A section of clothes I wore in New York and a section of me in high school, but nothing feels right. I need to get Harper to go shopping with me.

The silk of New York is too soft against my skin now, reminding me of everything that’s waiting for me when I return. The clothes from high school are the old me; they may fit my body, but they don’t fit me.

I reach out to touch Colton’s favorite, the only dress in my closet that I like. The strawberry one. On any other occasion, this one would be perfect, but something is telling me to save it.

What to do?

I sneak into my dad’s room; he’s passed out snoring to the heavens. Mom’s closet. I step inside, carefully closing the door behind me. Nothing has changed, and even her scent still lingers. I take in a deep breath, with sweet floral notes of jasmine filling my nose.

She adored colors, every single spot of the wheel. Whether it be deep and dark or bright and neon, she utilized every hue God gave her in her clothing or her work.

In the swarm of color, there’s a blank canvas that calls out to me. I linger on a particular dress, short and white. As I slip it on, I turn to the full-length mirror and run my hands on the ultra-soft cotton material. I grab a thin braided belt and cinch my waist. Yup, this is perfect.

Even though she’s gone, she’s got my back.

It may seem silly to some, to get so engrossed in what to wear to a simple small-town farmers’ market, but it’s an event in Willow Creek, and I want to look my absolute best.

Especially after what happened with Brad, my confidence has been a little down. I can look at our short relationship from the outside and see that we would have never worked, that I was never in love, but the sting of betrayal cuts into my insecurities.

It opens old wounds that never healed.

Especially with what happened … before.

A deep honk sounds outside, and a blush rises to my cheeks as I take the wand through the last straight strand. Colton’s here.

I bounce down the steps, being careful to set the pies into my old basket. As I walk out, Colton’s leaning against his Bronco. His dark hair dances above his brow line as the sun sweeps across his face, brightening those crystalized blue eyes.

They remind me of frost, the way they seem to harden even on a day like today. It’s already hot, and a sheen of sweat makes its way to my forehead. Thank God for this dress and how breezy it is.

“If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” He drinks me in, taking the basket from my hands and setting it in the passenger seat. I know what that means; he’s reserving my spot beside him.

I smirk, looking him up and down. A crisp white t-shirt hugs his bulging muscles, a stark contrast to his warm olive skin. Dark wranglers hug him, and I bite my lip at the sight of his … bulge. “Ready?” I whisper.

He takes my arm, leading me to his side of the truck, and I slide into the middle, parting my legs so he can reach the shifter.

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