Page 62 of In the Dust

G gives me a funny look from Harper’s words, and as we step towards the barn, she glances over at me. “So, you’re not coming back?” She doesn’t sound surprised, but she frowns.

I rub my hands, a little nervous to tell her. “I was gonna wait to tell you, but yes, I think I’m going to stay.” I shrug, opening the barn door and flipping on the light.

“Horses!” she sings, running over to Pixie.

“That one’s mine.” I grin.

“So, what are you going to do about school?”

I was hoping to avoid this question. “I think I’m going to drop out, with the farm and everything.”

She looks at me. “Are you happy here?”

“Yes.” I smile, happy tears starting to well in my eyes. “New York always felt off to me. I didn’t feel home there,” I admit.

“I’m happy for you.” She grins. “It feels like home to me, and I couldn't imagine living somewhere that didn't.” She wraps me in a hug. “I’m sure it has something to do with Mr. Cowboy out there.”

I haven't told her much about my past, but I did bring up Colton. “He’s the one … you know. My first.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh!”

“Yeah.” My cheeks flush.

She pets Pixie’s head, then her eyes brighten when she looks at the next stable. “And a baby!”

“Yup!” I smile proudly. “That’s my baby’s baby.”

She pats Pixie again. “Good job, Mama.”

We walk around the stables and talk about my life here from before. Gina promises she’ll visit, and I believe her. It will be so nice for the one good part of the city to come by from time to time.

We step out, back into the darkness, and a little gleam of light catches her eyes. “What’s that?” Her finger juts out towards the hill, where my mom’s studio is. Her little solar lamp is still up and running as it sits in the window.

“That’s …” I look away, biting my lip. “My mom’s studio.”

“Oh.” She places her hand on her heart. “I didn’t know your mom painted.”

“So do I,” I whisper.

She shakes her head. “What?”

Without thought, I start walking towards the hill. “I know it’s weird I didn't tell you, but when I ran away to New York—”

She stops me, placing her hand on my arm. “Ran away? I thought you went for school.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I wasn't completely truthful about everything. You know my mom passed.” I frown, and she gives me a solemn nod. “Well, I couldn't handle being here anymore. I left, and I left everything behind.” I look back to where the fire spits embers up.

Gina rubs my shoulder comfortingly. “That had to be so hard for you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn't honest.”

She grabs my hand, and we continue walking. “Everyone has their secrets, Dixie. I’m just glad you’re facing them.”

We step inside the little studio, and I just know Gina is itching to explore. “Go ahead,” I encourage her with a grin.

Her fingers strum along the weathered wood shelving, but what really catches her eye is what’s on the easel. My mom’s last painting, unfinished but eerily beautiful.

“This is you.” Gina smiles as she carefully picks up the canvas. “A younger you.”

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