Page 73 of In the Dust

Grandpa cuts me off, waving his hand, “You’re going. I’ll lock you out of this house if you don’t.”

I try to smile, but it’s tense and forced. I don’t know if I can pretend all night, I already feel like I’m spiraling, but as I carry the jewelry box to my room and set it on my nightstand, I know everything will be okay eventually.

I take a peek inside, at a beautiful ensemble of rings, necklaces, and charms. A key is tucked in the corner, which must lock the box.

This is what we do in the south; we cowboy up and make it through. I’ve never been good at doing that, obviously.

Colton pulls up in his Bronco with Jackson in the passenger seat, and for a fleeting moment, all my worries melt away as he stalks up the front porch steps and traps my hand in his. He runs his free hand up my neck, sliding his fingers into my hair at its nape and pulling me in for a tender kiss.

He knows I need a night out with friends. I just don’t know if I’ll be good company.

* * *

The bar is crowded,with sad faces. All these people lost their crops, fields, animals. I know our situation is a good one, since no one was hurt. But I can’t help the feeling of anger that rises in me, angry at flames. How pointless.

To be angry at flames.

To be boiling with rage at the cancer that took my mom.

To be mad at the time lost with the love of my life over grief.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Colton sends me a grin.

I feign a smile. “Thank you.”

Harper’s arm is through mine as she leads us to the bar top, oblivious to how I’m feeling. I haven't told anyone what Dad told me.

I think Colton could probably piece it together, though, considering I came home to help with the harvest. But now the harvest is gone, and we’re out of money, and—“Beer?” Harper suggests.

I shake my head. “Tequila,” I correct her.

Her lips twirl upwards, revealing pearly white teeth. “Oh, we’re going for that kind of night.”

I nod as the bartender sets two brimming shots in front of us. I lift my glass, sending her a wink before downing it and asking for another one.

It’s as if the alcohol has numbed every sad cowboy and cowgirl in this place. The atmosphere is different now; instead of everyone worrying about the devastation our town faced, we’re enjoying the night and pretending like outside of these walls, there’s no scorched earth.

Maybe it’s okay to pretend for just one night, because I feel like everything is closing in around me

The jukebox is spitting out music, and I’m wrapped in Colton’s arms, twirling around the dance floor in boots.

Jackson and Harper are in an intense game of pool.

Colton looks me over, and I know he wants to say something serious. Something that will draw me back to sadness even though he would never intentionally hurt me, so instead I kiss his lips to shut him up.

We meet back up at the bar with Harper and Jackson, downing back another round of shots. Colton finally orders his second beer. He’s not doing hard liquor tonight, of course. He’ll have his usual two beers and end the night with a greasy cheeseburger before we go home.

He’s so good.

I look at him, seeing a lingering sheen of want swirling in his eyes as I down another bitter shot. “Let’s dance.” I pull his arm to bring him back to the dance floor.

It’s midnight now, and the place is so crowded I can barely move, especially when Colton pulls me to his chest.

“I don’t want you drinking to forget, Dix.” He eyes me warily.

“I have nothing left to drink for,” I mutter.

He throws his head back, leaning in closer so I can hear him over the loud sounds. “Dixie, we will get through this.” I can see it in his eyes; he’s scared I’m going to run again.

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