Page 24 of Love Me Fearless

“Rhett’s.”

“Rhett who?”

“Morris.”

“Who else?”

“I dunno. Troy, Cam, Wilder.”

“Those are some scary odds.”

Her mouth drops open in outrage. “They’re just friends.”

My heart drops into my stomach. I remember that one, too.

“Zimmie’s supposed to show,” Beth continues, “maybe Marin too.”

That’s a little better, but I’m still not crazy about this. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“So I can track you.”

She stares me down. “You’re unbelievable.”

I arch my eyebrow. “It’s just for emergencies. I’ll let you track me, too.”

Her lips twitch with the hint of a smile. “Fine. But don’t you dare show up at Rhett’s and embarrass me.”

“Embarrassing you is in my job description.” I take the phone and open the settings so I can turn on location tracking, then also make it so she can’t turn it off.

“Whatever,” Beth says, and drops into her seat.

“If anyone needs a ride, call. Okay?”

She looks me in the eyes, and for an instant, the attitude is gone. “I know.”

“Home by midnight.”

“No way! Two.”

“One o’clock sharp or you’ll be shoveling pig shit at first light.”

With a murderous glare, she starts her engine and backs out, flipping me the bird on her way down the driveway.

Though I’m no substitute for the dad who left us, I’m her big brother and I’ve always looked out for her. I shouldn’t worry. She’s a good kid, with more street smarts than most her age. And she’s clearly been doing just fine takingcare of herself.

But that look on her face when she heard the news about Mom needing to get strong before they can fix her heart is telling.

I’m going to have to be strong for both of them.

I wake at five,the sky outside my window a dark canvas scattered with hazy stars.

Beth made it home at almost exactly one, the rapidclick, click, clickof Toby’s nails on the hardwood floor as he loped to greet her stirring me awake. We didn’t talk, but I made sure she locked the front door, then lay awake, worrying about Mom. I’ll have to drill the doctors tomorrow so I understand exactly what they mean by her not being strong enough for the surgery. How much stronger can a woman get? She’s survived cancer, Dad leaving, raising three kids, hard winters, crop failures, starting her own business…it’s difficult to accept that she could ever be perceived as not strong enough to face a challenge.

Though I tried not to, I thought about Ava too. And about the night that changed us.

Forcing myself from the bed, I do a twenty-minute strengthening routine before dressing in my work jeans, thermal shirt and wool sweater, then pad into the kitchen to make coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. The coffeemaker with the broken light fires up like a champ, and soon I’m lifting one of Mom’s thrift store mugs to my lips for the first sip of the day. Outside the window, pale light from the sunrise outlines the barn and distant pastures, filling in the shadows.

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