Page 62 of Buried Roots

I’m taken aback by Kayla’s harshness, although I understand her reaction if she was worried about her sister. It also might be the last straw—Trinity can be listening challenged. I can’t stop myself from saying, “It’s my fault. I got her into this by asking how she’d trained Sir Fig A Lot.”

Kayla sighs. “It’s not your fault. Trinity needs to mind.”

Her words say one thing, but something about her intensity tells me there’s more going on. Guilty and uncomfortable, I say, “I’ll make sure to text you if Trinity comes over here.”

Trinity seems to know better than to speak, and her head hangs low as she starts walking back. “Bye, Willow. Bye, Sir Fig A Lot.”

After Trinity’s gone, Kayla gives me a sharp nod before she says, “Can we talk?”

I wring my hands together, and I don’t like the look on her face. Kayla doesn’t seem the type to go overboard expressing happiness, but at the same time, right now, her eyes are dark and stormy. It’s beyond gruffness. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“It’s about Owen,” she says.

“Okay.” My stomach tightens.

“I know my brother is a grown man and can make decisions for himself, but I’m his sister. I can’t stop myself from watching out for him—it’s my job. And I see the way he looks at you, Willow. What he feels for you is legit.”

Inside, I know what she’s saying is true, but to hear it out of Owen’s sister’s mouth, especially someone like Kayla, so reserved, hits hard. “I care about him, too. Deeply.”

“I know you do, but you don’t understand. Owen’s been through hell and back, and when Pa died…” Kayla trails off, shaking her head. “It wasn’t a good situation. And now Owen’s finally come home. He’s happy. I can’t sit by and watch him get his heart ripped out again.”

“I hope you don’t think I want to hurt him.”

She looks at me, somehow gentle but stern, and I realize her mannerisms are so much like Frankie’s. “I like you, Willow, you know I do—and I don’t think you’d ever hurt him intentionally, but I also know how these things go. I know what you’re doing here has an expiration date. I just don’t see how this ends well.”

I bite my lip. “I’ve said the same thing.”

“You may have said it, but your actions don’t. If you really care for him, stop leading him on.”

I hesitate, swallowing hard. She’s right—I keep telling Owen no, but in every nonverbal way, I’ve said yes. Finally, I mutter, “You’re right.”

“I mean it, Willow. This applies to Trinity, too. She’s fragile after Bo’s death, and she gets attached. I understand that life’s gonna happen. But I can see this one coming from a mile away, and she’s gonna get crushed.” Kayla puts a hand on my shoulder. “Now, if your situation changes, and you decide to stay, things would be different. You understand?”

“I got you, Kayla. I’ll keep my distance.” My heart is splintering in my chest, but it’s the right thing.

This is the end of Owen and me, and Trinity and me—for good.

So much for Sunday dinner tonight.

22

Shattered Lines

Crispchardonnayinhand,I’m sitting in a folding chair and enjoying the new back patio that was finished just today, as the crews work Sundays because of our tight deadline. Right now, the mango and golden sky peeks through scattered rain clouds.

I’ve got a lot on my mind, as usual. Owen and Dakota. Trinity. How much I’m going to miss them, and the town of Violet Moon, when I go. I’m trying to push it all from my thoughts when I see it.

It’s just a puddle on the ground, but it hasn’t been raining today. I stand and approach it, finding another puddle, then another.

When I glance in the backyard, I gasp.

There’s water spraying up from the ground. “Oh, no!” I rush over to it to find a big hole in the earth around exposed water piping. Did the crew puncture a line while they were digging today?

But I had the water and gas companies come out and mark all the lines yesterday.

Didn’t I?

I know I did! I checked for the flags this morning. Except, when I look around now, there are no markings for anything. It can’t be. It was early and still dark out when I checked, but Isawthem. Didn’t I?

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