Sage Creek (26 page)

Why couldn’t her mom have called when she was in her room alone doing homework or mucking out stalls or someplace where there weren’t a bunch of people around?

“I’m not real good with money, and to tell you the truth, I lost a lot of what I had,” her mom said real fast, sounding defensive and a little bit desperate. “I had a lucky feeling and so I sat down in this private backroom poker game run by a guy I know. But it didn’t work out and I lost three hundred and forty bucks. Because that’s just the way my luck is rolling these days, baby girl.” Lynelle sighed.

“So now I gotta earn it back and I’m stuck in this dump of a town a little longer. But I’ll call you again right after I get to Aunt Brenda’s house. Just make sure you don’t say one word to your dad, okay? And, baby, I can’t wait. I bet you’re such a big girl now and I know you’re beautiful!”

What if she’s disappointed when she sees me?
The thought stabbed Ivy like a thorn as she stuffed her phone in her backpack. For a moment she had to bite her lip to keep from crying.

Which would be a total disaster.

Everyone around would think she was a baby. Worse, a loser.

But all this time she’d waited to see her mom again and now she had to wait longer.
But she’s coming,
Ivy reminded herself. That’s the important part.

Ivy’s stomach gave a sudden lurch as she rushed down the hall. Her mom hadn’t liked her all that much anyway—or she wouldn’t have left, right? What if she expected her to be this gorgeous, perfect kid? Her mom had been gorgeous. She’d been Queen of the Rodeo when she was fourteen. She’d had five marriage proposals, and that didn’t count the one from Dad. She was almost famous, at least on the rodeo circuit.

And me . . . I’m not anything like her,
Ivy thought, suddenly panicking. She took deep breaths to try to calm herself down, feeling almost as upset as she had at the hospital when Aunt Liss thought the baby was coming early.

She wished she could be more like Sophie. Sophie always managed to seem calm and not afraid. Her dad was the same way. Solid, in control. Lately, never knowing when her mom was going to call, if she was really going to come back, and if her dad would find out she was keeping secrets from him, made Ivy feel scared and worried and guilty all the time, but there was nothing she could do about that.

She didn’t want to get her mom mad at her. Or hurt her dad’s feelings. Or make him think seeing her mom was more important than him.

She hurried outside, relieved at least to see there were still a ton of kids around. But no Shannon and Val, she realized after a moment, weaving her way through the kids still milling around on school grounds, searching through all their faces, still not seeing her two best friends.

A big group of kids were way up the street, laughing and shoving each other, maybe going to the bakery too.

WHERE R U? Ivy texted Shannon, then slung her backpack over her shoulders and started to run toward Main Street.

“Hey, wait up, you dropped this.”

She skidded to a stop and spun around in response to the voice behind her. Nate Miles was holding up a copy of Lois Lowry’s
The Giver.
In chagrin, Ivy realized it must have fallen out of her backpack when she slung it over her shoulders. She had to read the first three chapters tonight.

“Thanks. I’d be dead if I lost this.” She took the book from Nate, hoping she wasn’t blushing. He was just so cute, with his shaggy brown hair and golden brown eyes and that way he had of smiling kind of crookedly. She had one class with him. Science.

Today they’d sat in different rows, but she’d noticed when he came into class a minute after the bell that she wasn’t taller than him this year after all. Nate had shot up too over the summer. He was at least an inch taller than Ivy, so she didn’t feel like the jolly green giant standing next to him right now. She relaxed a little.

“Who do you have for English?” she asked. Since she was holding her English homework, it was the first—and only—thing that popped into her head.

“Johnson.” He shrugged. “She’s making us write some lame essay tonight about—”

“Hey, Miles,” someone yelled. “You coming or not?”

Nate’s best friend was Jack Parrish. He and another, chunkier boy who looked like a seventh grader were staring at them.

“Tryouts in ten! Come on!” the other boy shouted, and then he and Jack took off at a jog back toward the gymnasium.

“Gotta go. Football tryouts.” Nate shrugged again. “See ya around.”

He was gone just like that, racing after the other two boys. But not before he gave her another one of those lopsided smiles.

Ivy stared after him, holding the book he’d touched in her hands, not ready yet to stuff it in her backpack.

Maybe today hadn’t been such a
totally
horrible day after all.

Chapter Twenty-one

“I can’t believe it.” Sophie felt both drained and exhilarated as she sank down in a booth at the Double Cross opposite Rafe and Ivy. “We sold out of nearly everything.”

“That’s great.” Ivy leaned back in the booth. “Now you just have to do it all again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.”

Rafe’s brows lifted. “Let her enjoy the moment, will you, Ives? Sophie’s probably exhausted.”

“I am. But I’m also very happy.” She had to look away from Rafe, because he looked so good, and she wanted to kiss him in celebration, but she couldn’t. For one thing, Ivy was here. And for another, someone else might see.

No one actually knew about them, not just Ivy. Sophie kept telling herself that anyone who saw them together here would assume they were just friends.

But, of course, kissing him in public would definitely take care of
that
. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to take that step. Or any step.

To be honest, she didn’t know where they went from here. She’d never been very good at just letting things happen. Sophie liked to plan, to think, to shape her future. But this—whatever it was she had with Rafe—was new and different from anything else. She didn’t want to spoil it or sabotage it by analyzing too much or making it more—or less—than it was.

Ever since Saturday night, she’d been telling herself to take it day by day. Because for the first time in a very long time, things were going more right than wrong in her life. And she was almost afraid to trust that.

They ordered chicken wings, burgers, fries, and coleslaw. The Double Cross wasn’t crowded this early—there were only a few families seated in the booths and some tourists and wranglers sitting at the bar. But the jukebox was already blasting. Clint Black’s voice shook the rafters.

As soon as the waitress brought Rafe’s beer, Sophie’s glass of wine, and Ivy’s Coke in a frosted glass, Rafe had them all clink and toast to Ivy’s first day of middle school and the opening of A Bun in the Oven.

Then his cell phone rang and it was the horse breeder in North Dakota he’d been trying to reach for nearly a week. Apologizing, he excused himself to take the call in the relative quiet outside.

“So day one—good, bad, or indifferent?” Sophie asked as Ivy sipped her Coke through a straw.

“Could’ve been worse. I only have two classes with Shannon, which sucks. Thanks for the cookies though,” Ivy said suddenly, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “Shannon and Val said they were the best.”

Despite that smile and her easy stream of words, Sophie again sensed something shuttered about Ivy tonight. As if she was holding something back. Or holding it in.

It’s probably just adolescence,
she told herself.
That’s all.
But a part of her wondered if something else was bothering the girl. A bit uneasily, she hoped it wasn’t that she was joining Ivy and Rafe for dinner.

She’d barely had a chance to speak to Ivy when she’d run breathlessly into the bakery this afternoon. The girl had sent her a quick wave and a smile—looking sort of stressed, Sophie remembered—then immediately joined Shannon and Val at their table.

But Sophie had sent Karla over with a plate of freshfrom-the-oven chocolate chip cookies for all of them on the house, and had received a broad, happier smile from Ivy as the girls all squealed and grabbed for the cookies.

By four o’clock, the three of them had left to walk to the library together to do their homework.

Maybe she just has a ton of homework. Or friend issues,
Sophie thought.
Par for the course in middle school.

But she couldn’t resist saying casually as she set down her wineglass, “So overall it went pretty well? First days of anything can be tricky. And middle school’s a big deal.”

“Yeah. I’m cool with it though. Sorta.” Then Ivy paused. She glanced over her shoulder—making sure Rafe wasn’t on his way back? Then turned to peer at Sophie, those lovely indigo eyes serious and intent.

“School wasn’t awful. It wasn’t great either, but . . . the thing is, I think I can handle it. It’s just . . .” She studied Sophie a minute, weighing something in her eleven-year-old brain, then she took a breath.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Sophie braced herself, suddenly wondering wildly if this was a question about sex or drugs or something else big. Something Ivy needed to discuss with Rafe. What if she wanted to know how babies were made? But surely Rafe . . . or Lissie . . . would have told her all about that by now....

“I can’t ask my dad about this.” Ivy spoke quickly now. “And Aunt Lissie has enough on her mind with the baby coming so soon and all. So I . . . I’d just like your opinion,” she said carefully. She took a breath, then peered anxiously at Sophie.

“Is it wrong to keep a secret?”

Sophie absorbed the words with a tiny shock. They weren’t what she’d been expecting. Not at all.

“Well, that depends.” She hoped her concern didn’t show on her face. “If someone’s in trouble, you need to tell. If it could save a life, or keep someone from getting sick or hurt or putting themselves in danger, you need to tell a grown-up and get help. And that includes if you need to protect yourself—Ivy, do you? Are you in trouble, do
you
need help?”

Her heart was beating fast now as she searched the girl’s pretty, serious face, wishing she knew what this was about, but Ivy’s lids lowered so Sophie couldn’t see her eyes.

“Ivy? You can tell me,” she said quietly, even as a knot of worry locked around her heart.

Ivy looked up then. Shook her head. “It’s not that kind of a secret. It’s not dangerous. It’s just . . . someone’s feelings might get hurt.”

Relief rushed over Sophie.
Feelings. Very middle school. Very normal.
Still, she searched the girl’s face. It sounded as if this was a friendship kind of secret. Something along the lines of liking someone else’s boyfriend or knowing that somebody had talked behind someone’s back or whatever other kind of drama went on in middle school these days. Not life or death or drugs or anything ugly or dangerous.

Still . . .

“Who’s feelings? A friend’s?”

Ivy shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Maybe you can tell your dad. Or Aunt Liss. I must have told Lissie a hundred secrets when we were in middle school and she kept all of them. She’s a great person to talk to. Sometimes it really helps to talk things out.”

“I know, but it’s not about me . . . I mean, not exactly.”

Sophie thought she saw a flash of misery for an instant, then it was gone.

The next thing she knew, Ivy had a smile on her face.
Did it look a little forced?
Sophie couldn’t be sure.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Sophie. Honest. Everything’s fine.”

She slurped more Coke through the straw, then her gaze shifted toward the double doors.

“Dad’s coming. I just remembered—I need to ask him—”

She turned to her father as he slid into the booth beside her. “There’s a field trip next week. You have to remind me to give you the permission slip when we get home.”

“Here’s a better idea. Hand it over now, Ives, then we won’t have to worry about it later.” Rafe’s gaze rested on Sophie as his daughter began rummaging inside her backpack. His smile was warm enough to almost make her forget about middle school secrets and field trips and the fact that she needed to be rolling out of bed again in eleven hours.

“Sorry that took so long.”

His words were casual, but his eyes held an intimacy that for that one moment made her feel as if they were the only two people in the restaurant, maybe in all of Lonesome Way.

I missed you,
his eyes said.
I want to kiss you. And do about a dozen other things to you as soon as we can be alone together again.