Teach Me (The Wolf Hotel Book 3)

Jed frowns as a truck turns into our driveway. “I thought he was gone,” he mutters, more to himself, as he lifts a bushel of tomatoes onto the trailer we’ll be taking to the market. He’s barely spoken to me all morning, only wiping his scowl off when Mama pokes her head out the door to see if we need a drink.

I ignore him now, my heart beats wildly in my chest as I watch the silver truck approach. I did get a text from Henry this morning, just to say that he’d arrived late and that he’d be tied up for most of the next two days.

So I know it’s not him, but still I can’t help but wish it was.

A car soon turns in to follow the truck up the driveway and now my frown matches Jed’s.

We watch as a middle-aged man in jeans and a button-down steps out of the shiny silver Dodge Ram. It looks like it was just driven off the lot. “Is there an Abbi Mitchell here?”

I raise my hand.

He smiles and ambles over, pulling out the clipboard that’s tucked under his arm. “Would you mind just signing here, here, and here.”

“Uh… and what am I signing for?”

“Your new vehicle.”

“My new….” The green Toyota pulls up behind the truck but the driver remains where he is, busy talking on his phone. “What?”

“Yeah. Paid for in cash this morning. I’ll tell ya, I need a fairy godmother like that. Even if he was a bit demanding.” He chuckles, tapping on the paperwork.

I scribble my name down without really thinking. Henry bought me a new truck?

“Keys are in the console. Do you need me to walk you through it?”

“No, I’ll figure it out.”

“Well, then. Enjoy. She’s a beaut. Limited edition, fully loaded.” With that he climbs into the passenger seat of the car. The Toyota turns and is gone in seconds.

The gravel crunches behind me. “Are you kidding me, Abigail? He treated you like a whore and you’re going to accept that? That’s, like, a sixty-thousand-dollar truck!”

My mouth drops open and I turn to face him dead-on for the first time this morning.

He does a lightning quick glance at my chest, and I instinctively cross my arms, knowing what he’s probably picturing. I can’t help but be embarrassed by what he saw. I wish I could be as cavalier about it as Henry is. “Henry has never treated me like that.”

Jed purses his lips tight. “He doesn’t even have enough respect for you to rent a hotel room. I would never do that to you, out behind the barn where anyone could walk in.”

“We used to make out in that barn all the time.” Hiding in the loft, amongst the hay.

“Well… that’s different. And I found buttons, too. Scattered all over the ground. What did he do, tear apart the dress my mother made for you like some kind of animal?”

I bite my tongue. Yes, actually, he did. And I liked it. “Stop sulking, Jed. You have no right. You broke up with me, remember?”

He purses his lips. “If you’re going to carry on with him like that, I’m going back to Chicago.” He says it like a threat, a smug expression on his face as if he’s holding something over me.

“Go ahead. I never asked you to stay.”

“No, but your mother did.”

I roll my eyes, but I believe him. That’s exactly something she’d do.

“You’re not stupid, Abigail. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s buying you. He’ll throw money at you, here and there. Then, every few weeks, when it’s convenient for him, he’ll come through to use you, and then he’ll leave.”

“Convenient for him?” I start to laugh. “You think coming here is convenient for him?”

“Until he’s gotten what he wants, yeah. And when it’s too much, when you’re no longer this sweet little farm girl… you’ll never see him again. He’s not even faithful to you, I promise you that.”

First Mama, now Jed. They just keep attacking my weak points. I won’t let them. “Your promises don’t hold a lot of water, Jed.”

He throws his hands in the air. “Oh, come on! I made a mistake, but I’m here now. When did you become so cruel?”

I burst out in laughter. “When will you learn to take ownership for your fuckups?”

He winces. “Really classy. I can see he brings out the best in you.”

“No, Jed. You just bring out the worst in me.” We’re going to stand here, throwing words back and forth, saying the same things over and over. I’m done. “Do whatever you want to do, stay here or go back to Chicago. I don’t care.” I spin on my heels and march over to my new truck, taking deep breaths to try to calm myself down. No one has the ability to make my blood boil like Jed.

The dealer wasn’t kidding, I note, sitting behind the wheel. It has all the bells and whistles—leather seats, push start, alarm system, navigation screen, power roof window.

And it’s a stick.

Shaking my head, I pull my phone out.

Are you crazy?

Henry responds almost immediately, like he was waiting for my text.

Me? No. Crazy people drive around with duct tape on their bumpers.

I roll my eyes.

You can’t just buy me a new truck.

I can do whatever I want.

My old truck works fine.

It’s a hazard on the road. What if you hurt an innocent bystander when that bumper finally falls off?

Then you could have bought me a new bumper.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re left stranded on an old dirt road in the middle of the night.

I don’t go out in the middle of the night.

I don’t have time to argue with you, Abigail. Take the damn truck.

I roll my eyes. I can hear the serious tone in his message, and the fact that he’s used my full name means he is serious.

This is too extravagant.

Then you won’t like what you see in your bank account.

I glare at my screen. Last night he said there was an accounting error and Belinda would be depositing the difference.

Can’t talk now. Heading into a lunch meeting. Enjoy the truck, buy your father a new roof for his barn, and hire help so fuckface can go back to Chicago.

It’s followed by a winky face.

“What have you done, Henry?” I mutter, opening my bank account app on my phone to see how much has been deposited.

My mouth drops open at the digits.

“Abigail!” Mama comes stomping down the stairs, glaring at me. “Whose truck are you sitting in?” She’s already figured it out. That’s why she’s so mad.

I need to message Henry back. No, I need to call him and tell him that he can’t be depositing money into my account, that he needs to take it back. Accounting error, my ass. This is ten times what I made for the entire summer!

But first, I have to deal with Mama.

“Abigail, don’t you ignore me!”

“It’s hers, apparently,” Jed answers for me.

I shoot him a glare.

“What do you mean, it’s hers? This is a brand-new truck! We don’t have money for a new truck. Did that man buy it for you?”

I let my head fall back against the nice, contoured headrest. This is going to be a nightmare.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. You are not accepting these kinds of gifts from him.”

I just said as much to Henry, but now that Mama is telling me what I can and can’t do, I’m suddenly much less interested in returning it. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Take it back.”

“I can’t. It’s already been driven off the lot.” I don’t know a ton about cars but I know the value drops significantly as soon as a brand-new car has been driven off the dealership lot.

“And you can drive it right back. Jed will follow you to the dealer and bring you home.”

My hands curl around the steering wheel. This is his gift to me, not her.

“Jed, go and grab the keys to Abigail’s truck. They should be on the ring by the door.”

He starts heading inside.

“You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t own this truck. I do.”

Her hands settle on her hips. “And I can only imagine the kinds of things he will expect from you in exchange.” I feel Jed’s knowing gaze on me but I ignore it, watching Mama’s nostrils flare instead, my own anger ready to boil over. “I want that thing off my property right this instant, you hear me?”

“No problem!” I hit the engine button and it comes to life with a quiet but powerful rumble that only a brand-new truck can manage. Throwing it into first gear, I pop the clutch and take off down the driveway with a roar, checking my rearview mirror once to see through a cloud of dust, Mama and Jed standing side by side, shocked looks on both their faces.

~ ~ ~

Lucy Hornback punches the buttons on the old-school cash register. Her father, Lloyd, who owns the feed mill, doesn’t believe in computerizing the store. He only brought in debit and credit machines five years ago, and he makes you spend at least twenty-five dollars before he allows you to use it.

“Can you just add it to our tab? I’ll come settle it tomorrow. Silly me, I forgot my wallet at home.” In my mad rush to get away from Mama.

“Of course.” She furrows her thick, dark brows as she scribbles down the amount in her book. I can’t help but imagine how Katie would react to those caterpillars. “So, I heard you got a new truck?”

Two hours. That’s how long it’s been since I left Mama and Jed in a cloud of dust. People are already talking about it. I’ve done a few laps around town, just getting used to it and trying to cool my temper. Plenty of people saw me, so it’s quite possible that someone casually mentioned it to Lucy while stopping in to pick up feed. Or maybe it was someone from the dealership, talking too loudly in the coffee shop about the truck that was bought and paid for in cash and driven out to the Mitchell farm.

“Just got it today.”

“Jed called, wanting to know if you’d been by yet. He told me,” she says, confirming her source without me needing to ask. She rounds the corner to peer out the window. “Wow! That’s, like, brand new.”

“Yup.”

“You didn’t make that much money in Alaska, did you?” There’s a curious glint in her eye. “Did your boss buy you that?”

I guess Jed didn’t tell her that part. I can’t see him wanting people talking about how rich my new boyfriend is. He wants them talking about how he’s staying back from college to help us, and how it’s only a matter of time before the two of us get back together.

I’ve known Lucy since grade school. Maybe that’s why she thinks it’s appropriate to outright ask me. Whatever I tell her will make its way around town, that’s for sure. Do I want everyone talking about this? I’m sure most people will assume that’s how I got it anyway, but will they judge me for it?

Will everyone assume he’s buying me, like Jed and Mama seem to believe?

Thank God Lloyd appears from the back just then, scratching his hard belly and adjusting his baseball cap. “Abigail Mitchell. How are you doin’? How’s Roger? I hear he came home yesterday.”

“He did. He’s on the mend.” Every time I come in here, without fail, Lloyd asks about Daddy. They’ve known each other since they were in diapers. When Lloyd’s wife—Lucy’s mother—died three years ago from cancer, me and Daddy helped run the feed store for a few days to give them time to grieve.

“You in for chicken pellets again?”

“Four bags.”

He fishes his work gloves out of his back pocket. “Pull around back and I’ll toss them in for you.”

“Great, thanks.” They’re heavy bags and, while I can manage, I’d prefer the help. “See you later, Lucy.”

“For sure!”

I duck out before she can continue her interrogation.

~ ~ ~

“Why can’t she just let me live my life?” I quietly complain over a slice of peach cobbler. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and the Pearl is dead save for a man in the corner by the window, reading his newspaper. It’ll pick up again in an hour when people come in to take advantage of the two-for-one dinner discount while they gossip.

“She will, as long as it fits with how she wants you to live it.” Aunt May sticks her tongue out at me.

“Did she do this to you when you were growing up?”

“When we were growing up?” Aunt May snorts, taking a sip of her coffee. “Just last week she told me that it’s time for Lloyd Hornback to find himself a new wife, and I need to let him know that I’m interested.” She leans in. “I like Lloyd Hornback. He’s a nice man. But I ain’t interested in him, and I doubt he’s lookin’ for a new wife. He just likes my spaghetti sauce.”

We share a laugh. Poor Aunt May. She works so many hours, she doesn’t have time to date. More than a few men have come around sniffing over the years. It’s not hard to see why—she’s an attractive, curvy lady with a loud laugh and a fun sense of humor. But she has never married, much to Mama’s dismay.

“She still thinks she can live my life better than I can. The good thing is I don’t have to listen to her. She’s not my mother.”

I groan. “I can’t let her run my life anymore.”

Aunt May sighs. “Bernadette loves you. Really, she does, so don’t ever doubt that. And everything she does and says, she does because she loves you and thinks that her way is the best way. She got it from our mother.”

“She still thinks I’m going to get back together with Jed and run the farm. I am not getting back together with him!”

“And the farm? You’ve definitely changed your mind about that, too?”

“Yes. I mean, I think so. I don’t know. I’m twenty-one, Aunt May! What the heck do I know about what I want to do with the rest of my life? But I just don’t see myself here for the rest of my life. Not anymore.”

She studies me pensively. “Of course you don’t. You had a taste of the outside world and you saw what else was out there, which is a whole lot. There’s nothing worse than being trapped somewhere by guilt. Look at me.” Her olive-green eyes roll over the wallpapered floral walls of the Pearl, the restaurant opened by my great-grandmother, Pearl. It was passed down to my grandma. Aunt May took over when Grandma died from a heart attack. I was nine years old and my mother was already firmly ingrained in the life of farming.

“You don’t hate it that much, do you?”

“Not anymore. And if I did, it wouldn’t matter because I’m too old to pick up and start a new life. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“You’re not that old.” Actually, she’s only four years older than Henry.

Oh my God. I never did the math before.

Her head tips back and that deep chortle of hers that can be heard anywhere in the restaurant fills the dining room. “My point is, this may not have been for me when I took it over, but it kind of feels like mine now. That’s what you need, something that’s yours. That you do for yourself, because you choose to do it. Not because it was forced on you.” Her face turns serious. “Let me ask you this: if you weren’t with this man—”

“His name is Henry,” I correct her. He has a name and it is not “this man” or “that man” or “the wolf” or any other name Mama has taken to calling him.

“Right, Henry. If you weren’t with Henry, would you still be so desperate to get away from Greenbank and the farming life?”

I open my mouth to answer, but no words come out. I don’t know. Would I?

The sad thing is, had I come back to Greenbank for the summer and suffered in silence as Jed paraded Cammie around, never having met Henry or Ronan and Connor, never got onto that plane for Alaska, I would have gladly taken Jed back, not knowing any better.

She holds her hand up. “Don’t answer. Just think on that. I have to go check on the Bolognese sauce. I’ll be back in a second.” Aunt May makes most things from scratch for the menu and she’s known for her exceptional cooking skills.

My phone starts ringing.

“If that’s her, you ought to answer,” she calls over her shoulder. “As difficult as she can be, she’s still your Mama.”

With a groan—because she’s right—I reach for my phone. Only it’s not Mama. It’s not even a number I recognize.

“Hello?”

“Yes, is this Abbi Mitchell?”

“Yes?” I frown. “Who’s calling?” The woman said Abbi, which means she’s tied to Wolf Cove. No one else calls me by that name.

“I’m Zaheera Khan from Nailed It Branding. I’ve been assigned to your account and I’d like to go over a few things with you.”

I frown. “My account?”

“Yes, for your business.”

“For… excuse me, who are you again?” I must sound like an idiot.

“Zaheera Khan for Nailed It Branding. We’re based in New Jersey. We specialize in consumer goods product branding and launching. We’ve been hired to help you design your packaging and platform for your products.”

My products?

My soap. That must be what this is about.

“Who hired you?” Why do I bother asking? This has Henry written all over it.

“Um… I’m not sure, honestly. But I’ve reviewed the initial specs and I’m excited to come up with some design plans with you.”

Initial specs?

There’s a long pause. “Can we schedule a time for a week Monday?”

“Yeah… Sure. Okay.”

After I’ve agreed to a phone call with her, I hang up and immediately text Henry.

Nailed It Branding?

He answers almost immediately.

Is there a question?

I roll my eyes. He’s in business mode.

Why are they calling me?

You said you wanted to hire someone to design packaging for you.

So you went and hired them the very next day?

I don’t waste time. You know that.

I shake my head and sigh.

It’s just a hobby.

Then make it a well-packaged hobby.

Why are you doing all this for me?

Just talk to them. Gotta go. In a meeting.

“You’re always ‘in a meeting,’” I mutter. I don’t know what kinds of important business meetings he’s in if he keeps answering me immediately.

Aunt May slides back into the booth. “What’d Bernadette say?”

“That wasn’t her. That was… nobody.” As much as I love my aunt and I trust her more than anyone else in my family, I can’t completely trust that she won’t tell Mama about this next “extravagance” that Henry’s bought for me, something Mama would also not approve of. What do these kinds of companies even cost?

“I heard the party last night was a big hit. Wish I didn’t have to miss it, but I couldn’t get anyone into the kitchen on such short notice and I can’t afford to close down for dinner.”

“It was really great. So many people came out. I think Daddy was happy.”

“I hear this man… sorry, Henry—” She smiles her apology. “—was there until late last night?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

She gives me a “where do you think?” look.

“And what did she say about him?”

“Nothin’ I’m gonna repeat. But he was quite the talk of the town around here. So are you officially an item?”

“We’re ‘seeing where it goes.’ Honestly? I don’t know.”

She glances out the front window at my new Dodge parked out front. “Sure seems like it’s going somewhere.”

I sigh. “I told him it was too much but he won’t take it back. I don’t know what to do.”

“So he likes spending money on you. I don’t know when that became such a bad thing!” She adds quickly, “Tell your mother I said that and I’ll deny deny deny.”

“Thanks for always having my back.”

She winks. “So when am I gonna get to meet this handsome billionaire? You need to bring him in for a meal.”

My gaze shifts over the quaint interior. It’s small, enough room for only twelve tables, each dressed in red-and-white-checkered tablecloths and balanced with coasters to even them out. I’ve never figured out if it’s the floor or the tables that are the issue. I try to picture Henry, in one of his five-thousand-dollar suits, sitting in here with a bowl of spaghetti but I’m having a hard time. Even though he wouldn’t show up dressed like that, I remind myself. He has a casual side too. Even so, he’d stick out like a gazelle at a dog race.

“I don’t know when I’ll see him again. He’s so busy with work and travelling all over the place.”

“I’m sure he’d be more than willing to buy a ticket so you can meet him somewhere.”

Or send his private jet. I don’t think normal people can comprehend what being a billionaire looks like. I’m terrible with math, but I’m sure the interest he made on his assets today more than paid for that truck.

“Yeah, but what about the farm and Daddy? Mama can’t do all that on her own.”

“Bern could stand to lose a few pounds, but she’s still able to take care of your father. Plus, I can help her, if I have some notice. And there are plenty of farmhands around to help with the farm for a day or two. Let Jed do it, he wants to run that farm so bad.”

“I don’t know.”

She slides out of the booth. “Well, the offer stands. Just give me some notice and I’ll see what I can swing.”

“Thanks, Aunt May.” Why couldn’t Mama be more like her?

“Okay, I gotta get ready for the rush.”

“Do you need any help?” It’s been a while since I took orders and ran plates at the Pearl, but it’s not hard.

“Hoping to avoid her for a while longer?”

I grin sheepishly. “Maybe.”

She nods toward the kitchen. “Fresh aprons are on the hook.”

~ ~ ~

It’s a quarter after ten when I pull up to the house again. The Reverend’s green Oldsmobile is parked next to my old truck, which means that Jed’s parents are inside. They hardly ever travel alone.

Aunt May sent me home with the rest of her Bolognese sauce in a plastic take-out container, along with an entire loaf of garlic bread and her homemade Caesar salad dressing.

Dinner made for tomorrow, minus the pasta—my peace offering for storming out of here earlier today and not answering a single phone call.

Hushed voices buzz from the den when I step into the kitchen. Moments later, heavy footfalls that I recognize creak down the hallway. Jed’s here, too.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!”

I sigh. “I was at the Pearl, and you know I was at the Pearl because Aunt May called here to tell Mama so she wouldn’t worry.” I shoot a glare his way. A “nice try with the guilt trip” glare.

He chews on the inside of his cheek. “You were there all day?”

“I went to the feed store, too. Got four bags of chicken pellets.”

“Guess I had better go put it away before we have another bear problem,” he mutters, marching out the door.

We used to keep our chicken feed in metal cans outside the chicken coop. They had little latches that kept the raccoons out, so we figured we were fine. We’d never had issues. Then five years ago, a black bear wandered here from the mountains. He got into the entire supply one night, ripping the cans apart and making a horrible mess.

Worse, he kept coming back, because when you feed a bear once, they’re as good as your best friend, only with teeth and claws that they’ll use on you. We called Forestry a dozen times but they didn’t come. It turned into such a destructive nuisance, Daddy had to go out with his gun and shoot it.

Thinking back on it now, it was a scrawny, sad-looking thing, its black fur patchy with bones lacking muscle and meat. At the time, I was terrified.

But it was nothing like the grizzly bear that tore apart my jacket in Alaska, that day I went out with Henry to chop wood.

I smile. All thoughts somehow lead back to Henry Wolf. I swear, I’m obsessed with the man. It’s almost painful, being trapped here when I want to be out there with him.

With his hands gripping me and his mouth on me.

With him inside me.

Hushed voices from the den break my reverie. “We’re all just going to have to let this play out, Bernadette,” the Reverend whispers. “She’s being tested, that’s all. Power and greed, and bodily temptations. But in the end, she’ll see the light. She’ll come back to us, stronger for it. I know she will.”

“How on earth am I supposed to just sit by and allow that man to prey on her innocence?”

Not so innocent anymore, Mama.

“It’s in God’s hands now. We can’t force it. We’ve guided her as best we can, but now she must learn how to fight temptation and win.”

“And we will pray for her,” Celeste adds. “We will pray that in the end, she’ll see that he’s no good for her, just like our Jed came to his own conclusion. She’ll see that she belongs here with us, with Jed, living a humble, honest life.”

“And until then, Roger and I are supposed to just idly watch our daughter turn into some sort of materialistic heathen?”

What?

I clench my jaw with frustration as tears prick my eyes, and I listen to them talk about me and condemn Henry for being wealthy. Even though it’s his wealth and connections that saved Daddy. But they’re so narrow-minded, so judgmental, they won’t ever admit to seeing that.

At least Daddy hasn’t joined in on their witch hunt, I note. That brings me some small level of comfort. It likely means that he doesn’t agree with them, but he won’t say anything because he won’t ever argue with the Reverend, no matter what he thinks.

“If you push too hard, you’ll lose her to him. We just need to try and guide her gently.”

“You heard what Jed saw last night. The unspeakable things he was doing to her back behind our barn! Tore her dress right off her!” Mama hisses.

My mouth drops open as my cheeks flare. Oh my God. He actually told them? That sniveling little….

The porch door creaks open. I spin around in time to see Jed stroll in, dusting his hands on his thighs. “There was still some feed left so I—”

The sound of my hand hitting hard across Jed’s cheek carries through the kitchen and, I’m sure, down to the den. “I hate you!” I hiss.

He reaches up to cover his face with his hand, an angry red welt forming quickly. “What did I do to deserve that?” His eyes are filled with genuine shock. He actually has no idea.

I’m a split second away from slapping him again. Before that happens, I march out of the kitchen and upstairs. I grab pajamas and head for the shower to clean the day’s sweat off my body, the one and only place where I won’t be bothered while I try to calm myself.

~ ~ ~

I’m freshly showered and in my pajamas, and there’s no other way to avoid this. So I bite the bullet and head for the den. The Enderbeys left at some point—thank God. Mama’s in her rocking chair watching some British soap opera and Daddy has the latest John Grisham out, his brow furrowed deeply at the page.

I try not to flinch as they both turn to look at me. Daddy, with a look of resignation in his eyes. Mama, with a mixture of disappointment and hurt in hers, as if I’ve done something to personally offend her.

I guess I have. I’ve become my own person and it’s not the person she wants me to be.

“Just wanted to say good night. I’m going to sleep.” I turn to leave.

“Abigail, wait.” Daddy sets his book down and slides his glasses off. “Come in here and talk to us for a moment, please. Let’s not go to bed angry.”

He doesn’t sound angry, at least. I veer around Mama to sit down in the wooden kitchen chair next to his bed.

No one says anything, but Mama’s lips are pressed firmly together like it’s taking everything in her power not to speak. Her face is literally turning red from the challenge.

He sighs. “That’s some truck you’re driving.”

I sigh. “It is. Henry thought I’d appreciate it and he was worried about me driving my old truck. It’s not in the best shape. He thought this would be a lot safer.”

“No, it’s not. You’re right. And I like that he’s worried about your safety.”

“If he were worried about her safety, he wouldn’t be—”

“Bernadette!” Daddy’s voice booms in the old house.

She clamps her mouth immediately.

Creak.

Thump.

Creak.

Thump.

Creak.

Thump.

Back and forth on the rocking chair she goes, at a furious tempo.

“We all want you to be happy. But it’s also important that you don’t lose sight of who you are. Sometimes things like money can make you say and do things that aren’t… things you’d normally do. You could end up not being proud of who you are one day, and it’s our job to try to not let that happen.”

Is this his way of saying that I should be ashamed of having sex behind the barn with Henry?

I sigh. “I know, Daddy. But I have to make my own mistakes and figure my own life out. And I can tell you now that no matter if Henry is in my life or not tomorrow, I’m not the same girl I was when I left for Alaska, and I’m happy for that. That girl would have taken Jed back. I never will. I’m too good for that.”

Mama opens her mouth to speak but Daddy spears her with another glare.

“We’ve heard you loud and clear, haven’t we, Bernadette?”

Finally, she offers a nod, swallowing a few times until whatever opinion is burning a hole in her tongue dissipates. “You hit Jed. Hard enough to leave a welt.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that he….”

She arches a brow in warning and my excuses fade.

“You’re right. There’s no reason good enough. I’m sorry.”

Her gaze wanders to the TV, though she’s not paying attention to that. “Don’t say sorry to me.”

I sigh. “I’ll call him.”

She nods, and I can almost see her checking off a box in her list of “Things Abigail Must Do.”

“The Enderbeys and I had a fine idea. We have that BBQ coming up and we’re fundraising to fix up the hall. We’re short on raffle prizes, so we figure if we sell tickets at fifty dollars apiece, that truck will fetch more than enough in no time. The phone’s already been ringing off the hook all day, with people who’ve seen you drivin’ it around town, asking about it.”

My mouth drops open. They’ve been discussing raffling off my truck. A gift from Henry, to me. My truck?

“No way!”

Mama’s brows raise. “Are you sayin’ you won’t share your good fortune with the church and your community?”

This isn’t about sharing my good fortune. This is about Mama getting her way, one way or another. Now she’s playing the charity card because she knows it’s a strong one. “This isn’t fair! Besides, the Milners are already donating a full cow. And I know Aunt May put in a hundred-dollar gift card. There are already plenty of prizes up for grabs.”

Mama shakes her head. “It’s already startin’. The materialism. The selfishness.”

Selfish? She’s calling me selfish now?

Daddy reaches out and grasps my hand, pulling my attention away before I start screaming at her. “The Enderbeys were simply trying to give you options, in case you didn’t feel right giving the truck back but didn’t feel right keepin’ it. No one’s gonna make you do something you don’t want to do. If you want to keep the truck….” He sighs. “Then that’s your choice.”

My lips twist. While I’m relieved to hear him support me, I can’t help feel that it’s all for show. That I’d be wrong to keep it. After all, the church could use it. Our entire community could use it. Is Mama right? Am I being selfish?

“What would you do?” I ask softly, pleading with him to give me his honest opinion, regardless of what it is.

His mouth wavers. “They’ll have no problem raising money another way. I’d rather see my daughter safe on the road and happy.”

The rocking chair comes to a jarring halt. Mama skewers him with her gaze. He’s just earned himself a few days of browbeating, unable to get away from her while she natters on about how he’s working against everything she and the Enderbeys are trying to achieve. She’ll just keep going and going and going, thinking that if she talks at him long enough, she’ll break him down and get her way.

I give him a pitying smile.

Finding his page in his book once again, he slides his glasses over his eyes and grumbles, “But what do I know? I have that head injury, remember?”

I lean down and plant a kiss on his forehead before ducking out and heading upstairs to crawl into bed. Two messages from Henry are waiting to cheer me up.

If you’re still awake… Good Night.

And ten minutes later a second one:

And if not… Good Morning.

I smile.

Just going to sleep now. Rough day. Miss you.

I decide to message Jed while I wait for a response.

You shouldn’t have told them about me and Henry behind the barn. But I’m sorry I hit you.

He responds a few minutes later.

I only told them because I love you.

As much as I want to tell him to go to hell and to move on, I can’t bring myself to do it.

See you at the market.

I fall asleep waiting for Henry’s message back.