You'd Be Mine(45)

A few minutes later, Fitz circles the truck to the driver’s seat, red eyes hidden behind frames. He throws my old clunker Ford into drive and kicks up gravel as he pulls away from the side of the cemetery gates.

We’re silent the entire drive back to my grandpa’s farm. He left it to both Danny and me in his will, but really Danny took care of it. He sold off the decent farming soil and kept the house and the woodshed for me. He kept the truck for himself.

But in the end, it all came to me anyway. I could barely drive. When the news came that a roadside bomb had attacked Danny’s unit, I’d only had my license a week. That day, it was raining in icy sheets. Fitz found me in Danny’s truck, shivering and soaked to the bone. I hadn’t bothered to roll up the windows—just sat there, unfeeling and practically comatose. Fitz tells me I didn’t speak for three days afterward. I threw out all of Danny’s things in a fit of rage. I got into my grandfather’s liquor cabinet and drank my way through until Fitz showed up and started pouring it all down the drain.

I never cried. I’d grown used to being alone, so Danny’s death was just one more.

In the end, everyone leaves.

Fitz pulls up the drive, and I see his newer-model F-150 parked in front of the barn.

“You told her where I live?”

Fitz sighs impatiently in response and slams his door.

I follow him out, taking a split-second to let the light-headed feeling pass. “You had no right. This is my home.”

Kacey swings open the door and steps out onto the porch with a glass of tea in her hand like la-di-da. Fitz grabs hold of my arm in a painful squeeze. “Don’t you dare take it out on her. It was this or they were gonna wait at the cemetery. I figured you didn’t need an audience.”

“They?” I sputter. It’s only then I realize Annie has been sitting in the swing the entire time. I meet her eyes as something like pity passes over her face. And something more. It’s the pity that grates, though. A frustrated growl starts in my chest. Fitz’s hold tightens.

“Clay’s just gonna get cleaned up for the party at Taps. I’ll be right out to drive you ladies back to your hotel so you can get freshened up to join us.”

“Oh, we don’t—”

Fitz does an about-face, jabbing a finger at Annie. In mock sternness, he says, “You don’t want to finish that. This is our town, Annie. Let us take you out and show you around our home field. I expect the same treatment when we hit Michigan next month.”

Annie looks like she wants to protest, but Kacey takes a cue from her boyfriend and grabs her hand, dragging her up from the swing. Annie shakes off her hold and steps to the doorway, blocking our entrance. She glares at Fitz, who huffs and mutters, “Stubborn Yank,” and releases my arm, heading inside with a slam of the screen door. Ten to one he’s listening right out of sight to make sure I behave.

It rankles something awful. Apparently, his pep talk with Danny included a renewal of his taking over my care.

“That’s my grandma’s swing. No one’s sat in it since she passed,” I say bluntly.

Annie turns bright red and starts to stutter an apology.

I cut her off. “Christ. It’s fine. You didn’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter. No one else around but me to care.”

I hear the truck door slam and know Kacey is giving us privacy. Annie scratches at her arm, distracted. I follow her fingertips. She’s wearing her customary tank top, but this one’s more casual. Not stage casual, but real-life casual.

“Guess you know the whole sorry truth now,” I say. “Poor Clay Coolidge, brother of a fallen soldier,” I say mockingly.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Jefferson.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I mean it. I had no idea your brother was a soldier killed in the line of duty.”

“Yeah, well. I prefer it that way. He doesn’t need his sloppy kid brother dishonoring his sacrifice.”

Annie’s blue eyes grow wide. “Is that really what you think?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

Annie just nods in her quiet way. Thinking. She’s always thinking. She looks out over my farm, taking it in.

I sway slightly.

“I can see why you might. But someone once told me if I didn’t want to end up a certain way, to just don’t.”

“Just don’t,” I repeat.

Her gaze flickers back to me, studying my face. “Yes, Jefferson. If I don’t want to be like my parents, I just need to not be like my parents. If you don’t want to dishonor your brother’s sacrifice, then don’t. I’ll admit, it’s a work in progress, but perhaps you ought to give it a shot.” I stare at her, and she clears her throat, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your brother. I didn’t know where Fitz was going this afternoon when I offered to come along. I only wanted to see around town. I … we never meant to impose on your personal life.”

I crack a smile at her awkwardness. Just like that, she’s managed to disarm me. It’s like some Annie voodoo. I forget my misery, always—even if only for a minute—around this girl.

“You’d be the very first.”

“First what?”

“The first to not want to impose on my personal life.”