tossed out in the middle of their driveway, just a few hundred feet from the paved road. Only instead of it being sent for Mrs. Jana, it was sent for Wade. Kara turned the paper over to read the rest of the same article. She didn’t have anything to take notes with and she felt half-naked for that, but she at least read each column, each section.
The morning after walking in her dad’s house, he’d forced her to sit at the breakfast table to read the paper and take notes. Every evening he’d quiz her. It was his twisted way to make sure she wasn’t turning into her mom and mentally losing all touch with the present day.
She hated it...but she couldn’t stop reading the paper every day for that purpose. A chill slithered over her shoulders even though it was a hot morning.
Footsteps crunched over the gravel behind her and she turned to see who was coming. She’d hoped for Whitney. It wasn’t Whitney. Any lasting moisture in her throat sizzled and dried as the oldest Chester sibling walked her way. Tate Chester. She hadn’t known Tate as well. He was about eight years older than Wade, so she had only vague memories of the guy as a teenager. When she got older, Tate was off to college then moved into his own home. Like Wade, Tate was tall and broad but where Wade was dark, Tate was lighter.
Where Wade could be funny and charming when he wanted to be, Tate was not. He stopped in front of her and gave her a single direct nod that was full of judgment. “Kara.”
She tried a little smile. “Good to see you, Tate.”
He didn’t return the smile. She never really understood where this part of Tate came from. Their dad was fun and humorous. Their mom loving and caring. All her memories of Tate included a lot of seriousness. Oh, there were times he’d joke around with his family, but it wasn’t the same. At holidays and birthdays, he was most often on a back deck with a pencil and a drawing pad.
He stared down at her. “I was surprised to hear you’d come back.”
She nodded. “I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”
“So why didn’t you?”
That was Tate. “My grandma was ill as she got older. When I would have returned, she worsened. I took care of her.”
“Sorry for your loss. I heard she passed away a little over a year ago.”
Her throat tightened at the mention of her passing grandma. Kara wasn’t sure how she would have fared if she’d been under her dad’s roof for the entire time until she’d been able to afford her own place. Her grandma had been her saving grace. “Thank you. I still miss her a lot.”
“Whitney told me why you’re here.”
And she was nodding again. Also swiping her damp palms on her hips. “Making jam. Like my grandma taught me.”
“How is your mother?”
“Alive.” Last she checked. And that had been some time ago. Was hard to visit when last time her mother accused her of being a thief trying to steal her stash of butterscotch candy. Staff had to restrain her mother and Kara left without a look back. Somehow that lump in the back corner of her heart that was a lot like heartburn remained. “Yours?”
“Happy.”
“Good.” She glanced around, hoping for some sort of distraction or something, but it wasn’t to be. Everyone was off in the fields or digging into sandwiches at the tables in the shade. It was just Tate and her and the slight breeze. “How is your store?”
Tate owned a jewelry store where he handcrafted a lot of his own items. There was no missing the pride he took in his work by the smile that crossed his face. “Real good. I’ve had my own store about six years now.”
“Sounds good.”
The smile on his face dropped and he stared at her. The small chitchat was over. “I want to be clear, Kara, you’re not going to act like you did before you left. Not while you’re working with us.”
She swallowed back the knot itching up her throat. “I understand and I won’t be.”
“I’m not sure what Whitney was thinking by
The morning after walking in her dad’s house, he’d forced her to sit at the breakfast table to read the paper and take notes. Every evening he’d quiz her. It was his twisted way to make sure she wasn’t turning into her mom and mentally losing all touch with the present day.
She hated it...but she couldn’t stop reading the paper every day for that purpose. A chill slithered over her shoulders even though it was a hot morning.
Footsteps crunched over the gravel behind her and she turned to see who was coming. She’d hoped for Whitney. It wasn’t Whitney. Any lasting moisture in her throat sizzled and dried as the oldest Chester sibling walked her way. Tate Chester. She hadn’t known Tate as well. He was about eight years older than Wade, so she had only vague memories of the guy as a teenager. When she got older, Tate was off to college then moved into his own home. Like Wade, Tate was tall and broad but where Wade was dark, Tate was lighter.
Where Wade could be funny and charming when he wanted to be, Tate was not. He stopped in front of her and gave her a single direct nod that was full of judgment. “Kara.”
She tried a little smile. “Good to see you, Tate.”
He didn’t return the smile. She never really understood where this part of Tate came from. Their dad was fun and humorous. Their mom loving and caring. All her memories of Tate included a lot of seriousness. Oh, there were times he’d joke around with his family, but it wasn’t the same. At holidays and birthdays, he was most often on a back deck with a pencil and a drawing pad.
He stared down at her. “I was surprised to hear you’d come back.”
She nodded. “I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”
“So why didn’t you?”
That was Tate. “My grandma was ill as she got older. When I would have returned, she worsened. I took care of her.”
“Sorry for your loss. I heard she passed away a little over a year ago.”
Her throat tightened at the mention of her passing grandma. Kara wasn’t sure how she would have fared if she’d been under her dad’s roof for the entire time until she’d been able to afford her own place. Her grandma had been her saving grace. “Thank you. I still miss her a lot.”
“Whitney told me why you’re here.”
And she was nodding again. Also swiping her damp palms on her hips. “Making jam. Like my grandma taught me.”
“How is your mother?”
“Alive.” Last she checked. And that had been some time ago. Was hard to visit when last time her mother accused her of being a thief trying to steal her stash of butterscotch candy. Staff had to restrain her mother and Kara left without a look back. Somehow that lump in the back corner of her heart that was a lot like heartburn remained. “Yours?”
“Happy.”
“Good.” She glanced around, hoping for some sort of distraction or something, but it wasn’t to be. Everyone was off in the fields or digging into sandwiches at the tables in the shade. It was just Tate and her and the slight breeze. “How is your store?”
Tate owned a jewelry store where he handcrafted a lot of his own items. There was no missing the pride he took in his work by the smile that crossed his face. “Real good. I’ve had my own store about six years now.”
“Sounds good.”
The smile on his face dropped and he stared at her. The small chitchat was over. “I want to be clear, Kara, you’re not going to act like you did before you left. Not while you’re working with us.”
She swallowed back the knot itching up her throat. “I understand and I won’t be.”
“I’m not sure what Whitney was thinking by
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