Page 60 of Feels Like Home

The look can mean lots of different things.

“Stop talking,” or “Put your shoes back on, this is church,” or “Why did you think what you picked up in the grazing field was mud?”

In this case, the look says, “I’m done talking about this, and please don’t bring it up again.”

“I have to go.” I push past her, back into the bedroom.

“Oh right! Because he’s waiting for you.” She sing-songs this, and I roll my eyes and start for the door.

“And because you have a crush.”

My hand is on the doorknob. I could just slip right out, go to the lake, and get out all my frustration rowing my kayak. But the truth is, I’m freaking out. And Rowena might be younger than I am, but she is my best friend.

I turn around. “It’s not a crush.”

Her eyebrows shoot up like she doesn’t believe me.

“It feels so much bigger than that,” I finally admit out loud.

“Oh, my heck. Tell me everything.” She drops onto the bed and watches me.

I start to, but then I shake my head. “I can’t. I can’t let myself go there. We both know how this ends.”

“Do we?” she says.

“Yes, Rowe, we do.”

“And how is that? Because I’m picturing an engagement ring and a white dress. Is that what you’re thinking, or . . .?”

I flop down beside her. “I’m thinking I need to get a grip.” I prop myself up on my elbows and stare at her. “He’s not a good guy, Rowe. He’s not.”

“Says the woman who walked around all day yesterday to prove to the rest of the town that he is.” She quirks a brow. “That’s what Dale McCauley⁠—”

“How the heck do you know about that?”

“Noble told Boone who told West who told me,” she says with a shrug.

“He . . .” I try not to be overly interested. “He talked about it? What did he say?”

“A lot, apparently, but mostly that you stood up for him.” She purses her lips.

“I did. But it’s not a big deal,” I say. “It’s one thing for us to talk crap about him, but it’s another thing for those people to do that.”

“That doesn’t really make sense, but I’ll go with it.”

I roll my eyes and lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Rowena lays down beside me, our heads together. “Remember when you put up all those glow-in-the-dark star stickers?”

I look at them now, stuck to the ceiling. “Yeah. I was convinced I could recreate the entire night sky.”

“I mean, you kind of did, except—” she points at a blank space— “I never told you about the Pleiades, though.”

“What about them? I thought they fell off.”

“I didn’t like that there were seven sisters. I picked off five of them so there were only two.”

I turn to look at her, and she looks back.