Page 14 of Unstable

But who better to talk to than Donna? And I find myself answering my own question by doing just that. “I looked around yesterday, it’s so much. Calves are weaned, hay’s up, for now. But what about next season? I can’t run a farm by myself. And this town? I don’t think I could live here again.”

“Slow down, you’re getting yourself all worked up. One thing at a time. Sounds like you’re set for a few months, and you can always sell some calves if needed, give yourself time to really think about things. Right?”

“I guess so, but I’m not sure I want to stick around Ashfall any longer than I have to. People will start talking. I…I can’t go through that again, Donna.”

“You listen to me.” She wraps me in a hug. “Let them talk. Just a bunch of bored old country folk with nothing interesting going on in their own lives. Anyone who matters knows you, knew your family, and will support you any way they can. And the rest…you just tell me who gives you an ounce of trouble, and I’ll send Loy after them with the shotgun! Let them talk about that for a while.”

I snort in amusement, thinking of Donna’s husband, Loy, playing bodyguard. Sweetest man I’ve ever known, always with a green pack of Spearmint gum in his shirt pocket, ready to offer a stick to anyone he sees. Imagine him running around town with a shotgun. That’d definitely get them talking. ‘The Gum Guy Goes Rogue’ would make a pretty scandalous headline for the small town newspaper.

“I appreciate that. How is Loy? And Emily?”

“Both are good. Loy’s always busy around the farm, and Emily,” her brow creases, “went off to college and decided to stay. Met a man, they’ve been married a couple years now. I wish I saw her more often than I do.”

I stay silent, not about to chime in on matters of a mother not seeing her daughter. I’m the poster child for that.

I clear my throat, the guilt closing in around me, and offer a polite excuse to leave. “I just remembered, I left Bourbon in the truck, so I need to go. You’ll call me with the details on, the um—”

“Yes dear, I’ll let you know. And Henley?” I pivot and look back at her. “You could always talk to Keaton, if you need any help.” She stares down at the ground as she fidgets with her hands to add, “Or wanted to sell off any part of the land.”

My jaw drops, fury trumpeting through my veins. “Keaton Cash?” I hiss, already knowing the answer.

“Uh huh,” she utters to the floor. “Boy’s made quite a stead for himself, did an excellent job taking over that farm. His poor Daddy, heart attack,” she whispers…because somehow lowering your voice makes it so it’s not gossiping? “So they moved to Florida and left everything for Keaton to run. I’m sure he’d be happy to work something out with you. Just an option for your back pocket.”

I tamp down the bite in my tone, which is difficult to do while also choking down the threat of vomit. “I’ll die before Keaton Cash gets so much as a blade of grass on my family’s land. And should you run into him, could you make sure he’s clear on that? Wouldn’t want him wasting any time planning on things that will never happen.”

“I’m sorry, honey. Just a silly old woman thinking out loud. Forget I said anything.” She peers up at me, a cowered glaze of shame in her eyes. She probably thinks I’m just offended at the idea of selling. She has no idea how much deeper than that it goes. Or does she? After all, everyone seems to know when you take a piss in this town, so perhaps she’s keen to why I loathe Keaton Cash.

But there’s no excuse for me snipping at her. “No, I’m sorry. You’re doing so much to help me, and you’ve always been good to me. I was out of line with my tone, and I apologize. It’s just, that name alone makes my blood boil. I’m sorry I took it out on you, Donna.”

“Apology accepted, sweet girl. Now you better go see to that dog of yours before he drives away.”

We share a shallow laugh and hug before I leave, my thoughts a rapidly building vortex of anger and confusion. I’m not even going to think about Keaton. Paying it any thought is paying it credence, and he far from deserves either.

And he better steer clear of me.

Loy isn’t the only one who knows how to use a shotgun

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