Page 50 of The Surprise

I can’t help laughing. “You’re in for a very rough few weeks, I’m afraid.”

“You should stop being sorry and afraid, young man.” She scowls at me. “You don’t know what you have, so you should stop telling people things you don’t understand.”

Um, okay.

“I’m more excited for my houseguests than I have been in a long time, and I need to rearrange some furniture to make sure you’re all comfortable.”

Two and a half hours later, I’ve moved three beds out of storage and set them up, and I’ve helped her put clean linens on the mattresses. We also cleaned off several end tables, chest-of-drawers, and desks, and moved them into the rooms that were deemed deficient.

“It looks like I need to order about ten pillows,” she says.

“We have lots of pillows,” I say. “We can bring our own.”

“Are you sure?” She pins me with the glare I’m growing used to seeing.

“A hundred percent,” I say.

“Hm.” She sighs.

I see my opportunity to break away and take it. “Maybe I better head on over to the car and start unloading it.”

She shakes her head. “Of course, of course. Sorry this took so long. You’re a better sport than you look.”

Does she mean I’m more athletic? Or is she commenting on my attitude? “Sorry,” I say. “It’s been a bad month.”

She barks a laugh. “I guess it has. I know you’re the one who had your heart set on that ranch.”

I can’t bring myself to say anything.

“Chin up, boy. Things have a way of working out.”

“Maybe in movies,” I mutter.

“Ethan Brooks.” Amanda’s straightened up to her full five foot three inches. Her hair’s poking up at strange angles now that she’s not wearing her hat. Her bony elbows are both visible, with her baggy sweater shoved up above them, and her right eyebrow has a piece of lint dangling from it.

Even so, she manages to be pretty intimidating.

“What?”

“You, sir, need a better attitude.”

“I need better luck.”

If she starts lecturing me, I’m going to have to bite my tongue. I swear, old people think that if they talk to us long enough, our feelings will just age out and die. That’s not how it works. But I also know that anything I say will probably be repeated to my mom, so. . .

“Your luck in life will always be shifting.” As if the hot air inflating her fury somehow justpoof, disappeared, she abruptly sits. “But your family’s always there for you.”

She’s not wrong—and she is. “Unless they die.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes flashing. “Yes, until they die.”

I shrug. “I’ll try to have a better attitude.”

“Is it just about the ranch?” She looks curious. “And your dad? Or is it something more? Something else?”

I look at the door. I was so close to escaping. “Just the ranch,” I say. “I’m fine.”

“So it was something else.” Her half smile’s a little unnerving.

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