Page 11 of The Fence Between Us

The citizens of Shiloh Hills considered the parade floats a point of pride. If a business or an individual chose to participatein the Independence Day parade, everyone expected a level of commitment and flare. Skye had seen more dedication to these floats than some marriages, not that anyone talked about that. Without fail, businesses began planning changes and upgrades immediately following July Fourth for following year’s festivities.

In the past, Skye had never dedicated herself to any particular float or committee, knowing full well her stepmother presumed she would work on the one for the mayor’s office, her father’s office. She hated it. Not only did she loathe the lack of creative license because glitter and bright colors apparently jarred her father’s nerves, but she also detested anything that had to do with politics. Unfortunately, as the mayor’s daughter, people always assumed it was in her blood. Skye would rather walk barefoot through the streets than work on his float.

Thanks to the extra responsibility that came along with summer school teaching, she had doggedly avoided her stepmother’s questions over the last several months and thought she might skip the parade planning this year, a welcome change of pace, until Elyza called nearly in tears. Like Skye, Elyza had a tendency of over-extending herself and her resources and had promised to help both the library and the historical society with their floats. So, Skye offered her services for the bridal shop. She couldn’t resist the way the lights sparkled off the jewelry and the crystals decorating the beautiful dresses, and she relished the way the silks and satin fabrics brushed softly against her skin. For once, helping would be fun—and a great distraction from thinking about Rabble.

Seeing him had been a jarring experience. Skye tried desperately not to think about the days since Rabble’s mother passed away, the days when he should’ve been there but wasn’t. Especially that fateful day, the one caused her physical pain to think about, that had changed everything. She’d hurriedhome from the graduation ceremony, skating passed friends and faculty trying to congratulate her on her speech or her scholarships to the most prestigious schools in the country. She’d run to and from her car, her bag packed and hidden beside the fence, but Rabble wasn’t waiting for her. Her entire world unraveled like a ball of yarn dropped down a flight of stairs.

His return to town shook her, rattling the mostly solid foundation she’d established. Though she knew it was a lie, Skye told herself daily that he didn’t matter, their time together meant nothing beyond the friendship and dalliances of two lonely and scared kids. Each lie she told herself, her heart sputtered and whispered, “liar” over and over. Skye thought back to Elyza’s shop, trying to draw forth the features of the others with Rabble from her memory bank but it failed her. All she had seen, all that mattered, was him. Was Rabble.

Nope, I’m not thinking about him.

Working her way toward the left side of the warehouse, Skye glanced at each sign until she found the one for The Wild Bride. A black-framed 16-foot-long trailer with a newly replaced pine wood floor waited to be dressed up for the whole town to see.

Skye smiled and rolled her shoulders, letting the stress flow from her body. She pictured the tension leaving her through her feet and left it on the concrete floor, far away from the area where she’d be working. Anticipating a sweaty afternoon, she’d worn her rattiest pair of jeans and a tank top with paint splattering the chest, and she’d twisted her hair into the messiest bun she’d ever managed, with paintbrushes tucked into the knot like individual peacock feathers. Whether or not she would use paint today, Skye had been around children long enough to know she should plan for chaos and dress accordingly.

She wasn’t sure what time Elyza’s brother would arrive, or which one, but she was eager to lose herself in the process of making her friend’s artistic vision come to life. She wanted tocreate beauty in her world, which sometimes felt colorless, as if all of her creativity and joy had been leached from her over the years.

Frowning, she hauled a deep breath into her lungs. She hadn’t always been so bland and broken, had she? Then again, she couldn’t exactly recall a time in recent history when she’d done something spontaneous. Spontaneity required leaving her comfort zone and leveling risk against reward. She wasn’t comfortable with either of those, and a part of her hated that.

Setting her coffee down on the metal fender well of the trailer, Skye took in the light-colored wooden boards of the trailer deck and the long, black-painted metal frame. Sylvie Basket’s legendary 1940’s robin-egg blue truck, with white wall tires, would pull the entire float while Mrs. Basket rode shotgun and her assistant, Olivia, drove.

Skye stared at the printout Elyza shared, which primarily included rough sketches and color swatches. She alternated looking at her paper and studying the trailer until the pieces of the plan fell into place, and Elyza’s vision came to life. Skye couldn’t help but cave to the eagerness that lit her from the inside.

The sound of heavy footsteps startled her from her thoughts, and Skye whipped around. Instead of finding one of Elyza’s brothers, Rabble stood before her, his hands tucked into his jeans, his eyes darker, the lines around his mouth deeper. He looked apprehensive, like he had been worrying over what type of emotional turmoil might have been waiting for him today, like how she felt every time she approached her parents’ house.

Emotions welled in her chest. Her gut churned, and a sick feeling crept through her as she took him in. With his simple T-shirt tight against his muscled arms, Skye hated to admit it, but he looked good but also…weary.

But why was he here? “What are you doing…”

“Elyza asked us to help.”

“Oh.”

Neither spoke for a long moment, unsure what else to say. She wracked her brain, searching for any topic that might be safe territory but came up empty. Desperate to end the silence, Skye fell back on the familiar and blurted out simple directions as if she were talking to her students.

“Okay, so let’s get started. If you can build the platform, then I can focus on the piecing together the accents.” Hearing herself, she winced, hoping he didn’t think she was purposefully being condescending.

Rabble nodded, accepting his duty without complaint, “Aye, aye captain.”

Skye rolled her eyes and hefted the box of crafting supplies Elyza had given her, onto the platform. She popped the top off of the tote, hearing a long, low whistle from where Rabble had climbed up on the trailer bed.

“What?” her eyebrow quirked.

“That’s a lot of shit.”

Skye snorted and shook her head, “Just … get to work.”

He bent at the waist, giving her a mocking bow before turning to assess the pile of supplies that had been left for them. Skye turned in a circle, searching for an outlet on one of the many pillars that held the roof above them. Finding one near the ground, she bent, glue gun in hand. A subtle clearing of a throat had her whipping around, Rabble stared at her, jaw clenched.

“What now?” She huffed.

“It’s just … there’s an outlet over here,” he pointed toward the post nearest him, “it’s higher off the ground and closer to the trailer.”

Skye’s brain blanked and her cheeks heated at the assumption she’d jumped to. Of course he hadn’t been checking her out. Why would he? He had no lingering interest in her.

“Uh, thanks.”

They worked near each other, their relative silence hanging a bit awkwardly in the air, neither willing to address that strange feeling between them. Skye focused, stringing and gluing flowers together with an intense concentration that went beyond the task at hand. Rabble likewise poured his attention into his task, the hammer in his hand swinging and banging against the framing posts with finality.

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