Page 113 of Love in Riverbend
“They won’t see us,” Jill says. “And maybe we can hear if they’re talking about you.”
About me.
“I’m going to be sick.”
Jill reaches for my hand and tugs me forward. “No, you’re not. Come on.”
Reluctantly, I do as my friends bid and move toward the backside of the barn. We stay low to the ground, hiding in the shadows. If it wasn’t for the gigantic knot forming in the pit of my stomach, this adventure would be fun.
My breathing catches as I realize why I’m afraid.
I don’t want to be caught.
More than that, I don’t want to be caught by Ricky and his friends and be made fun of, be made to feel like a child. That would be horrible. Even worse would be seeing the look on Justin’s face when he recognizes me.
My mind conjures up the image of an angry Justin Sheers, one who is upset with me. I have no doubt that in my scenario, our one kiss would be a secret we’d both agree to take to the grave. That would also mean it would forever remain only one kiss.
Chapter 7
Justin
“You boys are so sweet,” Mrs. Gordon says with a smile.
Boys.
Everyone standing here is thirty years old or older.
That doesn’t matter. Mrs. Gordon remembers when our parents were born. Her face is filled with wrinkles, and her hair is white as snow, and at the same time, she’s as sweet as her kind ways.
“Thank you for making certain the fire is out,” she says. “If you’re sure you’ll stay, I can go to bed.”
“It’s getting late,” Ricky says.
“And cold,” I say, seeing the heavy coat draped over her slumped shoulders. “We promise, Mrs. Gordon.”
She reaches for my hand.
I look down, feeling the coolness of her touch. “Bruce and I have been blessed to have all the men and women of Riverbend in our lives.”
“I think it goes both ways,” I say. “I can’t imagine Riverbend without you or your farm.” Yeah, maybe thoughts of the Dunn farm have me feeling sentimental.
Shaking her head, Mrs. Gordon’s eyes grow moist as she speaks. “Your dad and his dad before him would help us back in the day, come by before we asked. Sheers boys have always been good ones and hard workers.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She turns to Ricky. “Same for the Dunn family. We’re all staples of this land.”
Ricky smiles and nods.
Mrs. Gordon moves around the fire, speaking to each one of us, telling a story about someone in our family. When she comes back to me, her smile is intact. “Good night, boys.”
“Good night, Mrs. Gordon,” we reply in unison.
“May I walk you to the house?” Harvey Russel asks.
“No.” She waves him off. “The day I can’t walk this farm is the day I sell.” She pursed her lips. “And that’s not happening anytime soon.”
For a moment we stand silently and watch as the elderly woman makes her way toward her house. Without a doubt, Mrs. Gordon is a pillar of Riverbend. She and Bruce were friends with my grandparents. While the Gordons never had children, each generation has embraced them as family.
