Page 107 of The Back Forty
The air is thick and wet with summer heat, like the humidity itself is something you have to push through to get to your destination.
Cicadas scream down by the trees surrounding the lake that the town's creek pours into, their constant buzz cutting through the quiet in a way that sets my already frayed nerves on edge.
I stop in front of the faded, blue screen door, raising a hand to knock and hesitating for a moment. Beside me, Dani’s fingers lace through mine, her grip warm and steady.
“It’s going to be fine,” she says softly, her voice a balm. “Didn’t you say Molly and Rhett were close growing up?”
I nod, throat tight. “Yeah. He lived across the street from her and Maverick their whole lives. Always getting into trouble with that one friend, Jael, I think her name was. But she and Molly left town at eighteen.”
Dani gives me one of her quiet smiles, the kind that always makes me feel like I’ve already made it through the hard part. Her brown eyes are warm and certain, like she believes in me and that this is the right thing to do even when all I want to do is throw her in my truck and drive back to my house to hide out.
We hadn’t called ahead. Just showed up, unannounced, on a Sunday evening—because this is when Colt said Rhett usually comes by to visit his mom for Sunday supper. She still lives in the same trailer he grew up in. The same one across from Molly’s old place where her dad still lives. The same street I walked down as a kid and wondered if I'd ever get the courage to get to know my only blood brother.
“Maybe I should’ve given him some sort of warning,” I murmur, stomach flipping.
She shrugs. “It’s too late now. And honestly? I think this is something better said face-to-face. Molly made it sound like he always wanted a sibling growing up. And Rhett’s always struck me as a good guy. He’ll understand, Lawson. You guys already know each other, but now you get to know each other as brother’s.”
God, I hope she’s right.
I don’t know Rhett well. He’s Molly and Colt’s age—just a few years younger than me. But I trust my sister-in-law. The little that Idoknow about him is secondhand.
He runsWhitewood Creek Plumbingnow. Bought it off the old guy who used to fix every busted pipe in town. Except Rhett’s turned the business around—manages facilities for the state fair,does plumbing for half the government buildings in this county and is working on expanding to the next. He's an entrepreneur a lot like us Marshall's and he might not carry the Marshall name, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t cut from the same cloth.
We’ve both made something out of nothing. Both busted our asses to rise above the man who contributed nothing more than a sperm to our existence. And that makes me proud to know him. Excited and nervous to finally get to know him as a brother.
The door creaks open and a shorter woman stands there, her dark, black hair streaked with gray and kind eyes soft behind her reading glasses. I recognize her instantly from her volunteer badge at the state fair. I think she helped manage the first-aid tent last year.
I don’t know why, but the sight of her nearly knocks the air out of my lungs because she made it out alive and my mom didn't.
There’s this small, quiet part of me that wants to hug her. Which feels insane. But I guess when you meet the only other person you know who survived your biological father, the instinct isn’t all that strange.
“Lawson Marshall,” she says, smiling warmly. “Well, aren’t you a sight. What brings you by this evening?”
I extend my hand, but she pulls me into a hug instead. It’s brief but genuine, and I hug her back without thinking.
“Hello. We were hoping to see if Rhett was home.” My voice sounds stiff and awkward coming out. “This is Daniela Alba,” I say, stepping aside. “My girlfriend.”
“Hi there, Daniela,” she says, hugging her too. “Think I’ve seen you around town a few times. You help out with the distillery, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I work with Lawson on Sales and Marketing for the Marshall family businesses,” Dani says, hugging her back without hesitation.
She steps aside and gestures us in. “Well come on in. This heat’s no joke. I’ve got the A/C running full blast—only reason I haven’t melted clean into the carpet.”
We follow her into the modest trailer. It’s small and lived-in but tidy, everything in its place. The floral curtains are pulled back to let in the last of the light. The smell of fried chicken lingers in the air, warm and familiar. At the small kitchen table, Rhett sits hunched over his phone, watching what looks like a baseball game in an almost comical manner.
The guy's easily six-foot-four just like me and this place is cramped. When he looks up, he blinks at me in surprise. I wonder how we look all huddled in this tiny home, showing up out of nowhere.
“Hey, Lawson,” he says slowly and then looks around confused. “You joining us for Sunday dinner?”
“Hey, man.” I tip my hat back and run a hand through my hair. The ceiling is low, and both of us—tall and broad—feel too big for this space, like we’ve outgrown more than just our pasts.
Dani squeezes my hand again, encouraging me to tell him why I’m really here, and I take a breath.
“Sorry to drop in like this,” I say. “But I needed to talk to you. Both of you.”
Rhett locks his phone, setting it screen-down on the table, then leans back in his chair. That’s when it really hits me. We look so much alike. I've known about him for years. Seen him around town plenty but I've never allowed myself to take notice because it felt like a betrayal to the Marshall family in some warped way.
And it's not just in the way people say strangers can sometimes resemble each other. No, this is bone deep. Same hazel eyes with the gold flecks around the pupils though his are a little more green than brown. Same shaggy, light brown hair that’s never quite tamed no matter how much gel or grit you throw at it.
