“I’ll be fine. Go on. Go back to bed.” When he hovers by the door, I give him a smile. “I’m good. Really.”
“We’ll see you in the morning,” he says, finally giving in.
My gaze wanders over to the dragonfly on the barn. I’ve always loved dragonflies. I’m happy that my mom finally got the little farm she always wanted.
When I see headlights shining against the trees, headed down the path toward the hogs, I slowly inch back into the shadows. Maybe I should wake Raffe, but as soon as the person gets out of the truck, I know who it is. The man is ginormous.
It takes me a few seconds before I realize what he’s up to. He’s disposing of a body.
I hurry down the steps toward him.
“If you don’t like blood and guts, I advise you stay back,” he says, not turning to look at me.
I stop in my tracks. “How did you know I was coming?”
“I’ve got good ears. It comes from raising three teenagers.”
I’m not squeamish by any means, but I don’t know if I really want to see what they did to Benjamin.
“Is it ...?”
“It is. I waited till the middle of the night for a reason. You’re supposed to be asleep. What has you up?” He hefts the bag over the fence then climbs over, straddling the top rail. He reaches down to cut it open with his knife. The sound it makes turns my stomach.
“Is Lily mad at me?” I ask once he’s finished, hurrying after him as he walks over to the water spigot to wash his hands.
“Why would you think she’s mad at you?”
“Because I left her.”
Water droplets fly off his hands as he shakes them dry. He pulls a rag from his pocket to finish the job. “Ah, honey, she isn’t mad at you.” He looks up at the house and waves.
My gaze follows his. Jackson is leaning out the door, watching us.
His attention turns back to me. “Do you want to go for a drive? There’s a little gas station that stays open all night. We could get ourselves a cup of stale coffee and a day-old donut and talk.”
“Oh, you must be tired. I don’t want to keep you.”
He rests his hands on his hips. “Now Lily had me believing you were the kind of girl who was always up for anything.”
“She talks about me?”
“All the time.”
I look back at my son and then at Dan. “Okay, I’ll go. How can I resist your offer when you made it sound so pleasant.”
He laughs, tossing his head back, and I see why my friend fell in love with him. His laughter is rich and, most importantly, real.
“Just let me go tell Jackson.”
Dan pats me on the back. “I’ll wait in the truck for you.”
Jackson shakes his head as I approach. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Mom.”
“Oh no, it’s fine.” I scratch my head, wondering how much I should tell my son, but I’m learning honesty goes a long way. “Iknow who he dumped over the fence, and it’s a bit comforting to see that he’s no longer here.”
“This doesn’t happen often,” he says, waving a finger toward the hog pen.
“You don’t have to explain.”
