Page 9 of Shattered Hearts

“It would be nice to have,” I admit, looking over my shoulder to see if the others overheard me. “But don’t tell any of them I said that or I’ll shove chicken crap in your shoes again.”

“Fine.” I don’t miss Cole’s smirk.

Cleaning up the stalls and tossing everything in the manure pile out the back for fertilising, I head towards the cow pasture. Mum and Aspen are already putting out feed and water. Aspen giggles while patting one of the calves, who almost knocks her over. She’s almost five, but the calf is already as tall as her.

“Grandma, he’s so silly!” she squeals, holding out a bottle of milk. The calf latches on, downing the bottle.

Mum must hear my boots on the ground because she turns, smiling brightly as always when I stop beside her. “You’re already out.”

“Yeah, Aspen woke up early so I thought we would come out, and you know how much she loves the cows.”

“Sounds like someone else I know too well,” I add.

Mum chuckles, helping Aspen before she drops the bottle on the ground. “Macie is up. She’s inside making coffee before heading to the cafe. I think she’s setting up this morning, something about Laynie sleeping in.”

My jaw ticks at the mention of Laynie, but I brush it aside.

“Thanks. I just need to see her for a minute before she leaves.”

Walking to the main house, the sound of the coffee machine can be heard from the porch, so I know she’s here. Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I open it to my messages with Laynie. She left me on read, which isn’t like her usually. Granted, the last text I messaged her was just a meme, but still. Normally she would at least give it a laugh reaction, but there’s nothing this time.

Odd.

Sliding open the back door, Macie looks up from the machine, gracing me with her usual warm smile and pink cheeks. Her hair is damp and braided down her back, wearing a tight fitted tank top, blue and black flannel, jeans, and boots. She’s ready to work.

“Morning, G,” she chirps. “Did you want some coffee?”

I look at the cup of black liquid as she adds a dash of honey and a splash of milk.

I flash her a small grin. “I can make it.”

Taking a mug from the top cabinet that she can’t reach without the step stool, I make myself a coffee with frothed milk, because unlike my pretentious brother Reid, I like mine a little bitter.

“Have you spoken with Laynie?” I ask, not beating around the bush. “I messaged her yesterday, but she still hasn’t responded to me.”

Her hands still for a moment, but it’s long enough for me to notice. I watch her bring the mug to her lips and take a gulp. My eyes narrow each second she hesitates to answer.

“I mean, I saw her in the evening,” Macie admits, but there’s no waver in her voice. “I was at hers after…”

“Reid made things between you official?” I finished for her.

Glancing up at me, she nods slowly, her lips pursed together.

I have known Laynie and Macie long enough to know when something is up, and right now, Macie has a secret. I don’t know what it is, but I know she’s burying one. There are small signs I have picked up from her, like her tight mouth, the way her nostrils flare, and the elongation of her neck. Part of me wants to push to know what it is, but Macie also wouldn’t tell me, especially if she’s promised not to tell anyone. She’s like a vault that can’t be cracked.

“How was it?”

“The dating proposal?” she questions without hesitation. My mouth opens to argue, but she carries on, “It was beautiful. Reid pulled me into his house—well, our house I should say—and when he asked me—”

“No, I know, Macie. You both told me right after it happened. You know what I’m asking you.”

Her eyes roll before taking another sip of coffee. “It was fine. We just hung out at L’s place.”

My tongue drags along my lip, and I don’t know why, but something inside of me tingles uncomfortably. Macie and Laynie never just hang out. They tell me everything. Things I never ever wanted to know. Like how some girls grow hair above their lips? I could have died not knowing that information, if I’m entirely honest, but I do now after Macie went into detail about it.

“You hung out?” I repeat, sounding more sceptical than I probably meant to.

Her eyes roll a second time, and my muscles stiffen in response. “Girls can hang out. Watch movies, eat food, talk about boys and stuff. It’s what we do at girls’ night.” She plasters on a wide grin, showing off her teeth. “Hence why you’re never invited.”