Page 9 of Firefly Embers

“The Cove,” he corrected. I furrowed my brows in confusion and tilted my head to one side.

“The Cove?” I asked, hoping he would clarify.

“Yeah, this little stream and clearing are called the cove. It’s where the town got its name from, or so my ma says,” he explained. “It’s halfway between my house and yours. We live on the other side, over there.”

He pointed toward the thick portion of the forest behind me. It was starting to get dark, so I was honestly thankful he had offered to walk me back to my house.

I wasn’t super comfortable walking alone in the dark; plus, I wasn’t sure I could figure out which way I needed to go.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back; maybe you can tell me the secret to skippin’ rocks,” he said, gesturing for me to walk toward where we’d heard Mama yellin’ from.

We walked side by side, chatting about little things as we went. I learned that his name was Wade Alexander Daniels and that he had a twin. His brother Max and he were fraternal twins, meaning they didn’t look alike but were born at the same time.

I also learned that he was a little older than me. He was thirteen, meaning he’d be heading off to high school next year.

For some reason, even in the short time we’d spent talking, that made me a little sad. I enjoyed talking to Wade, and I hadn’t really gotten a chance to make many friends since moving here.

Having seven younger siblings meant I was asked to help out a lot at home. It didn’t leave much room for hanging out with friends.

I told Wade all about my siblings, easily rattling off all seven of their names and ages. All the way from Isabella, the closest in age to me, to Benedicto, who was still a tiny baby. It was always a challenge for people to remember all of their names, so I normally resorted to just telling them I had three younger sisters and four younger brothers.

Wade talked animatedly about the horses they kept on their ranch, rattling off their names just as easily as I had my siblings.

He told me all about wanting to be a rodeo star when he got older, although he said he wasn’t crazy enough to compete as a bronc rider. He wanted to work with cattle and roping. I told him that sounded mean for the cows, but he assured me that it was relatively safe.

There wasn’t ever an awkward moment between us, and as the back porch of my house came into view, I started getting a little sad that we weren’t going to be able to talk much longer. I couldn’t imagine a thirteen-year-old boy really wanting to be seen hanging around with an eleven-year-old girl, outside the comfort of our little bubble in the woods.

“Uh, so, thanks for walking me back to the house. I probably would have gotten lost again had I tried.” I chuckled.

Wade was so easy to talk to, and I was glad he’d stumbled upon me in the woods, even if he hadn’t quite proven he wasn’t a killer yet.

“Ain’t no problem, Sunshine,” he drawled. A small smile curved at the corner of his mouth, and I loved the little dimple that popped up as his lips kicked up on one side.

“Oh, we’re on a nickname basis now?” I elbowed him playfully as I laughed.

“I mean, you’re kinda cool. You don’t act like all the rest of the girls I know.”

“Yeah, I bet you know a lot of girls.” I huffed.

A blind girl could have seen that he was cute. Any girl looking at him would have fallen over themselves to get a peek at those dimples and listen to that Southern twang.

He had an old Western cowboy charm about him, and I was sure he probably had a girlfriend—most cute thirteen-year-old boys did.

“I mean, I know some, but none of them want to skip rocks or talk about horses with me.” He adjusted his cowboy hat to cover his eyes, and I kicked it back up with the flick of my wrist.

“Okay, John Wayne,” I teased as he adjusted his hat back over his eyes. I could see a faint blush creep over his cheeks, and it made me smile, knowing I made him as nervous as he made me.

“Most of the girls I know are all boy crazy right now. None of them want to be just friends. They’re all about kissin’ and stuff.”

“I’ll be your friend.” My mouth fired before I even had a chance to think about what was coming out of it. He probably thought I was just as bad as those boy-crazy girls who wanted to kiss and stuff.

“I think I’d like that.” His smile was wide as he held out his hand for a handshake. “Shake on it?”

“Well, if we’re going to be friends, best friends, we should probably have a secret handshake.” I tapped my finger to my lips, thinking of a secret handshake on the fly. I didn’t want him to think I was some little kid, so it needed to be something short and easy, not something like elementary school kids do on the playground.

“Give me your hand,” I said, standing directly beside him and extending my left hand out to my side. To anyone else, it would look like I was trying to hold his hand.

Without hesitation, he put his right hand in mine, his stance rigid beside me. I felt little prickles spread throughout my fingers, but I ignored them as I squeezed my grip three times, one after the other.