Page 101 of Quiver

“We’ve always kept each other’s secrets.”

“Except at Christmas when you told Ava I had an amorphous relationship with desire.”

She grimaced. “I mean, to be fair, I thought she of all people should’ve known, but I’m glad she didn’t, and I’m sorry I said it. I’m sorry about a lot of things I said then.”

“I know.” Fletcher didn’t seem bothered or impressed by the admission, simply taking it at face value, and she wondered if she’d react the same way to hearing her apology for things she hadn’t said.

Couldn’t say? Wouldn’t say? Did it matter? Maybe there was mercy in her inadequacies. She had to at least consider the possibility that saying the words may hurt more than not saying them if they didn’t change a damn thing for either of them in the long term.

They were working up against a deadline, and as much as she’d relished every break from reality over the last few days, nothing they’d done had altered their reality or the moment of reckoning barreling toward them both.

The thought must’ve caused her muscles to tighten up, because Winston reacted to some signal she hadn’t intended to give and broke into a trot as they turned toward home.

They shouldn’t run with parts of the path still covered with a light layer of snow, but instead of chastising, Fletcher matched her pace, another move that inspired more introspection than she cared to summon. She was still working to hold off any deeper meaning as they rounded the house to find a gray truck in the driveway.

Fletcher pulled Gabrielle up quickly, and this time Kylie followed her lead.

“Who is it?” she asked, registering the first scowl she’d seen on those dark features in days.

“Ryder.”

Her chest tightened at the name of Fletcher’s older brother. It wasn’t that they hadn’t gotten along. They always had, which made it even shittier when Kylie hadn’t said goodbye or made any effort to stay in touch. And, given the reaction she’d heard out of Fletcher’s mom at the mere mention of her name on the phone, she suspected no one in the Bouchard family considered themselves big Kye Manchester fans.

“It’s fine,” Fletcher said flatly, swinging off Gabrielle to open the barn door and let them both inside.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, they landed not on the man she’d once considered family, but on a boy who looked remarkably like him.

“Hi, Hunter.” Fletcher’s expression softened. “Did you drive over here yourself?”

The kid laughed. “No. Dad won’t let me.”

“Seems unfair.” Fletcher tousled his hair before she began to take off Gabrielle’s saddle. “I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling a truck. I mean, I’ve seen you drive the sled Ava and I got you.”

“The one he ran into a snowbank and flipped into the street at the Legion Hall last week?” Ryder called as he stepped in from the arena.

“Did you get any road rash?” Fletcher kept addressing her nephew.

“A little bit.” The kid seemed more proud than chagrined, and Fletcher laughed.

“Attaboy.”

“Since you kept up your tradition of giving my son age-inappropriate Christmas presents, we came over to see if you had any lesson groups starting soon.”

Fletcher raised her eyebrows, and Kylie got the sense the question surprised her.

“Seriously?”

Ryder rolled his eyes, steadfastly ignoring Kylie. “You gave my son a weapon. You should be the one burdened with the responsibility of teaching him to use it properly.”

“It’s a tool,” Fletcher said to him, then turned to Hunter. “A tool.”

“I know.” He nodded seriously. “So can I come to class this Saturday?”

“Not this Saturday. That group’s doing a rehearsal for a showcase day next week.”

“I know. All my friends are talking about it.” He finally shot Kylie a shy glance. “’Cause there’s a movie star.”

She smiled down at him. “You can call me Kylie.”