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Telling herself she’d only be there for a moment, Sophie pulled into the packed lot and parked behind a row of cars. It wouldn’t be a problem. She’d sneak in, grab her brother, and sneak right back out the way she’d come.
She stepped out of her car and, for a moment, there was silence. For those brief few seconds, Sophie felt a terrible relief. She was just losing her mind. That was all. None of this was even happening. It was an awful dream and she’d wake up and laugh in horror.
But then a voice said something over a speaker far away and applause drifted to Sophie on the wind. “The Providence Historical Trust...” she heard. As she took a step forward, there was more applause. She ignored it and walked forward down the long street.
There were the buildings that had loomed like ghosts that night, but beyond them were pure blue skies, not a cloud in sight. It seemed so wrong.
A few stragglers lingered near the saloon, reading the placard that was planted in the dirt. Sophie ducked her head and hurried past them.
The town of Providence lay on either side of a wide dirt lane. At the end of it, a line of backs greeted her. Hundreds of people. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved that she’d easily keep hidden or worried that she’d never spot her brother.
She could hear the speaker now, an older woman speaking about the legacy of the Bishop family. She didn’t seem to know much about Wyatt Bishop, though she went on and on about the man’s father.
As the woman’s voice rang out across the crowd, people began to shift restlessly. After all, none of them were here to see a member of the Historical Society speak. There was nothing juicy about that.
Sophie stood on her tiptoes and scanned the crowd. Most people were seated on white fold-out chairs. The rest of them stood around the seating area in a semicircle. At the front, next to a microphone, stood a big picture of Wyatt Bishop. She’d seen that in the paper, but never in color, and never draped with white carnations. But her eyes didn’t stay on the photo, because stretching out in a row next to it were chairs for the Bishop family. Rose sat next to Shane and his girlfriend, Merry, and Alex sat on the end.
The sun caught the side of his face and emphasized the hard angles of his cheek and jaw and nose. He’d shaved his head so there wasn’t one hint of softness about his profile now. Even his mouth looked hard.
Sophie ducked back down and said a prayer that he hadn’t seen her. That no one had seen her.
The speaker droned on, her voice rising on important words like Bishop and Jackson and “the mission of this trust.” Sophie sneaked to the left, keeping behind the backs of as many people as she could. There was no sign of her brother. Once she got toward the front row, she stood on tiptoe again and peeked past the shoulders of the people in front of her.
She had a clear view of the seated audience from here, and her brother wasn’t among them. She spotted Lauren right in the middle, but didn’t manage to catch her eye. Maybe Lauren had been wrong. Or maybe her brother had found a lick of common sense on the ground and taken his stupid butt home.
When the crowd began to applaud, Sophie shot a startled glance toward the front. The woman from the trust was stepping back and Shane Harcourt was taking her place at the microphone.
This was almost over. Shane would speak, and then his mother, and then they’d unveil the plaque or whatever it was and her brother wouldn’t cause any trouble and they’d leave.
Then she spotted him. David was standing almost exactly opposite from her, but he wasn’t looking over the crowd. His eyes were locked on Shane as he began to speak.
“My father loved this place,” Shane said, his voice so much like Alex’s that it made Sophie’s stomach hurt. “He used to bring me here on horseback, up the very trail he was on the day he died.”
Pressing a hand to her twisting stomach, she looked back and caught her brother scowling at the solemn words.
Oh, God. Sophie moved as fast as she could toward the back of the crowd. She couldn’t run. That would draw attention, but she ducked her head and walked determinedly back the way she’d come, and then around to the far side.
The crowd laughed at something Shane had said, but her ears were buzzing with panic now.
Don’t let him ruin this. Don’t let him cause a scene.
Sophie slowed as she got closer to the front. Alex was seated on this side. If she got too close to the edge of people, he might spot her.
When she’d walked as far as she dared and still couldn’t see her brother, panic grabbed her heart in a fist and squeezed. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried again.
There. She’d gone too far. He was a few feet to her left and two or three people deep in the crowd. Sophie edged closer and reached out to grab his sleeve. When she tugged, he glanced down at her hand, then back to Shane.
“This land meant a lot to him. It means a lot to my whole family,” Shane’s microphoned voice continued.
David snorted. She tugged harder.
He glanced her way and did a double take. She glared at him, and he glared back for a moment before crossing his arms and setting his shoulders. So she pinched him. Hard.
When he jerked away, the two people between them edged away with irritated glances. Sophie mouthed sorry and sidled closer to her brother.
“We need to leave,” she whispered.
He gave his head one shake and refused to look at her.
