3. Life Got Complicated
LIFE GOT COMPLICATED
“Why didn’t you tell me about your sister?” Ash asked the next night at Corbin’s place.
He crossed the room and grabbed a beer from the fridge without asking, like he owned the place. Which, considering how much time he spent here, wasn’t far off. Hell, he’d helped Corbin build the house two years ago when he wasn’t working at the firehouse. He still helped Corbin out on days off.
Any extra money he could earn, he was right there swinging a hammer and busting his ass at Lancaster Construction.
Corbin rummaged through a cabinet, came up with a bag of chips, and headed for the family room. “Which sister?”
“Skye,” he said. “I don’t know anything about Brenna. I don’t even see her.”
Corbin laughed as he dropped into his chair. “You don’t normally see Skye either. But I’m guessing you ran into her at that car fire yesterday.”
“Yep.” He took a long pull from his beer and hit the recliner button, the chair easing back, his sneakers lifting with it. “That’s her. When did she move back?”
It was bad enough that he’d always had a thing for Skye when they were younger. Worse that Corbin had known. But that was before Skye had moved in with the Lancasters. After that, Ash had learned fast to keep it friendly, keep it light, pretend she was just another girl.
Easy when that was what everyone expected from him.
Light. Easy. Fun.
Corbin shrugged. “She’s been back a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?” He shot him a look. “And you’re just telling me now?”
Corbin snorted. “Wow. I thought you were just friends.”
He turned toward Corbin. His buddy was giving him that look. The one that saw more than Ash wanted him to.
“We were friends,” he said. “And friends usually know when someone comes back to town.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Corbin took a drink. “I haven’t even seen her yet, so you’re already one up on me.”
He blinked. “You haven’t?”
In Ash’s family, the second someone came back, it was a full-scale event. Everything stopped. Wagons circled. Big homemade meals and leftovers for days. Brooke Ridgeway style.
It had been a while since he’d been home for a Sunday dinner. Maybe he’d take a drive to the farm tomorrow and help himself to whatever yummy food was on the menu.
You know, brighten his Mama’s day for her youngest showing up unexpectedly.
He barely held the laugh in. His mother would see right through it for a free meal, but she’d pack up the leftovers and hand them to him with a bright smile just the same.
“You know Skye,” Corbin said. “She needs space. Push too hard and she’ll bolt again. Nobody wants that.”
Didn’t he know it.
How many times had he tried to get close back then? Make her laugh. Be there. Say the right thing.
Anything. After the fire took her family, he’d tried—and failed—every time.
Eventually, he’d learned to step back to be what he’d always been. Best friends with Corbin. Skye was just another foster kid the Lancasters had taken in. That was how he was thinking of it.
Except she’d never been just another foster kid. Not to him. Not to the Lancasters.
“So she’s staying?” he asked. “You know that much?”
“Looks like it. We’ll find out more tomorrow at the family dinner. Everyone’s off.”
Ash nodded, filing that away. He couldn’t be obvious. Couldn’t just show up, no matter how open Carrie Lancaster’s door always was. Not if this was Skye’s first real reunion with everyone.
Still… hadn’t it struck him as odd yesterday? Tate had gotten a hug. Skye barely touched anyone.
“Has Tate seen her before now?” he asked.
Corbin frowned. “I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone has except my parents once. Maybe Brenna. Why?”
“Because Tate was on scene at the fire yesterday,” he said. “And Skye hugged him. Like, really hugged him.”
“No shit.” Corbin shook his head. “That must have been the first time. Skye doesn’t hug people.”
He reached for the chips, needing something to do with his hands as Corbin flipped on the TV. He replayed the words in his head, careful not to give too much away.
“She looked good,” he said finally. “I haven’t seen her since she left after graduation.”
“She never looks bad,” Corbin said easily. “I saw her at Christmas.”
“Almost eleven months ago.”
He’d missed her when she’d come back then. Just like he did the other times she slipped into town for a day or so and then quietly slipped back out.
Not that he’d expected her to want to grab a drink and catch up. Like whatever they’d had was real enough to remember.
Old times. Mostly in his head.
But she’d recognized him yesterday.
“It’d been years before that, so we are used to it. Not everyone stays around.”
“Really? Even Keegan came back last year.”
Keegan was another foster child adopted. By middle school, Keegan was one of the family. The oldest of them. Older than Tate by one year, and boy, didn’t Corbin’s oldest brother not like having that triumph back then.
“He did. Spent his time in the army and moved on. Seems to get along with your brother Ford well enough.”
“I don’t talk to Ford much about work. Keegan’s not full time, is he?”
Ford was the sheriff of Warren County.
“No. He wants to be, but he’s working with Dad and me full-time and at the Sheriff’s Department two to three days a week.”
“I’m sure your mom is thrilled to have everyone back.”
Corbin flipped through the channels, landing on something loud and brainless. “So,” he said, “are we done with the family chat?”
“Yep,” he said, grabbing another handful of chips.
“Good. Are you still pretending you like action movies more than rom-coms, or have you finally embraced your inner sap?”
Ash snorted. That was supposed to be his secret. One that he argued about with Corbin, but obviously couldn’t convince him.
“This is coming from the guy who cried during The Lion King?”
“I didn’t cry,” Corbin shot back. “I had something in my eye.”
“Yeah. Emotions.”
Corbin tossed a chip at him. Ash caught it one-handed and smirked. This was their rhythm. Easy and familiar. Best friends since dirt bikes and knee-ripped jeans. The kind that weren’t bought that way but achieved by being rough and tumbling around. Before life got complicated.
They settled on an action flick. The new Superman movie. Drank their beer, had a plate of cheese and pepperoni to go with the chips, and laughed while putting family and work out of their minds.
But when the movie ended, he couldn’t let it go.
“You never said what Skye does. Like her job? Is she only doing some kind of reporting or something?”
Corbin let out a short laugh as if he knew Ash couldn’t let it drop.
He wasn’t doing that great a job hiding his interest.
Then he asked himself why he was bothering at this point.
“I guess she was able to keep her last job full time. My mother said that the building her company owned downsized and let most go remote.”
“What does she do?” he asked.
Corbin turned and lifted an eyebrow at him. “Some kind of writing. I’m not sure what exactly.”
“Like books?”
“No,” Corbin said. “Though I know that has always been her dream. Technical or corporate writing. I don’t know the title. She writes manuals or medical documents or something. Makes it easier for us dummies to know what is going on.”
He laughed. “Glad someone is doing it. And now she’s chasing small town car fire stories?”
“Seems it. She’s doing that freelance though. That much I got. On her own time and selling stories. Not really sure what that is all about. Not anything I thought she was interested in, but maybe I’ll find out more tomorrow.”
He had to let it go now. He’d asked enough and got more than he thought.
“I’m sure everyone is glad she’s back.”
“We’ll see if she stays,” Corbin said.
Not what he wanted to hear.
“Tate got her a conversation with the captain and fire inspector so I’m sure that made her happy.”
“That’s probably what the hug was about,” Corbin said, laughing. “He’d be all soft after that and give her anything. What’s going on there? Is it the same as the last one?”
“Seems that way now. I’m sure more will come out. That’s not official from me by any means. No reason to get everyone in an uproar that someone is going around lighting cars on fire.”
“It does make you think, but I’m glad my vehicles are in the garage at night.”
“Lucky you.” He didn’t have that luxury at his apartment complex, but he wasn’t worried either.
So far, these two car fires had been where no one would catch them, or no one would talk if they did.
It wouldn’t happen at his place where his neighbors were like hawks looking for any breadcrumb as a piece of gossip.
Which was why he was here tonight and not home where they’d be asking him if there was something to worry about.
There wasn’t.