Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Dakota
Arizona and I climb in my old Ford truck, waving at Cooper and Parker who are sitting in the rocking chairs on the front porch like two old timers in a John Wayne western film.
“So, I’m thinking if we hit the Smart Mart we can get everything in one swoop.”
“What’s the Smart Mart?” She asks, clipping her seat belt.
I glance down at her outfit. She’s wearing jeans that are two sizes too big and a Justin Bieber t-shirt. She looks like she waltzed right out of the nineties if you include the elastic purple necklace around her throat.
“It’s basically the knock off Wal-Mart. But it’s got everything from groceries to clothes, so it’s a one stop shop.”
“Ok.” She shrugs. “Don’t feel like you need to butter me up with stuff. I want to be here, and I will tell that social lady that to her face.”
I laugh, pulling out of the automatic gates. “I bet you will.”
Silence engulfs us, but instead of embracing it, I crank the radio to some Tanya Tucker, roll down the windows, and try to make back roading on a warm Tuesday morning be a balm to both of our souls.
“Are you sure?” I ask, holding up the pink and purple sweater.
“It looks like a Care Bear threw up.” Arizona scrunches her nose in distain. “I’m not really a pink kind of girl,” she adds.
Noted.
“Ok.” I hang it back on the rack. “Let’s move on to the supplies.”
I push the cart forward, happy that she at least picked out four new pairs of pants, six new shirts, and two new pairs of shoes. You would have thought it was Christmas morning the way she’d been smiling. Over basic necessities like clothing.
Another reason I’m internally cursing Bea Sterling at the moment.
We round the corner to the school supplies aisle, and she immediately beelines it for the sketch pads.
I let her pilfer, while I grab a few basics like number two pencils, erasers, some glue, a small pair of scissors, and some spiral notebooks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her trace the edge of a book before she walks back over to me.
“Grab it,” I say before placing a pencil box in the basket.
A blue one. Not pink.
“It’s ok.” She waves a hand. “It’s pricey.”
I roll my eyes, then march over to the shelf and grab two.
Her jaw hangs open when I motion to the wall of pencils and rulers. “What do you like to sketch with?”
“I…”
I move closer, my hand landing on her shoulder.
“Ari, if there’s one thing I understand about being your age, it’s having an outlet.
The one that lets you get your emotions and feelings out in your own way.
If this.” I hold up the two sketch pads.
“Is it, then I will make sure you always have one on hand.”
Her eyes hold mine for a moment before she moves them to the wall of pencils. “Those look really nice.”
Her voice is quiet. Almost reserved, which judging from the entire week and a half that I’ve known her, isn’t her normal.
“Then let’s try them.” I snatch up the pencils then aim my cart toward the front.
We almost make it to the checkout when I hear my name.
“Hey, Dakota!”
I turn to see Dean Vickerson striding in our direction.
I would consider Dean handsome. He’s tall, fit, and has a neatly trimmed dark beard that matches his dark hair.
We’ve had drinks, danced, and worked together on some great horses, but I’ve never accepted his advances or join in when he blatantly flirts.
I don’t go there with clients, and there’s the whole situation of me being hopelessly in love with my best friend.
“Hey, Dean."
“Hadn’t seen you in a few days. Figure you’d be at the Mayson Jar at some point. Let me spin you around the dance floor a time or two.”
It’s evident he hasn’t heard the news.
“I’ve been a little busy lately.” I place my hand on Arizona’s shoulder, who is currently giving Dean the death stare.
“This is my sister, Arizona.”
He holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I see beautiful women must run in the family.”
I inwardly cringe as she shakes his hand.
“Oblivion must run in yours,” she says, smiling.
He frowns, trying to make sense of her comment.
“Well, we better get going. I’ll be at the arena later this week,” I say, moving toward the checkout.
“Ok. See you then.” He winks.
Ari rolls her eyes, and I ignore her glances as we pile the items onto the counter.
It doesn’t take long to check out, and only a few shoppers give us pointed looks of disgust before we manage to get everything to the truck. When I load the last bag, I feel Ari’s hand on my back.
“Dakota.”
I shut the back door before spinning around. “Yeah?”
Without warning, she launches herself at me, her arms wrapping around my torso. The hug makes my eyes prick with tears, but I push them back, and wrap my arms around her frame, hugging my sister for the first time.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You are always welcome,” I whisper back.
A few seconds pass, then she pulls away, turning to climb in the front seat.
She pauses, before peering back at me. “Who was that man?”
I laugh. “He’s a client.”
“He wants to date you.”
“Well, he’s out of luck,” I say. “I’m off the market."
“Thank God,” she mumbles before she slips in the seat and closes the door.
I can barely manage to keep the smile off of my face as I round the back end of the truck.
When I grip the handle, a piece of paper tucked inside my windshield wiper catches my attention.
It’s probably the pizza coupons the local arcade uses to draw in people on buffet nights.
I press my boot on the running board and reach over to pluck it from the windshield.
Only when I unfold the flimsy white paper, it’s not a coupon.
It’s four words that make my blood run cold.
You deserve what’s coming.