He nodded, not taking his eyes from me. "All those years ago, sometimes, you know, a basket of rhubarb, or a couple tins of beans or something would show up on my front porch. I still don't know exactly who it was, but . . . I think, I think they probably knew I was lying about my mama still living with me. I think they were doing for me what they could. It kept me alive some months."
I was silent for a second, absorbing his words. "The rhubarb, that was Buster," I said quietly.
He nodded, sawing his teeth along his bottom lip in a way that left it plumped and reddened when he finally let it go. I blinked, tearing my eyes away, back up to his.
Who are you now, Kyland? I don't know you anymore and why does that hurt me so much?
"Is that why you gave them the idea of the lavender?" I asked.
His eyes widened. "Who told you about that?"
"Buster."
He nodded, his lips coming together. "I, yeah. I read about it and thought maybe I could give back. You know, to those who were interested in the idea. Really, it's nothing."
"Sounds like it's working out pretty well for several families."
A glint of pride came into his eyes. "Yeah."
"Ky?"
"Yeah?"
"It's something. It's a whole lot of something."
I heard him exhale beside me. We were quiet for a second before Kyland finally met my eyes again and said very softly, "I'm so sorry, Tenleigh."
I stilled. "For what?"
He ran his hand through his hair and looked up at the sky. "For treating you the way I did the other day and then at Al's." He shook his head. "You didn't deserve it. I just . . . God, Tenleigh, when you got out of here, I thought . . . I thought you'd finally escaped this place. To see you come back . . . and to see that you . . . well, it made me crazy. It made me . . . " he let out a laugh that sounded anything but amused, "crazy." He paused. "Crazy and mean. I'm sorry."
I studied him for a minute. "I know you wanted to get out of here, Kyland. I know better than anyone. I guess I can understand you being upset to see me do something you wouldn't have done if you had won that scholarship. But you lost the right to pass judgment on my choices." Are you going to tell me the truth now? Tell me why you lied to me? Explain to me why you broke my heart? Why you were able to send me away?
"I know. God, Tenleigh, I know." He rubbed his palms on his jean-clad thighs and released a large, shaky breath.
I looked up to the sky. "I'm sorry, too. I acted immature and crazy. I had taken a couple shots and . . . I've always been an angry drinker." I laughed softly, but then went serious. "I acted like my mama used to act."
"Oh, shit, Tenleigh." His voice hitched. "No. You didn't. It was the two of us. Me more than you. I was wrong. When I saw you there, working at Al's again after . . . I lost it."
I nodded sadly, running my hands along my thighs.
"Anyway," he said, "no one's talking about us. Everyone's talking about Gable Clancy and his—"
"Mail-order bride," I said along with him. "Yeah, I heard."
His lip quirked up in a small smile and my eyes lingered on his mouth before I looked away.
A small silence ensued and Kyland filled it. "Of course, Gable isn't sure if she was really trying to kill him or if the car got out of her control on account of her prosthetic leg."
A laugh bubbled up my throat. "What?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I work with him. I know more about mail-order brides with prosthetic legs than I ever wanted to know."
I looked over at his amused expression and intended to smile back, but instead, I felt a wave of nostalgia so large I thought I would drown in it. A tear escaped my eye and I swiped at it, looking down at my finger in surprise. I hadn't shed a tear in so long. Kyland looked at me, his expression suddenly raw and pained. I shook my head as if I could deny the singular emotion that was slamming into my chest in that moment: grief. Grief for the loss of him, although he was sitting right next to me. All these years, I had been so focused on the anger, in just surviving, moving forward, that I hadn't allowed myself to remember the sweetness. But, oh God, how I'd missed him. Despite my heartbreak, despite my anger, I'd missed him so desperately. Besides Marlo, he had been my everything.
He scooted closer, keeping eye contact, asking silently if I was okay with him moving toward me. I was. And I shouldn't be. I should tell him to move away. I should tell him I didn't even want to breathe the same air as him. But I didn't. I looked him in the eye and I didn't move away. Very, very slowly, he put his arms around me as if I was a skittish animal who might run at any moment. He pulled me into his broad chest. I sucked back a sob and clutched at his smoky T-shirt. He held me as I finally cried the tears I'd held at bay for so very, very long, and I let him.
We sat there for what seemed like forever, his strong arms around me, his heart beating steadily under my ear. After a little bit my tears dried and I tilted my head up and our eyes met. "Tenleigh," he whispered, his voice as smoky as the rest of him, filled with need.
There were so many things we needed to say to each other, so many things I wanted him to explain to me. So many emotions were swirling in the air around us, so many unanswered questions. But in that moment, it seemed like all that could wait. And so when his lips touched mine, I let out a sound of encouragement, and pressed myself into him. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe . . . probably. His tongue entered my mouth tentatively and he let out a groan that sounded half tortured and half blissful. I met his tongue with my own and reached up around his neck to weave my fingers into his short hair. He put his hands gently on either side of my face and tilted my head. The kiss went deeper. Just like the fire we had watched earlier, my whole body felt alight with flames, my flesh burning with need. But fire destroyed. Fire left you devastated and singed beyond recognition. I pulled away, Kyland letting out a small sound of loss. I stared at him, his lips red and wet. He was gazing at me like a starving man looking at a buffet of delicacies. I blinked and looked to the side, trying to control my ragged breathing. I wanted him. Hadn't I always wanted him? Why did everything about us seem so simple and yet so complicated at the same time?
"Kyland, I . . ." I said softly.
"I know," he answered. And I believed that he did even if I didn't entirely.
"You should go home and shower. And I should . . . I have a big day tomorrow."
He was silent for a second and then he nodded. "What you're doing with the school, it's really, well, it's amazing."
"You know what I'm doing?"
He nodded. "I asked about it in town."
"Oh."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I better get going, let you go to sleep."
I nodded. "Okay."
He paused. "Okay."
He stood up. "Do you need anything before I go?"
I shook my head, remembering the time he'd come here unable to ask me to go back to his house to sleep in his bed. Was Kyland still lonely? Something told me he was. But I couldn't offer him anything now. I felt both too empty and too filled with a lingering ache. I had once wanted to give him everything, lay my life and my heart at his feet, but right now, I just couldn't.
"Okay, then, good night."
"Good night." He walked away from me and I watched him retreat. After a minute I stood up and went back inside. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night. Sleep was elusive, visions of Kyland and me as we once had been, skating through my mind, snippets of conversations filling my head, the memory of the feel of his rough hand moving across my skin invading my senses. I finally fell into fitful dreams, just as the first light of dawn appeared in the trailer windows.