Borrowing Trouble by Kade Boehme
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First, I gotta thank Heidi for believing in me, even when I write
stories that are totally not my norm.
I must thank, above all, Wendy, Meredith, Felice—the Boozy Brunch
Crew—and Nik for always being there to talk me off the ledge.
Many times my neuroses would have stopped a book from getting
titled, much less written without you angels to keep me sane.
Mon, because I would never have tried this, never have gone
for it and lived my dream without you. That first year
was rough as hell and you were a rock.
And of course, none of this would matter without my absolutely
amazing friends/family, my readers. This is all for you, babes.
DEDICATION
To the people who grew up with me HERE, where this book is based.
It always felt like a land time forgot, and in so many ways it has.
But I’m humbled and amazed at the few of you who still live there
who’ve reached out to me as an adult. This one is to us, to our
childhoods, to dirt roads and hayrides and lightning bug dreams.
To Montgomery County and the people who prove it’s not
the worst place to come from.
Chapter 1
Landon kicked his work boots on the doorstop before walking into the trailer that contained his father’s office. His father was obsessive about muddy floors, a bit too obsessive for a man whose business was a saw mill. The whole mill was dirt and wood chips. Landon couldn’t even walk across the driveway of Petty & Green Mills without tracking mud into his own truck and house every afternoon.
Once he was satisfied that his boots were as free of mud as they could get, he wandered in to where their office assistant, Ms. Lynne, sat on the phone bitching about something concerning insurance. As Landon handed over his trip report, he smiled fondly at the older woman who was rolling her eyes and making the blah, blah, blah hand gesture toward the phone. He felt for whoever was trying to tangle with Ms. Lynne, since she’d been doing this job for damn near twenty years. She was all of five-foot-five and constantly made up, her hair teased high, but one shouldn’t be fooled by her southern grandma fa?ade. She was all bulldog.
Landon walked to where they kept the coffee pot and poured himself a cup, trying to fend off the cold. “Landon,” Ms. Lynne called out. He turned back to her. She held her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and continued, “Your Daddy wants you to pop in the office before you head out on your next load.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed with a nod and headed to his dad’s office, sipping his coffee. He was surprised his dad was even in his office. The old man was usually out supervising the hell out of everyone. His dad was a strict boss, but he was fair, and for their little county in Mississippi, he paid well.
The office door stood open, so Landon stuck his head in and knocked on the door frame. “Knock-knock. Ms. Lynne said you needed to see me.”