Chapter 7: Thought We Had Terms

I woke up in my own bed with hay in my hair and Jesse's arm across my ribs.

For about three seconds I forgot everything.

Then I remembered, and I lay there looking at the ceiling.

He was awake.

I could tell by his breathing.

"I should go," he said into my shoulder.

"You should."

He didn't move.

I got up, pulled on his flannel shirt, and went to start the coffee.

He came into the kitchen a few minutes later in his jeans and stopped in the doorway.

He looked at the table, at the stove, at me.

"Thought we had terms," he said.

It came out soft, and not at all unkind.

It still made my face go hot.

"I broke them," I said.

"You did."

"You went along."

"I did." He nearly smiled. "I'm not complaining."

I put the mug down in front of him harder than I meant to.

"You said you never touched her."

"I didn't."

"Then whose is she?"

His smile went away.

"Abby."

"You said the words out loud in my barn, Jesse. You can say the rest."

"I can't say the rest yet."

"Then say when."

"After Sunday."

"What is Sunday?"

"Dad's having everybody to the house," he said. "Mom's idea. Family dinner, like we used to."

He picked up the coffee and looked into it.

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