Wild Flower by Abbie Williams Page A

sitting cross-legged. Her silky red-gold hair had recently been cut short, falling to her jaw line. She tucked a strand behind her ear and added, “Dad’s cousins out in Montana are really fun. We used to visit them every other summer when we were kids.”
    â€œThey have horses, too,” Tina said. “Or at least, they used to.” She caught Bull on his way back to the grill, a stainless steel spatula in one hand, a six-pack of Leinie’s in the other. “Dad, do Harry and Meg still have horses?”
    â€œThey do,” Bull said. “Two or three, I believe. And they’re spitting with excitement to see you and the boy.”
    â€œI can’t wait either,” I told him.
    â€œMatty will want to show you all the places we used to stop along the way,” Elaine said. “He’s a sucker for those roadside tourist traps.”
    â€œI like them too,” I admitted. “I want to promise that we’ll take great pictures to show you, but I am so bad about that. It’s all I can do to keep up with Millie Jo.”
    Tina said, “We all have that parental guilt about not taking enough pictures. Don’t worry. Just have fun on your trip. Besides, you and Matty will have…more than plenty to do.”
    Her sister laughed heartily at her suggestive pause, and I hid my face for a moment, giggling too.
    â€œI was out at the cabin today,” Elaine said, poking me with her foot. “It’s looking so good. Dad is just so tickled that you two are making it your own. It seems meant to be, you know?”
    A shiver fluttered up my spine; maybe it was only the chill of the margarita. I said, “I know exactly what you mean.”
    â€œI knew it last winter, I had a feeling,” Tina said, winking at me. Her russet-red hair was the wildest of the three sisters, fluffed out in curls. She asked, using Elaine’s nickname, “Didn’t I, Lainey? You’re not the only ones with those.”
    â€œShe did tell me that she could see you and Matty as a couple,” Elaine admitted. Her eyes roved to her little brother, who was sitting on a bar stool near the grill, laughing about something with Bull. Mathias looked our way and blew me a kiss. Elaine added, “I haven’t ever seen him so happy,” and smiled at me. “It’s all you.”
    I felt a prickle of tears. I told his sisters, “I just love him so much.”
    â€œLate March,” Glenna reminded me, coming outside just in time to hear my comment, again provoking laughter. She slid into her seat, setting a bowl of pretzels on the tabletop. She winked at me and said, “I would absolutely love a little nephew.”
    â€œWe’re working on it!” Mathias called from the lower deck.
    Diana served dinner outside, everyone crowding around the upper-deck tables. Bull lit the citronella torches, staving off at least a few of the mosquitoes, and we ate while twilight came dancing slowly across Flickertail. The temperature was perfect, as was customary near the lake on summer evenings, no matter how thick and sticky the humidity hung in the air all day. Mathias sat to my right and I counted my blessings for the countless time since I had been welcomed into his family. My mind skipped through all of the if I hadn’t things that eventually led to us meeting – if I hadn’t gotten pregnant and stayed in Landon, if I hadn’t found the picture of Malcolm Carter, if I hadn’t taken the job at White Oaks.
    I took in the sweeping, silken beauty of the lake with the last of the sunset burning across the top of the water in reflected flames. Orange was the dominant color in the west, streaked through with violet and magenta. To the east, Flickertail was cloaked in the silver-grays of evening, the small bright lights at the end of peoples’ docks blinking on from that direction. I leaned my shoulder against Mathias, who wrapped an arm about me and