“Really? Trayna said you bit her head off the other day. And last Sunday after church, you didn’t even look at Luke and Vivi. And then there was the barrel-racing banquet you missed. People are going to notice.”
Winona sighed. “I know . . . I want . . .” She couldn’t even put it in words, this new need of hers. Its darkness embarrassed her. She didn’t just want Luke to suddenly love her. That wasn’t enough anymore. She wanted it to hurt Vivi Ann, to make her understand—for once—how it felt to lose.
“It’s us, Win,” Aurora said quietly, reaching for her hand. “The Grey sisters. You can’t let Luke mean more than we do.”
“I know,” she said, and it was true. She did know what was right here, what she had to do. She just couldn’t do it, and the realization of that hurt as much as the rest of it. Self-control had never been her strong suit. Before, that had meant only that she ate too much and exercised too little. These days, though, her emotions were as uncontrollable as her urges. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when she found herself hoping some terrible tragedy would befall Vivi Ann (not a death or anything, but something bad enough that Luke would leave her), Winona wondered what she was capable of. “Just watch Vivi Ann, okay? You’ll see she doesn’t love Luke.”
“Ah, Win,” Aurora said. “You don’t get it. The point is, he loves her.”
“He wouldn’t if he knew the truth.”
Aurora was staring at her now; even in the pale glow of the porch light, her worry was obvious. “You wouldn’t do something stupid, would you?”
Winona laughed. It only took a little effort to pull off. “Me? I’m the smartest person you know. I never do anything stupid.”
Aurora immediately relaxed. “Thank God. You were starting to sound sort of Single White Female.”
“You know me better than that,” she said, but much later, when she was home alone, thinking back to the Outlaw, remembering how Luke had looked at Vivi Ann, Winona worried about herself, too, worried about what she would someday do.
From the dining room, Vivi Ann could see the yard, the barn, and the paddock. In the pink light of this early morning everything looked soft and a little surreal.
She told herself she was setting the table, just as she always did, that she wasn’t waiting at the window, but when Dallas came into view she recognized her own lie. Schooling her face into neutral, she opened the door. “Hey,” she said, wiping her hands on a pink rag. It was the first time she’d been here for breakfast with him and even as she did it, stayed, she knew she was making a mistake.
Be careful, Vivi Ann.
“You gonna leave the dang door open all morning?” her dad said, coming up behind her.
“Come in, Dallas. Have a seat,” she said, leading him toward the table.
Vivi Ann served breakfast and sat down between them. When Dad finished his prayer, they each began eating.
Vivi Ann had eaten breakfast in silence for most of her life. Her dad and cowboys in general were not the most talkative bunch, but this morning it grated on her nerves. She knew Dallas was watching her when she said, “The next roping is coming up. I’m going to need some flyers posted.”
“I c’n do that,” Dallas said. “Just tell me where you want them.”
She nodded. “And that leak in the loafing shed—”
“I fixed that yesterday.”
She looked at Dallas, surprised. “I didn’t write it down.”
“What makes you think I can read, anyway?”
Dad made a sound at that, a kind of snort, and kept reading his magazine.
She forced her gaze away from Dallas’s face and looked at her father. “Can you come to Sequim with me today?”
“I got a full schedule, Vivi,” Dad said, cutting his ham steak. “Six horses to shoe. Last one’s all the way out to Quilcene. You got a horse needs rescuin’?”
She nodded.
“I could help you,” Dallas said.
“No, thank you. My fiancé can help me,” she said.
“Whatever you say.”
She pushed back from the table and went to start the dishes. By the time she was finished, they were both gone and the house was empty again.