I shrugged, not sure if I believed him but knowing he wouldn’t budge. “I’m going to head down to the barn, I wanted to check on Lou Lou Lemon and see how she’s doing.”
My father rolled his eyes. He hated when the names of new horses were left up to me.
“Be careful and please don’t worry about that fence. Besides, don’t you have some work for the Mercantile?”
Laughing, I said, “What happened to it being my birthday? Now you want me to work?”
“No! I just don’t want you fussing about the fence is all.”
“I think I’m going to go for a ride. Clear my head after my night out with Heather and Patty. I might have drunk a little bit too much.”
He winked. “Been there and done that. Meet you at the store, sweetheart.” He waved bye and headed out, in pursuit of my mother.
My degree was in marketing, so I handled all of the advertising for the store. I was damn good at my job, if I did say so myself. I had brought my parents into the world of social media and the Internet, and that exposure helped to grow The Mercantile, especially as a tourist stop. People loved the old-time feel of our store. The soda fountain and my father’s famous chocolate milkshakes drew people in. There wasn’t much else in Hunt for folks to do besides camping, going to the river, and Sunday game night at The Mercantile. I smiled. That had been my idea and one that had turned out to be a huge success. Who doesn’t love playing board games at an old-fashioned fountain bar in a building that’s over a hundred-and-twenty years old?
As I headed down the path that led to the barn, I spotted Erin. She graduated a few years behind me and helped care for the horses and train a few of them, as well. She also gave riding lessons and had worked it out with my dad to use certain horses of ours on specific days. It worked out for everyone because Erin got to run her business, and our horses got great exercise.
“Morning, Kynslee!”
My hangover headache had begun to fade, but Erin’s chipper voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I liked Erin; she was always a sweet person, but even on a good day her cheeriness got to me. Today was no exception. So, when I snarled at her, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she acted like she was. Probably to piss me off.
“Well, what’s wrong with you this morning, grumpy bug? Too many candles to blow out today or something?”
“Nope,” I replied.
She gave me a look that said she didn’t buy it.
“Is this because today is your birthday, and you haven’t gotten your gift from Miles yet?”
I stared at her with an incredulous look. “What the hell? How do you know I haven’t gotten anything from him?”
She shrugged. “Heard you haven’t gotten anything at the post office, so just assumin’ that’s what got you in a sour mood.”
Good God. This town was way too small.
“Every year Miles sends you a gift, and you’re on pins and needles as you wait for him to call so you can open it. Has he even ever missed a year since he enlisted?”
“Excuse me, I am not on pins and needles, and no, he has never missed a call or sending me a gift.”
Erin’s eyes widened. “Well, just figured that no gift means he isn’t calling this time. What’s it like having a best friend who is a Navy SEAL?”
Trying not to roll my eyes, I replied, “He’s not a Navy SEAL, Erin. Why do you insist on saying that? You know he’s in the Marines, and I’m not sure if Miles Warner is able to stake the claim of being my best friend after all this time. It’s been five years since I’ve seen him, ya know.”
She chuckled. “So, what you’re telling me is you’re not upset that you haven’t gotten a package yet? I mean, you usually get it a week before your birthday and today you are in a really bad mood judging by the look on your face and the alcohol you consumed last night.”
Jesus, this damn town. No one could even cross the road the wrong way without it being the hot topic of conversation down at The Mercantile.
Yes, I was upset. Would I admit it to her or even to myself?
Never!
“Erin, you really need a life if you have the time to keep up with mine so carefully.”
She giggled. “So…the gift?”
I shrugged. “He’s probably stuck in some remote forest or desert or he’s been shot and is bleeding to death and doesn’t care that the last time I saw him was five years ago. I’m sure it’s a really simple explanation and one I don’t have time to dwell on…and neither should you.”