Page 154 of Buckin' Around

Urgh . . .

How insane would it be to step out of the car into the rain and start calling for Riley at the top of my lungs?

We’re just about at the point of desperation.

First, the radio silence for months. Then the ordeal with Ives’s papers.Thenthe international flight. Followed by the wrong town, a slightly unhelpful bartender... and?—

Rain pelts down harder on the windshield.

Fuck my luck six ways to damn Sunday.

I turn the headlights to high beam and flick the fog lights on. A sign lights up a little way down the road.

Tullymoan Rd Ext.

“Shit, Ives. That’s it.”

I roll down the road and turn onto the smaller version of Tullymoan Road. It winds for a bit, and we follow it to the dead end we were expecting.

Large metal double gates sit at the entrance, shut.

I stop the car and open the gates. The driveway is mostly dirt until closer to the homestead I can barely see through the rain and now fog, barns dotted around it.

It looks just the way Riles described.

This has to be it.

Back in the car, I drive through the gates and get back out and shut them.

“Almost there, kiddo.”

I put the car in drive. The tiny little car slips as we make our way over the dirt section the rain has turned to a swampy track.

The tires start to spin, and we stop moving forward.

“Dammit.”

I kill the engine and spring from the car. Throwing Ivy’s door open, I unbuckle her and prop her up on my hip. I grab the carry-on with her things.

If I have to walk the last few miles, that’s what I’ll do.

Riley’s mom’s song flings into my head.

Humming along to the song I huff out, “I would walk . . . And I would walk five hundred . . . To see . . .”

The wind picks up, driving the cold rain into us sideways. I harry my pace, hugging Ives to my side.

She’s snuggled into my neck by the time the homestead lights are in our sights.

Thank fuck.

“Ready, baby? We came all this way.”

Ives turns, taking in the beaming light pouring from the house and barns.

The place is incredible. So much for the tiny little farm Riley spoke about. This is a legit stud operation. Brades would love to see this.

Mere feet from the homestead front door, I look up to see the fireplace smoke billowing from both ends of the house.