Page 155 of Knot my First Rodeo

I nod. "I wasn't imagining it."

"No, you sure weren’t, Princess. I swear I checked though, and no one was there."

The front door opens a minute later, followed by Tripp's voice.

"If that pig bites me one more time, I'm turning it into bacon."

He appears in the kitchen doorway and freezes, then Clint comes in behind him carrying his phone.

I look down at the table, because I don't want to see their faces change. Tripp steps closer first, but Clint comes around the other side of the table and picks up one of the photos.

"Where'd this come from?"

I nod toward the box.

"No return address."

Briggs reaches for the shipping label, peeling it carefully from the cardboard enough to read it better.

"Postmark's from two towns over."

My stomach twists.

Two towns over, and not some faraway place.

Here.

Tripp picks up the mechanical bull photo, and his face goes strangely blank.

"Somebody was at the rodeo," he says.

Clint flips through another handful, each one making his expression harder to read.

"And here." His voice stays calm… too calm. "The ranch."

My hands finally leave the table, and I wrap my arms around myself.

"I didn't know."

It's a stupid thing to say, of course I didn't know.

"I didn't know someone was there."

Briggs turns toward me immediately. "Princess."

I shake my head once.

"I was talking to the chickens, feeding the goats, riding Captain. I was at the rodeo with you guys. I was..." My voice catches. "I was just living."

Clint sets the photos down carefully.

"You still are."

I notice one final photo still face down in the box. I reach for it before anybody can stop me.

The photo is from the drive-in. I'm asleep against Clint, in the truck bed at the drive-in, with Tripp on my other side, and Briggs’ hand wrapped around my ankle.

Bile rises in the back of my throat. On the back, written in black marker, are four words.