Running her fingers lightly over the worn boards, Juniper scanned the small building for a remnant of what had been. A crate was too big, the penny she saw glinting in the dirt too ordinary. She wanted something distinctly Murphy. A token, a talisman. Juniper found it hanging on a rusty nail beside the farthest window. Tags, she realized when she reached for the dull glint. Two of them on a wire loop; an orange one that said RABIES VACC with a five-digit number, and a second that read BAXTER. Juniper realized that Cal or Beth must have hung them here as a reminder after he died.
Pocketing the tags was a bittersweet feeling, but Juniper headed toward the door with a renewed sense of purpose.
She didn’t make it far.
The clouds were low and hushed, blanketing the sky and making it seem as if Juniper could hear every snowflake as it struck the earth. So when a vehicle came down the road, it was a racket she couldn’t ignore. Juniper froze, praying the truck would speed on by, but she could hear it slowing even as her heart began to race. Her breath exploded in quick white puffs that evaporated in the cold air. There was no reason to think that the truck would pull onto the Murphys’ old property. It had been abandoned for years. And yet, her car was a beacon against all that fresh snow, an aberration that would be noticeable not just because of its presence, but because the engine was still running and it was emitting a steady plume of gray smoke.
The truck turned. Juniper’s car was parked maybe twenty yards from the road, directly across from where she was hiding in the chicken coop turned roadside stand. It was foolish to try and hide—she was trapped now—but she took a step deeper into the shadows of the low building anyway. Through the bank of windows she watched a silver pickup pull up behind her car. A moment later the door opened.
“Hello?”
It was a man in a heavy work jacket and jeans, his features obscured by an arm that he threw up to shield his face from the onslaught of snow. “Who’s there?” he called, but Juniper couldn’t tell if he was angry or merely curious.
What choice did she have? Juniper swallowed a deep breath and stepped into the rectangle of wan light spilling through the doorframe.
“Hi,” she said, raising a hand sheepishly. “Sorry, I was just—”
“June.”
When he lowered his arm, Juniper’s breath caught in her throat.
Sullivan. She hadn’t seen him since their last night together. Juniper had been a teenager; she had believed she was in love. The man she had fallen for all those years ago existed only in the ethereal fog of her memories. Seeing him now, here…
“What are you doing here?” Juniper reached for the counter beside her and held on.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Her mind whirled through a dozen different responses, but in the end Sullivan spoke first.
“I own this property.”
“What?”
“Bought it on foreclosure last year.”
Juniper wasn’t sure what to make of this news. Sullivan was the last person she thought would ever buy the old Murphy place. She couldn’t decide if his purchase made him seem guilty or if it cemented his innocence. Either way, it didn’t matter. Knowing that the Tates had finally swallowed up the property—the Murphys’ former pride and joy acquired by their sworn enemies—filled her with a sharp, buzzing energy.
“I guess the Tates own most of the county now,” Juniper said, a drop of malice in her voice.
Something flashed in his eyes, but the look passed quickly. In many ways, Sullivan was the same young man she had known all those years ago. Same sandy hair, same bright green eyes flecked with gold. But middle age had broadened his shoulders, thickened his neck. His face bore fine lines that he wore like badges of honor. Sullivan was just as handsome and even more intimidating than he had been at twenty-one. Juniper gripped the counter harder and felt a splinter prick the pad of her thumb.
“What are you doing here?” Sullivan crossed over the threshold, causing Juniper to shuffle back. He leaned against the doorframe, blocking her exit. There was a snowflake glinting in his eyelash, and as she watched, it melted and disappeared.
“I’m helping Cora with the library. She’s—”
“I heard. What are you doing here.” He patted the counter beside her fingers and her breath caught at his proximity.
“Taking a trip down memory lane,” Juniper managed.
“Strange place to reminisce. Strange time, too. You know we’re in the middle of a blizzard, right?”
Juniper glanced over his shoulder. The snow was still coming down hard, but it wasn’t a blizzard. Not by a long shot. At least, not yet. She ignored his question and asked, “Do you always drive around your land in the middle of a snowstorm?”