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“Hi, Brady.”

“How’s my little window breaker this afternoon?” he asked, punctuating his sentence with a chuckle.

I groaned.

He laughed again. “Look, I know Theo’s pissed, but don’t worry. He’d never let you go. And I already talked to Red. He’s pretty pissed, too, but if you pay to replace the window and the merchandise you damaged when you hurled a brick through it, he said he’ll consider not sendin’ you up the river.”

“Does he have to apologize for using derogatory language about lesbians? And does ‘merchandise’ include the wildly offensive T-shirt hanging in his window?”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath for an apology, and yep. Plus a whole rack of the damn things. Some of the shirts got ripped when the shards of the glass from the window were embedded into the fabric, so that’s clearly your fault.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not payin’ for that stuff. Sorry, Brady. I know you’re tryin’ to help, but no way.”

“Don’t say sorry to me. It’s you you’re hurtin’ if you don’t reimburse him.”

“I’ll pay for the window, but I’m not payin’ for any anti-LGBTQ crap. Those shirts imply that the letters stand for liberty, guns, and beer!”

“I saw the shirts, Devo. And you’re right, They’re flat-out rude, but he has the right to sell ’em, and if you don’t pay the damages, you may end up owin’ an even bigger fine if this goes to court. You might even have to do some jail time.”

Everything stopped. Everything became still and quiet, like the wind had stopped running outside the kitchen window, and it even felt like the earth had stopped rotating. I thought I might throw up. “Jail?”

My mom gasped, spinning on a foot, her hands full of greasy, half deboned chicken, and speared me with a look so full of judgment, I was afraid I was about to be grounded or pummeled.

“Jail,” Brady confirmed. “We might be able to avoid it, but with the other two infractions on your record, I can’t guarantee it. Depends on the judge we get.”

I jumped off the stool, knocking it over. “I can’t go to jail, Brady! I’m already a lesbian, which means the head bitch who runs the joint won’t be able to convert me and finger me in front of the guards to prove her dominance. She’ll kill me!”

“Devona!”

“Sorry, Mom.” I winced. Had I really just said that in front of my mother?

“Well,” Brady said in my ear, “there’s an image I’ll never get outta my head. Lemme see what I can do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER SIX

ABEY

When I walked into The Red Wild Outdoors, Wisper’s local go-to for all things hunting, camping, and hiking, Red was standing in the middle of the store with a scowl on his face and a broom in his hand.

“Howdy, Red,” I said, but I saw the shirt Devo had been going on about on a rack to my left. They came in red or navy blue and had the capital letters LGBT in bright white at the top on the front side of the shirt, and underneath, it said, “Liberty, Guns, Beer, and TRUTH.”

Dammit, Red. That really was offensive, like he couldn’t stand for gay people to claim the letters LGBT. They had to stand for something redneck-ish too. It struck me as funny, though, that whoever had designed the shirt left off the Q. Couldn’t come up with a clever enough alternative?

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and tried to keep my opinion off my face. “Everything okay in here?”

Scowling at me, he griped, “Define okay.”

Red looked tired, not like he’d had a rough night’s sleep—or maybe he had—but he always gave the impression that he was tired of life. The deep, dark wrinkles around his eyes told me so, as did the way the corners of his mouth always turned down, even when he tried to smile, which didn’t happen often.

His short gray hair had thinned so much on the top of his head that I could see his scalp shining through the few hairs he still had left under the store’s bright florescent lights, but it was still plenty thick and bushy in the back.

The guy had been in Wisper his whole life, except for when he’d served in the military in his younger days. The Navy, if I remembered right. He never talked about his service though.

He was a loner by choice, but he attended a weekly poker game with some of the other old timers, and even they complained about his gruff attitude on occasion. He was divorced, and the rest of his family lived in other parts of Wyoming, some up in Montana.

“You need help boardin’ up that window till you can get it replaced?”

“No. I don’t need your help. You even know how to hold a hammer, woman?”