Page 48 of Touch the Sky

She turns her head to look at me, and my breath catches.

The sun might be gone, but she’s still glowing.

I tell myself it’s just the helmet. Neon has that effect on people.

“Really?” she asks.

I shrug, looking down at where I’m squeezing my hands in my lap.

“If you’re already going to be up early in the mornings anyway, then sure. Doing the morning feed and putting the horses out goes way faster with two people.”

I should be saying no. It’s not her job, and I don’t even know if she’ll be around every morning anyway, but I also can’t stay this tired.

I’m sleepy enough that I’m at risk of doing something truly stupid, and stupid on a farm is dangerous. One forgotten buckle or latch can be the difference between life and death—for humans and for horses. I’m not willing to risk either.

If I have help in the mornings, I can get an extra half hour of sleep. It’s not much, but it could help me last until at least after dinner before I start crashing out.

“You don’t have to, though,” I add. “Like, I don’t want you to think that just because you rent the back from us, you have to do everything we ask. I?—”

“You didn’t.”

I pause with my mouth still hanging open. Tess’s lips twitch into a smile.

“You didn’t ask me,” she continues. “I offered. I’m happy to do it.”

Tess doesn’t ask if she can help with the horses once we’re back at the barn. After we’ve seen the guests off, she heads for the hitching rail and starts untacking without a word. I figure we’re only going to get in an argument if I tell her to leave it to me, so I settle in to work beside her, the two of us making our way through the line of horses just like we did the day she moved in.

“I feel bad for leaving Shel all alone tonight,” she says while unbuckling Nana’s bridle.

“She seems like she loves to read. She probably had the time of her life tonight,” I say. “The place to herself, a good book, nomauditquestions from Mom…”

I pause in the middle of undoing a girth, waiting for Tess to react. My stomach flips as I wonder if I took the joke too far.

The air whooshes out of my lungs when I hear a faint chuckle from around Nana’s other side.

“You’re probably right,” Tess says. “I always get a little clingy just before she has a visit with her dad. He’s got her for Thanksgiving this year.”

My chest seizes up, a squeezing feeling contracting my ribs.

“Oh, so Duke is coming here?” I ask.

“Huh?” Tess squawks, like she’s got no idea what I’m talking about.

“You know,” I urge. “Her dad. Is he coming here to get her, or are you taking her to him?”

Tess steps in front of the hitching rail so she can look at me. She’s silhouetted by one of the flood lights above the barn door, a gleaming silver outline framing her head.

“Did you just call him Duke?” she demands.

“Uh…yeah.” I squint at her. “That is his name, right? Or is it like, King? It’s something like that, right?”

A snort bursts past her lips. She presses a fist to her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

“Voyons!” I whine. “Don’t laugh at me. Just tell me what it is. I remember it was pretentious. It’s not Prince, is it?”

She snorts again, her cheeks ballooning out as her hand muffles the sound.

She looks like a chipmunk. It’s actually pretty cute.