She Left Me You

SHE LEFT ME YOU LULU LUCILLE Copyright © 2023 by Lulu Lucille All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover design: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 1 That warmth of whiskey going down my throat couldn’t be replicated. Nothing in the world could feel like that. But after maybe a little too much, my grip on the Jack Daniel’s bottle faded, and it slipped from my fingers and onto the bed of hay I’d found myself on. I glanced up and stared at chipped, faded wood inside a barn that looked like it could fall down at any moment. Behind me, restless horses huffed, upset about the rain. I didn’t understand the horses because there was nowhere else I wanted to be but right there, trapped inside that wooden sanctuary. I fished the bottle of Jack from the hay and downed another swig. In my other hand, I gripped a phone with a paused video on the screen. I wasn’t sure I could make it through the whole thing. With her long black hair that mirrored our mother’s, Harper always kept with tradition and braided it in the most intricate of patterns. I never was one for tribal traditions. I pressed Play. “Hey there, Sadie.” Harper sported the brightest smile God ever created. “Wish you were here, kid.” Hints of our small-town accent barely slipped through. “Found this amazing spot for fish and fries.” “Chips, love,” another voice said in a London accent. The video panned to a woman with lengthy golden locks curled above her sapphire eyes. The woman leaned against Harper’s shoulder and smiled at the camera. “Who is this?” she asked. “It’s a video for my sister back home, Poppy. Hell, kid, can’t you take a break from whatever Ma and Pa have you doin’ round the ranch?” “Your words are slipping, Harper.” Poppy’s lips planted on Harper’s cheek. “Am I going to have to teach you again?” “She’s embarrassed because I’m slaughterin’ her language or somethin’.” Harper grinned at the camera. “She hates it when I say the word ‘y’all.’” “That’s not a word.” “Back where I’m from, it is.” I paused the video and tried to ignore my tears, so eager to escape, my breath faltering with every inhalation. I dropped both the phone and the bottle of Jack when water streamed onto my face from above. A flurry of thoughts whipped through my head. I didn’t want to keep watching that video, anyway, tormenting myself with the memories. A sigh escaped me as I stared at the roof of the barn. Droplets of rain invaded through several cracks in the wood. I would undoubtedly have to fix the leak. I shifted to my side, bored with the roof but fascinated with the partially open barn door. Through the gap, the small downpour was clear. All across our fields, the rain left a damp haze. Sometimes, the fresh smell invaded the barn and extinguished the smells of the horses. Once more, I found myself desperate. I sought the whiskey and found refuge in it, the devil’s water. I took another swig, and some of the liquid raced down my chin. Harper’s smile invaded my mind, her voice repeating all the right words. The hint of her accent, the one that faded more in each new video she sent, reminded the world that despite the distance, she had family across that ocean that loved her. My phone chirped, the sound echoing throughout the entire barn. Guess I forgot to shut that off. I leaned to the left. Hay kissed my cheek as I stretched and flirted with the elusive phone. After a few attempts, I grasped it. Another ring echoed throughout the barn. My mother’s name occupied the screen, but I hesitated. Finally, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mama,” I whispered. “You almost done with them horses?” “Almost.” “Well, we need to get goin’ soon. You still need to get dressed and…” “I know, Mama, I know…” “She’d want…” My mother grew silent. “Just come back to the house soon, okay, Sadie?” “I’ll get goin’.” “You ain’t drunk, are ya?” I sat up from the hay. “I ain’t drunk.” Not yet, at least. “Good, your sister wouldn’t want you to be. See ya soon, baby girl.” The line went silent, and the phone slipped from my fingers. That courage I found, the ounce of strength that allowed me to lean up, disappeared. I fell back into the bed of hay and again stared at the top of the barn, becoming lost in a typhoon of memories. Two little girls, whirling around, locked hands, getting lost in the sunset over the hill. Harper’s smile, the confidence, the wanderlust that never left her eyes. I envied it all. I pushed off the hay, a few strands crumpled within my fingers. The almost-empty bottle of booze remained. I was too lazy to gather my evidence. I took sluggish steps along dirty floorboards, and mud and grime coated my once-black boots. Outside, the drizzle of rain coated my hair, and I hadn’t bothered to wear my hat. Pretty sure I left that back at the house. Ahead of me was a rusted Silverado truck, its chipped paint reminding me that it was a hand-me-down. The fierce Harper Morgan used to chase down damn near every girl in town in that thing. The entire world knew about it. Inside the truck, I sank into worn-out seats. A small hole had formed on the bottom cushion, but I didn’t mind it much. I gripped the gear shift and