Page 2

I should want Ben to win. He wouldn’t make me remember arriving at a cabin with my heart in my hands. He wouldn’t know how foolish I felt leaving it.

“Are you okay continuing?” Earl leans toward me, dropping his voice so only I can hear.

Earl and his wife are friends with my parents—of course he knows what happened between Silas and me.

Silas lowers his paddle and waits. I could ask Earl to stop. Silas watches me, not the bidding board, and for once he leaves the decision in my hands. The library needs a roof, but that isn’t the only reason I remain on the stage. I need to find out whether I can spend one weekend with him without becoming the girl who waited for him to love her.

“Yes.” I lift my chin and make sure Silas hears the rest. “But he should know I don’t intend to make this easy.”

Silas’s expression shifts between uncertainty and hope. I remember him holding a flashlight for me while I worked under my sewing table, listening to plans I never shared with anyone else. Then I remember how he rejected me, and I hang on to the anger that he deserves.

How could I have been so foolish as to mistake his kindness for love? Just because our parents were friends and his mom offered me the use of her sewing machine, which happened to be in Silas's workshop, didn’t mean Silas wanted me there.

“A thousand,” Ben says, pulling me back to the present.

“Fifteen hundred.” Silas doesn’t hesitate.

Ben gives me a helpless shrug, and I smile back as his uncle lowers the paddle for him. He has already offered more than I expected.

“Going once!” Earl spreads a hand toward the crowd.

“Two thousand.” Silas looks from the donation board to me.

Earl pauses. “You’re already winning, son.” He lowers the gavel.

“Roof still leaks.” Silas shifts his weight, as if that is explanation enough.

A laugh goes through the crowd, and my chest tightens in a way I wish it wouldn’t. He’s always been like this—fixing things and grumbling if anyone made a fuss. I used to love that about him—unfortunately, I still do.

“Sold!” Earl brings down his gavel. “Somebody take a photograph. Silas Settles has agreed to a social engagement.”

Silas looks like he'd rather repair the roof in a thunderstorm, but he comes toward the steps. Mae meets me at the railing. “One text.” She catches my elbow. “I’ll invent a plumbing emergency.”

“At my house?”

“Anybody’s.” She glances past me. “I’m adaptable.”

Silas stops below us and clears the steps. “Anissa.” The way he says my name makes my heart race. “Will you talk to me?”

I step too quickly. My heel slips, and he catches my wrist, his other hand warm at my waist. I look up, suddenly close enough to see the gold at the edge of his pupils. Neither of us moves until I remember how to stand.

“You paid two thousand dollars for the opportunity.” I step away before I sink deeper into his embrace. “I hope you brought something worth saying.”

two

Silas

Ilet go as soon as she’s steady, though my hand still remembers her waist. Three years of missing her didn’t prepare me for touching her again. She walks past me, chin up, and I can see how hard she’s working to look calm.

If I weren’t a selfish son of a bitch, I’d drop it and let her go. But I already made that mistake once—I won't do it again—not in this lifetime or the next.

“You don’t owe me the weekend.” I clench my hands at my sides. “The donation stays whether you come with me or not.”

“Then why bid?” She crosses her arms and watches my face.

I swallow. “I’m better at building things than finding a graceful way to speak.”

“You could have called.”