Rodeo Family. Mary Sullivan

snow, so much like two halves of a whole it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended.

      Zach and Rick carried on a conversation with Nadine, asking questions about how the fair was coming along—Nadine was on the Rodeo Revival committee, and the event was only a month away—while she kept her eye on the two boys grappling and giggling.

      Apparently, this was normal. Neither Zach nor Rick batted an eye. But Nadine noticed...and remembered the admonishments she’d received as a young preteen.

       Don’t slouch. Stand up straight.

       Only speak when spoken to.

       Don’t get your clothes dirty.

       Put your books away now. Cleanliness is next to godliness.

       Tidy up. Tidy up. Tidy up.

       Do better.

       Brush out those ridiculous curls.

       Be a good girl.

      And the worst of all: You’re just like your mother.

      Considering that she’d always adored her mother, Nadine hadn’t understood what her aunt meant by that. Not when she’d first arrived in town as an eleven-year-old, at least. But in time, her aunt had made certain Nadine was clear that it wasn’t a compliment.

      The loop of recriminations hadn’t stopped, even with her aunt’s death four years ago. Like a Möbius strip that never ended, Nadine had internalized her aunt’s voice.

      God, she was tired of it.

      The twins stopped fighting and ran from the room. They pounded up the stairs. Nadine meant to get her story as quickly and painlessly as possible and then stay far, far away from Zachary Brandt and his enchanting boys.