Farrah cursed her luck as she drove back into town. How could she have predicted that Darren Buttars of all people would be at the cemetery on a Wednesday morning? Why in the world was he even there?
Then she’d seen his brother and sister-in-law, and everything had made sense. How she’d told him not to look up Gary also made total sense.
Darren asking about Bolt, her cat which he didn’t even like, made no sense.
And the way she’d practically begged him not to do something that would cause her to stop speaking to him made zero sense.
She hadn’t spoken to him in two months.
“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to,” she muttered to herself as she turned onto Main Street and aimed her car toward Center.
But she had a line, and Darren had crossed it. More than once. He’d asked her about riding he
