“You love him?” Mama asks.
Blake went home an hour ago. Saul, another ranch hand, has been off sick with a summer bug. It’s just Mama and me in the barn. Mother and son. Friends.
Do I blush? I think so. I shake my head and say, “We shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“Why not? You think I didn’t know about you two boys in Harlington? You think a mother doesn’t know that her son’s different and won’t be marrying Chloe Fitzgerald? You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years, Gage Wellton?” She reaches in her apron for a blue hanky and passes it to me. “Wipe your brow, son. You’re soaked.”
I take the hanky and do as I’m told.
“You’re in love,” she whispers. “I know it when I see it. That twinkle in your eye. That smile that doesn’t go away. Something happened to you in that big city. I’m not sure what, but I know that it was with Corey Cassidy. You never could stay away from that boy, could you?”
“Mama, stop,” I plead. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation.”