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Chapter 61

“Pitchforks. Cats. Snakes. Buckets. All the sorts of things you don’t want to land on when you jump into a haymow.”

“Snakes?”

“Honestly, Vin, haven’t you ever been outside before?”

“You didn’t say anything about snakes.”

“Pitchforks are worse, I promise.”

“It’s a wonder you survived to get to college.”

“Shall I come up and push?” Beau stared at him, hands on his hips. His hair, curly and golden, was the same color as the motes of chaff that fluttered around him, twinkling in the sunlight that streamed through the small open window. The interior of the barn itself was rich molasses dark, filled with tools and hay and strange smells. A black and white barn cat gifted Vin with a condescending sneer and went back to daintily licking her paws clean.

“You can come on up at any time.” Vin eyed the rope distastefully. “I really don’t fancy a broken leg. You really did this as a kid?”

“Hell’s bells, you coward, just swing!”