Chapter 66

• They never did figure out how the porch swing squeaked so soft you could almost mistake it for the creek hummin’ down the hill. But Beau liked it that way — liked the hush stitched in every creak, every chain link holdin’ tight the weight of what he’d built.
• Sadie lay curled half across his chest — one hand braced on Jesse’s tiny back where he slept warm, nose tucked soft into the dip of her collarbone. Huckleberry huffed out a dog-dream on the porch boards, tail flickin’ every now and then like he was chasin’ rabbits in that big wild yard Beau still hadn’t fenced all the way in. Didn’t matter, Beau thought. Huck knew where home was. They all did.
• Dusk rolled off the fence line slow, driftin’ soft over fresh paint and a swing chain that’d hold for decades if Beau had any say about it. Fireflies blinked lazy along the porch rail, slow lanterns swingin’ with the hush.