Graveyard Games by Sheri Leigh Read Free Book Online Page A

from
Julia . The thought was so painful she cut
it right off.
    "How many do you want? A dozen?” Tom opened
the door.
    "Just one." Dusty struggled to keep the pain
in. "How much?"
    "Just one?" He took a yellow rose out of the
container and shut the door, turning to hand it to her. "Here. Take
it, beautiful."
    "Are you sure?" Dusty took the rose,
blinking back tears as his fingers brushed hers. Their eyes met and
she saw it, in that moment—he wasn’t over her, like she’d hoped.
Nick had said she broke Tom’s heart when she turned down his
proposal just out of high school, but she’d always told herself
they were both too young. Besides, he was joining the air force,
and she couldn’t be a military wife.
    “ It’s all yours,” he said
with a nod and a small smile. “Always was.”
    “ Tom…” She swallowed,
looking down at the flower instead of up at him.
    “ Don’t worry about it.” He
stood, his big hands so out of place arranging flowers it made her
want to smile. “Okay?”
    She wanted to ask him if they were still
talking about the rose she was holding, but she knew they weren’t,
not really. “Thanks.”
    She turned to leave, understanding suddenly
a whole new meaning to the phrase “killing someone with kindness.”
Every kind gesture felt like a stab through her heart.
    * * * *
    Dusty left the Jeep parked by the front
office of the cemetery. She could have driven all the way to the
grave, but she felt like walking.
    Warm for September, she thought, lifting her
face to the gentle breeze. Her father had said it had been a warm
summer for northern Michigan, one of the driest they’d ever had.
The trees were just turning color and a few leaves decorated the
lawn. It's always so perfect, how do they do that? she wondered,
taking one of the winding paths, admiring the grass. Her father had
once said the Clinton Grove Cemetery should have been a golf
course.
    It was silent with the exception of the
leaves rustling above her head. Isolated, she thought, staring up
the incline. It was at least two miles from town and on the
outskirts, just before the county line. The entire ride along
Hubbard had been views of farms and fields.
    She stopped at the top of the sloping hill
and looked across acres of land. One great big garden of stone, she
thought, peering across the rows of graves. She looked at the tall
monument on her left, erected in honor of those who had fought in
the Civil War, and the newest one for those who had fought in Iraq.
Six or seven family mausoleums stood interspersed among trees, all
containing once-prominent Larkspur residents. Nick liked to remark
that a small town like Larkspur had a lot of big people—and a lot
of small minds.
    The hill sloped back down,
offering a panoramic view of the cemetery. To her left was Nick's
grave and there was someone standing there in the distance, head
down, back toward her. She moved down the row, realizing he was
standing at Nick's grave. She recognized the figure when she was only a
few feet away from him.
    "Chris?" She put a hand on his shoulder.
    He yelped, whirling to face her, his hand on
his chest.
    "Jesus, Dusty!" he cried, his breath ragged,
his eyes wide as he looked at her. "You scared me to death!"
    "I suppose we're in the right place for it."
She gave him a wry smile. He looked back down, his eyes resting on
the grave. They had covered the fresh dirt with sod and put the
headstone up already. It gave Dusty a start to see it there, an
announcement to the world in gray marble.
    "How're you doing?" he asked, shoving his
hands into his jean pockets.
    "Surviving, I guess.”
    "Yeah."
    They both stared at the grave, neither
knowing quite what to say. They had never been friends—more like
passing acquaintances. Nick had been their connection, but now he
was gone.
    "How'd you get here?" Dusty asked, unable to
recall seeing a car parked anywhere.
    "Oh, uh..." He hesitated and looked up,
first at her and then away, off into the distance. "Shane