Sovereign Ground (Breaking Bonds) by Hilarey Johnson Read Free Book Online

about how the
Washoe Valley was formed. She doesn’t mention the Great Spirit again. I rest in
the chair next to her and close my eyes.
    At the sound of Hayden’s truck I realize I’ve been
sleeping. Raenah didn’t seem to notice. Thom is the one driving, and when
Hayden hops out he balances a pink cardboard box. Thom looks guilty. I yawn,
stretch and pat Raenah’s shoulder.
    “Come back again soon.”
    “I will, Raenah.”
    Thom walks inside the trailer. Hayden waits for me
with a goofy grin.
    “What’s in the box?” It looks like it came from a
bakery.
    “It’s a surprise.”
    We tease back and forth. Several times, he starts
to open it and makes a face. I try to catch him, but he is fast.
    “Apparently, somebody has a birthday this week.”
He isn’t even winded.
    “You bought me a cake?” My arms flop to my side.
I’m glad I’m not holding the box. It would be too heavy—the gift, too much.
    “I like cake. I figured you could eat it twice in
one week so you could eat it with me.”
    He assumes too much. I haven’t had cake on my
birthday since I was ten.
    Hayden sticks out his elbow, and I slide my hand
into the crook of his arm. I wrap my fingers around the lump of his bicep. As
we walk to the trailer, Raenah nods and smiles at me. I can’t help but smile
back since his bicep fills my hand.
    Lorna and Thom are arguing quietly when we enter.
    “Time to eat.” Her voice is like a summer sunrise intruding
on a Saturday sleep-in. We find seats at the table, like a family.
    Another thing I didn’t know was how good Lorna is
at directing conversation. She asks questions I would never think of. Hayden’s
Brazilian mother and American father were missionaries. He grew up in Madrid,
he’s fluent in Spanish. Lorna confirms this by conversing in Spanish, until I
start asking questions. He is the only one of four children who did not become
a missionary. He has no family in the States.
    “So why did you pick Reno?” Lorna hates it here.
    “A cop named Mel Chapmen.” Hayden smiles at me,
and I notice the scar over his lip again where the mustache doesn’t quite hide
it. “He came to Madrid on a short-term mission trip three summers in a row.”
Hayden refuses Lorna’s offer of more food. “He suggested I visit him. I ended
up staying.”
    I’ve seen pictures of Spain, and I can’t imagine
anyone trading a place like that for Reno’s high desert. The only thing that
really survives here, without tending, is whatever sagebrush can grab hold of
rock as it blows along.
    We cut cake, but thankfully they don’t sing.
    “How old are you?” Hayden asks, with a dab of
frosting on his lip.
    There’s a pause. Lorna scowls at Thom.
    “She’ll be eighteen on Tuesday,” Thom answers.
    “An adult.” An ‘adult,’ Lorna says, meaning:
you’re on your own now.
    Hayden studies me. His previous smile has become a
rigid replica. He begins to alternate tapping his thumb and pinky against his
thigh. Lorna asks a question, but Hayden and I continue our stare-down. I’m
afraid if I look away, he’ll tell Thom about the Wild Lily.
    “Why don’t you two kids take a walk?” Thom has
interrupted his wife. I’m sure he’ll suffer for that when we leave, but he has
a calm confidence about him. He stands and shakes Hayden’s hand.
    Hayden follows me outside.
    “What?” I turn and ask, as soon as we’re off the
porch.
    “Nothing.” He takes my hand and we begin to walk.
After we pass Raenah’s, he adds, “You’re not eighteen yet.”
    “You have a problem with that?”
    He stops and looks at me, but doesn’t drop my
hand. “Yeah.” His brows are slightly lifted, as if surprised I would question.
    I look at the trailer behind him. The yard has
little bits of torn dog toys covering it.
    Hayden lets go of my hand and takes two or three
strides before I recover. I want to hold his hand again, but I don’t try.
    “Is this just because of your religion?”
    “What?”
    “That’s why you’re