Under the Dusty Sky (Holloway Farms)

CHAPTER 1
    Graceland
    It’s been tense around the farm since my brother, Hunter, told us he was leaving. I still think Daddy thought he wasn’t serious. But here he is, his suitcase packed and Emma waiting outside in his pick-up. The black one that Dad threatened to take away from him after we all accepted that he’s definitely going to Lincoln. No matter what. Leaving me stuck here in Middle of Nowhere, Nebraska.
    Hunter has these eyes that coat me in their silky brown concern. He reaches out, grabbing one of my long braids, and tugs it like he used to when I was a kid.
    “ Gracie, you know I love you.” His smile is strong and masculine. He looks more like a man now. More like Dad. Dust specks hang in the bright beam of sunlight shining into our huge boot room. The tiny particles sparkle as they float around my favorite brother, the brother that has taken care of me since I was three, since our mom left.
    I stick out my lip and lightly kick his foot. Hoping it will work, but my guilt-trips lost their power at around thirteen.
    “ Then don’t leave me. Not with the twins.” I point a thumb at my other two brothers.
    Hunter takes me by the shoulders and pulls me into his chest. I tilt my head to look up at him, and squeeze his waist. He’s solid. Just as solid as Dad, but years of hard farm work do that.
    Everyone pitches in. Dad’s motto. Even I have guns from shoveling crap all day.
    Hunter chuckles, his chest bouncing my head with each short burst. I pull away.
    “ Not funny, Hunt. They’re lazy.” I’m flat-out whining now, running out of tricks to make him stay.
    The twins, standing on either side of me in our large entrance, both push my shoulders at the same time. I glare at Hunter. He’s leaving me with this.
    “ Hey! Don’t hit your sister, you little shits.” He shoves each of them with one hand, and they both stumble back into the wall behind me. I smile. Hunter always protects me. I’m the youngest and the only girl, which is totally unfair.
    “ Don’t go,” I whisper. I know he’s going.
    He looks over his shoulder out the door and runs his hand over his short brown hair. Same color as mine.
    “ Graceland, you know I’m going. This is important to Emma. I love her, and you love me. So let me go, little sis.”
    Tears stab at the corners of my eyes. I promised I wouldn’t cry. Told myself that I’ll be mad at Emma forever. Hunter always said I’m the only girl in his life. That it’s family above all else. Until Emma moved to town.
    “ Fine. Go.” My mouth pulls into a full and totally fake smile. Teeth and all. I know Hunter sees through it, but it works on everyone else.
    I kiss his cheek quickly before heading down the hall and running up the stairs to the third story of our old farmhouse. I hate when the twins see me cry.
    “ I’ll be home in a couple weeks for the Summer Kick-off, Gracie. Don’t be like this,” he yells down the hall.
    I slam my bedroom door and sit hard on the floor. The wood is cold on my bare legs, even though it’s shorts weather outside already.
    No more than three tears fall before I sniff hard and press the heels of my hands to my eyes. Sucking in a slow steady breath, I look up, and my gaze is drawn to my bedside table. A little leather journal lay open, it’s pages worn and cracked from the number of times I’ve flipped through it. I breathe in deeply once more and take my eyes off the book. I can’t read it again. Not right now. Not when I feel like this. A few more breaths, and I still feel uneasy, as if the journal stares at me. Picks at me. Knows how I feel about Hunter leaving.
    I need to go for a ride. Jumping up, I kick off my pajama shorts, and change into my old ripped jeans with the leather patches everywhere. My riding jeans. I’d never be caught wearing these hideous things off the farm. On my way out, I pick up the little book, my mother’s journal, and toss it into the closet, slamming the door, and leave my room.
    Grazing the papered walls with my fingertips, I run down the long hallway that splits our huge house in two. I move through the kitchen. Past Archer, who cocks an eyebrow at me from his place at the table reading another of his stupid books, and jump over Asher’s leg as he tries to trip me. Grabbing the keys for the quad off the wall by the phone, I stick my feet into my mud-caked cowboy boots. The screen door slams behind me as I jump off the porch onto the dusty path. I can see the dust cloud in the