Sharpshooter: I’m going fishing with my nephew. I wish you could be here.

Sharpshooter: You like fishing?

Sharpshooter: Hey, if you don’t like it, we can talk about something else.

Sharpshooter: Want to talk about movies? How about trucks? I like trucks. Have I told you that before? We can talk about what you like to do on a Sunday afternoon. I like fishing and hunting.

Sharpshooter: You ever been hunting?

Sharpshooter: It’s hard to carry on a conversation when you don’t answer. Did I say something? I’m worried about you. Please answer.

Sharpshooter: I’ll be up all night if you don’t answer. If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, just tell me so. At least I’ll know you’re okay.

Kentuckygirl: I don’t want to talk to you anymore.

Sharpshooter: Why not?

Sharpshooter: I’m going to keep messaging you until you answer.

Kentuckygirl: What do you not get? I don’t want to talk to you anymore.

Sharpshooter: Why?

Sharpshooter: Why?

Sharpshooter: Why?

Sharpshooter: Why?

Sharpshooter: Why?

Kentuckygirl: OMG. Quit bothering me!

Sharpshooter: Answer my question, and I will.

Kentuckygirl: I don’t think we have anything in common. I hate fishing and hunting.

Sharpshooter: That’s it?

Kentuckygirl: Yes, that and you don’t like merry-go-rounds.

Sharpshooter: The last time I talked to you, you sounded like you were thinking about giving us a chance.

Kentuckygirl: I changed my mind.

Sharpshooter: Why?

Kentuckygirl: I’m searching for a different type of man. One who likes merry-go-rounds and who doesn’t like fishing and hunting.

Sharpshooter: So, if you don’t want a man who hunts and fishes, what do you want in a man?

Kentuckygirl: I want one who would do anything in the world for me, one who is kind and caring. A man who, when he sees a pretty flower, he’ll think about me. One who, when I’m upset or scared, I’ll know he’ll take care of it.

Sharpshooter: You do know the difference between a man and a woman, right?

Sharpshooter: A man doesn’t think like that. I’m not being mean, but they don’t especially think about a woman they’ve never met. Especially one who he doesn’t even know the color of her eyes or hair to compare it to which flower. A man can’t know what will upset you or make you scared until they find out for themselves. If you stop being afraid and send me a picture, or open up to me, maybe you would find out that we could have a future together instead of brushing me off.

Kentuckygirl: I’ll think about it.

Sharpshooter: Does that mean you’ll keep talking to me?

Kentuckygirl: Yes.

Sharpshooter: Cool. I’ve gotta go. I got a fish on the line. It’s a big son of a bitch.

Kentuckygirl: I hope he gets away.

Sharpshooter: Isn’t going to happen. I have my hook in.

Kentuckygirl: Jerk.

* * *

“Instead of giving me dirty looks, why don’t you go clean that fish?” Greer tossed the fish he had just caught into the cooler sitting on the bank.

“Go clean your own damn fish!” Rachel fumed, moving away from the fishy smell.

“If you’re going to barf, you might as well go back to your cabin,” he said with no concern.

His sister’s hands clenched into fists. “Greer, so help me God, if Logan weren’t watching, I’d throw you into the lake!”

Greer saw his nephew sitting on the rock overhanging the water. “Boy, what have I told you? You’re not allowed over there unless someone is with you.”

“Dad and Tate will be right back!” Logan yelled back.

Greer swore when Logan slid nearer the edge. “I don’t want to have to go swimming to fish you out. Get over here until they get back.”

Logan scooted backward, clambering down as he came back to the bank where he and Rachel were standing.

“What’s taking them so long?” Greer complained. “They just went to get some drinks.”

Rachel lowered her voice as Logan drew nearer. “They probably don’t want to be near you like I don’t.”

“More like, they want to drink a quick beer since Holly told them not to drink in front of Logan anymore.”

“Is that why you wanted to throw her out?”

Greer picked one particularly fat and juicy worm that was trying to wiggle out of the cup of worms he and Logan had dug up to use for bait. “Jesus, woman, I told you I didn’t throw her out.”

“You might as well have. She couldn’t take you always sniping at her. I don’t know how she took it as long as she has.”

“Why are you mad at Uncle Greer?” Logan’s troubled face went back and forth between them.

Rachel’s mouth snapped closed at Logan’s innocent expression. At the same moment, Tate and Dustin walked out of the woods, hearing Logan’s question.

“Aunt Rachel is always mad at Greer. Don’t worry about it.” Dustin handed Logan the small fishing pole he had brought from the car. “Go bait your hook, and I’ll take you to our favorite spot.”

Logan went to the plastic cup, losing interest in the adults.

Dustin’s normally carefree demeanor disappeared. “Rachel, we told you it was safer for Holly to stay at Mrs. Langley’s house. I may not like the way Greer handled it, but in town, she’s a spitting distance from the sheriff’s office, and The Last Riders have that house wired like Fort Knox.”

Greer let Dustin take his own grief from their sister. Usually, it was him or Tate who was on the receiving end of Rachel’s tongue. Dustin was closer to Rachel in age, giving him the benefit of bearing the scolding he and Tate had to take when she was mad at them.

“I just don’t understand why we don’t just tell her someone’s been snooping around our property.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Greer snorted. “And have to listen to her bitch about what’s growing in our backyard? It’s better this way. We don’t know for sure if one of the Hayes are behind it, since Tate told them to quit growing their crop on Sutton’s property. Or it could be the person who tried to attack Holly, and they’re snooping around, trying to find out when she’s home alone. We can’t watch her every second of the day and keep an eye on the field until it’s ready to be picked. I have plans for my part of it. I didn’t make much last year after Tate made us pay for that fancy kitchen Holly wanted.”

“Me?” Tate raised a brow. “I’m not the one who picked that stove with the griddle on it.”

“It was more useful than that dishwasher you picked out.”

“Maybe to you, but Holly was the one doing the dishes.”

“I didn’t hear her complaining about it.” Greer shrugged.

“She complained about it; you just didn’t listen.” Tate’s jaw squared. “As soon as you find out who’s been sneaking around, she can come back home.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Greer countered.

“Greer, if I find out you’re behind this just to get Holly to move out, I’ll never forgive you.” Rachel looked away from him as if she already believed he was behind the peculiar events.

Not only had several of their traps been sprung, but he had found some footprints outside the back door. More importantly, the dog was becoming skittish, walking around the house as if it was listening, padding back and forth between the two doors. So far, it had escaped Holly’s notice, and neither he nor Dustin wanted to worry her. And they never left her or Logan alone, but their plants were getting bigger and more valuable as each day passed.

It didn’t take a smart man to realize that if the perpetrators wanted the plants, they would stake out where the Porters were during the day and when was the best time to steal them without getting caught. And what if they weren’t after the plants but Holly? Pa said a wise man never believed what was under his nose. Even an onion wouldn’t smell until the layers were pulled back.

The fishing pole in his hand lowered.

“You know me better than that.” Raising the pole up, he cast his line into the water.

He was stung that his sister believed he was low enough to lie about someone sneaking around just to get Holly to move out. Everyone in town thought he was a mean asshole, but hearing the suspicion in Rachel’s voice hurt, though he would never admit it.

“He’s not lying.” Dustin walked to the water’s edge. “The dreams are coming more often. Whatever’s going to happen, it’s going to happen soon.”

Tate, Rachel, and Greer turned to stare at Dustin apprehensively. All the Porters had their gifts handed down from their great-grandmother. Most of the town knew of Rachel’s gift of healing since she had used it. Greer’s gift was rarely used, and the spirit world would always take their due when he did. Dustin’s gift was dreams of forewarning. It was different than Tate’s, who would hear the chiming of bells when Death drew close. The dreams would start as a forewarning, never showing him the victims until it was too late for him to warn them.

While Logan watched from farther away yet still within sight, Dustin wearily turned toward them, letting them see the burden he had carried over the last three months since the dreams had returned.

If not for their grandmother, Dustin would have been put on medication at a young age when they had been constantly awoken by his nightmares. They would go away then return with no rhyme or reason.

Their grandmother had been the one who had noticed the correlation of the dreams disappearing when a family member passed away. Pa had never believed their heritage was responsible for the gifts that were becoming more evident as they grew, arguing with their ma that her mother was brainwashing his children. They learned never to talk about it front of their pa. He even ignored their warnings the day he was determined to go fishing with their mother.

Dustin had dreamed about drowning for six months. Each night, he had dreamed he was drowning over and over again. The dreams had stopped the night they had died. They had known their parents were dead before the sheriff had shown him and Tate their bodies.

“You still have no idea who it could be?” Rachel whispered, as if the spirits could hear them. Greer knew there was no hiding from them. They would give their warnings, but they wouldn’t let the fate of who Dustin was dreaming escape the destiny foretold.

“No. Usually, they come and go after someone died. This one is different. I’ve dreamed this one for years. It’s the same every time. I go to sleep and a masked figure comes into the bedroom where I’m sleeping and smothers me until I …” Dustin didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. They knew how it ended.

“Do you think the dream could be you?” Rachel leaned against Dustin, stroking his arm as if to ease the worry etched in his features.

“No. I think it’s someone close. They’re preparing me to lose someone I love.”

Greer wasn’t afraid of much in life, but the thought of Dustin losing someone he loved scared him shitless. The Porters were close, so if Dustin loved them, it meant someone he loved was also in danger.

“We’ve done everything we can do. Cash is keeping close to Rachel. Sutton always has Tate with her.” Greer gently bobbed his fishing pole.

“She and Holly are alone now,” Rachel said uneasily.

“You know us better than that.” Greer didn’t break his concentration from his fishing. “I have Shade watching them. He owes us enough favors, so we have that handled if we can’t cover everyone at the same time. Once Holly moves into Mrs. Langley’s house, it’ll get easier. I won’t have to worry every time I go check on the plants. She can come back after we’re done drying and packaging them.”

“Or you can stop growing. Does one of us have to be killed before you all stop?”

“Explain to me how we can stop? You think The Last Riders will stop smoking it if we stop selling it?” Greer was just as tired of growing weed as Tate and Dustin were. “You want them smoking the shit that the Colemans and Hayes are selling? The Colemans are keeping the ER busy, because he talks them into oxy and coke, since it’s more money in their pockets. And I don’t want to know what the Hayes’s are laced with.”

“That may be true about the Coleman’s, but I just don’t see Jessie’s brothers doing that. She would turn them in herself if that were true. She wants them to stop as much as I want you to.”

“It’s the truth. A couple of The Last Riders bought some off them when I ran low. Shade brought it to me when one of the them passed out after smoking it. Sons of a bitches laced it with cough syrup.

“Forget The Last Riders; how about people like Cora Mae, who needs it when the chemo becomes too much for her? She doesn’t have relatives to go out and buy or steal it for her like Cal had to for his mother before she died.”

“Times are changing. Medical marijuana may become legal—”

“Not in Kentucky. It’ll never be in Kentucky. Hell, the legislatures adjourned before they could bring it up for vote. We’ll be dead and buried before it happens.” The Bible thumpers in Kentucky with deep pockets would make sure that would never happen.

His sister quit arguing, knowing that pill was hard to swallow, but it was true.

“Look on the bright side, sister. If they ever do, your brothers will be ready. Tate may share his Kentucky Gold with pharmacies in other states, but mine? I’m waiting until it becomes legal. He’s a sucker. I don’t share the plants I breed. That money will stay in our pockets.”

Dustin rubbed his forehead. “Stop arguing. Whoever is after us is filled with pure hate. I feel how much he hates us.”

“You sure it’s a man? Holly hates Greer enough to kill him.”

Greer looked over his shoulder to see if Tate was joking. He wasn’t. And the rest of his family seemed to be considering the same option.

“Holly couldn’t kill a fly. It took her six months before she would go get the eggs because she couldn’t bear the thought of the hens crying after them.”

“Hens cry?”

“How in the fuck do I know? It’s not like I’m on a first name basis with them. She almost passed out when I wrung that old rooster that kept pecking Logan. Holly may hate my guts, but she wouldn’t kill me,” he said confidently before yelling at his nephew. “Boy, if you climb that one more time before your pa or I are with you, I’m going to paddle that ass with my bare hand. You hear me?”

“The whole town can hear you.” Dustin’s face lightened as Logan sheepishly moved away from the large rock.

Greer reeled in the large fish that was struggling to get away.

“You caught another one, Uncle Greer!” His nephew came to his side, his own stick up out of the water.

Greer hunkered down next to him, taking Logan’s and handing him his. “You reel him in.” Coaching the small boy, he patiently guided him until Logan had the fish wiggling on the ground in front of him.

“Can I take out the hook?”

“Be slow.”

At first, Logan drew away from the fish, then he gathered his courage with the adults looking down at him.

“I did it!” He proudly raised the hook up for them to see.

Greer took it away from him. “Go put it in the cooler. You think you’re strong enough to pack it to the cabin and give to Cash?”

“Yes, sir.”

Greer took out his knife, cutting off the hook from the line as Logan manfully tried to lift the cooler.

Dustin’s fear was the same one the rest of them shared—that the recurring dream was a foretelling of his own son’s death.

“Quit worrying, Dustin. It’s not going to change a damn thing. If anything does happen, we’re prepared. Other than Winter’s baby, I haven’t healed anyone. I’ve been saving my strength—”

“What if something happens and we’re too late?”

“Well, brother, I guess God’s going to have a fight on His hands.”