at twisted angles out in the pasture, like signposts pointing toward home.
“It’s funny how small our apartment is in New York, compared to all this vast property,” April said.
“I would have thought you’d feel stifled there amid all the skyscrapers and traffic jams,” Reed said, then wondered why he’d even made the comparison.
“I did at first,” she replied, the honesty in her eyes surprising him. “The city took some getting used to. But now…well, I like being a part of that pulse, that energy. In a way, New York is as wide-open and vast as this land. You just have to find the rhythm and go with it.”
“Too fast-paced for me,” Reed said, thinking they were straying back into personal territory. To lighten things, he asked, “How do Summer and Autumn like it?”
“They love it, too,” April replied, laughing. “We all joke with our friends about how we left small towns with such big, famous names—Paris, Athens, and Atlanta—only to wind up in the biggest city of all—New York.”
“I guess your friends do get a kick out of making fun of our slow, country ways.”
“No, we don’t allow that,” she quickly retorted, an edge of pride in her tone. “Reed, you never did get that we loved our lives here in East Texas, but we all felt we had to get away, in order to…to become independent and sure-footed.”
That statement had his skin itching, as if barn fleas had descended on him. “Seems you could have done that right here on the Big M.”
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