Behind the barns and near the open pasture, Olivia took a sip of lager and grinned at the story Amy's brother Kyle was telling Nate about Justin's first black eye, right after he'd broken his leg falling from a cottonwood.
A bonfire crackled in the center of their small circle of chairs, a radio off to the side playing flashback songs from the nineties. Temperatures had finally begun to warm, yet the nights still held a nip in the air. The scent of firewood mingled with fresh grass and blooms.
It had taken two weeks, but the winter wheat had been harvested. They were relaxing this weekend before planting the spring crop. Most of the ranch hands had gone into town, aside from her few close friends, to let off some steam.
She glanced at the blackened sky, twinkling with stars, and a pang of longing hit her. Between Kyle's story and working the fields, she missed Justin something fierce. Spring had always been his favorite season.