“Hush!” Elsie snapped at me, looking quickly over her shoulder toward the front door. “I can’t talk here. My mom is inside.”

“Then let’s go for a walk!” I exclaimed, dismounting Chestnut and giving Elsie an insistent look. “You can’t drop that bomb and leave it at that!”

“Fine.”

Elsie crossed the porch to the screen door, stuck her head in, and called out,

“Mama, I’m going for a walk with Rora!”

I couldn’t make out Mrs. Armstrong’s muffled response from inside the house, but she must’ve said okay, because Elsie gave a satisfied nod and clattered down the wooden stairs. We walked away from the house, down to the tree line that divided my family’s farm from the Armstrongs’.

As soon as we made it to the safety of the trees, I whirled around to face Elsie.

“Now you better spill! What the heck?! When did you have sex? With who?!”

Elsie gave me a sheepish smile before launching into her story.

“I was in Des Moines, delivering some crops to the wholesale market. The truck broke down, and I had to stay the night in town.”

“Alone?!” I squeaked.

My parents would’ve freaked.

“Yep.” Elsie nodded, tugging absentmindedly on the long blond braid hanging over her shoulder. “I’d just turned twenty-one and hadn’t been to a bar yet, so I figured why not go while I was there. There was this bar up the road from my hotel, and I met this guy there…”

“You met a guy in a bar?!” I squeaked out, trying not to sound too scandalized.

“He looked like a young Tom Cruise,” Elsie replied dreamily. “And he was so nice. A real gentleman, Rora.”

“So you…” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“We went back to my hotel room,” Elsie replied, her eyes sparkling.

I stared at her open-mouthed. Elsie, with her wide eyes and innocent smile, with her sweet and pure heart, was the last person I’d expect to haul some stranger from a bar back to her hotel room. Like a…well…a “lady of the night,” my mama would say.

While I was shocked, I was also curious. And sort of in awe. Who knew my best friend could be so bold?

“What was it like?” I asked in a hushed tone.

“Amazing,” Elsie replied, her cheeks flushed.

“But, like… What did you do? How did it feel? Did he… And did you…you know…finish?” Again, my voice squeaked. Gosh, I sounded like a kid.

“That’s between me and him,” Elsie said, but she had a sly smile on her face, and her eyes were glowing knowingly.

I stared at her, dumbstruck. For a few moments, the only sound was the babbling of the creek water rushing past. I felt like I barely knew my best friend. She was this whole other person, radiating this calm, cool confidence. She was a woman. Not a girl, like me.

“He wants to come to Sloane to meet my family,” Elsie went on.

“Wow. So he’s the real thing.”

I couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. It was kind of romantic and exciting—this new, suave stranger, waltzing into her life and sweeping her off her feet. Elsie looked radiantly happy.

“Let’s see.” Elsie gave a shrug. “He’s gotta get past my parents first.”

I nodded. The Armstrongs were almost as strict as my parents. Sloane was a conservative place. Everything in town revolved around the church. If you missed even one Sunday service, you’d better have a dang good excuse.

“Anyway, you should go for it with Owen,” Elsie continued. “Show him what he’s missing.”

“But he’ll just turn me down again!” I wailed, so loud that Chestnut gave a startled harumph. “You should’ve seen him this morning. He practically ran out of the stable to get away from me.”

“Well, maybe you need to rethink your approach,” Elsie replied with a giggle. “I mean, instead of pulling the boy into the dirty stables, put on your nicest underwear and sneak into his room at night.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I admitted, looking down at my outfit. My jeans were smudged with dirt, and my shirt was wrinkled and dusty. No wonder Owen ran. “Thanks, Elsie.”

“Sure. Don’t tell anyone what I told you, alright? Pinky swear?”

Elsie held her extended pink out, and I hooked mine through it.

“Your Des Moines Tom Cruise secret is safe with me.”

We made our way back to the Armstrong house. As we approached, we saw Mrs. Armstrong standing on the porch, looking worried.

“Thank the lord you girls are back!” she exclaimed, her voice strained.

Elsie and I exchanged uneasy glances.

“What’s wrong, Ma?” Elsie asked.

“Another tornado is on the way. We’ve only got a couple hours to prepare.”