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saying you would prefer to commit yourself to a woman instead of a man.”
    Rebecca’s voice was flat, betraying no emotion. Dylan examined Rebecca’s face but couldn’t unravel the mystery hidden in Rebecca’s brown eyes. “How does that make you feel?”
    Rebecca fidgeted in her seat but didn’t let go of Dylan’s hand. Dylan was grateful for the continued contact. If Rebecca didn’t shy away, that meant there was still hope. There was still a chance what she was feeling wasn’t one-sided.
    “Papa says it’s wrong for a man to lie with a man as he would a woman. He says it’s wrong for a woman to love a woman as she would a man.”
    “I’m not asking you what your father thinks. What do you think?”
    “I think I’ll love you no matter who you choose to spend your life with.”
    Dylan’s heart skittered when she heard Rebecca use the verb love in a sentence in which she was the object. “What if I said I wanted that someone to be you?”
    Rebecca pulled her hand away. “Are you— Do you think I am like you?”
    “I was hoping you were.”
    Rebecca leaned against the passenger door. As the physical distance between them widened, Dylan felt the emotional chasm grow as well.
    “Have I ever shown any sign that I might feel as you do?” Rebecca asked.
    “That day in the cornfield, I thought—I hoped—there might be something between us. A spark that could grow into something bigger than either of us ever imagined. When I go to bed each night, your face is the last thing I see. When I wake up each morning, your name is on my lips. My father tried to tell me not to think of this as a date, but—”
    “Your father knows about you?”
    “My parents and I talk about everything. We always have.”
    “When you told them, they didn’t…punish you?”
    “No, they loved me. So would yours.”
    Rebecca looked out the window. “My parents aren’t like yours. They can’t be. They love me, but there are rules they must follow.”
    “Do those rules say your parents have to stop loving you if you do something that displeases them? I doubt that. You’re their daughter. They’ll love you no matter what you do. Maybe our parents are more alike than you think. Maybe you and I are, too.”
    Dylan held out her hand. Time stopped while she waited for Rebecca to respond. If Rebecca took her hand, it would mean the beginning. If she didn’t, it would be the end. After what seemed like an eternity, Rebecca bridged the distance between them. Her palm slid across Dylan’s. When Dylan spread her fingers, Rebecca curled hers around them and squeezed. Rebecca’s grip felt strong and sure. It felt like acceptance. Dylan’s heart sprouted wings and threatened to fly out of her chest.
    “So do you want me to take you home, or are you ready to party?”
    Rebecca giggled. “Let’s party.”
    Dylan eased back into traffic. She felt like she and Rebecca had just passed their first test. How would they do on the next one?
    “Can we go shopping tomorrow?” Rebecca picked at a seam on the baggy jeans. “I can’t possibly borrow your clothes every weekend. I’ll need some of my own.”
    “Of course we can go. I’ll invite Mom along. I’m sure she would love to have a girls’ day out. We haven’t had one in years. If I ask nicely, I think I could convince her to take us to the spa for massages and mud baths.”
    “A mud bath?” Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “I can get one of those on the farm.”
    Dylan laughed, glad to see Rebecca was finally starting to get comfortable. “It’s not the same. This one is a lot more expensive. It smells a lot better, too.”
    Dylan pulled into the parking lot of the Kwik Stop, where Marian was holding court with four boys huddled around a battered Trans Am. Dressed in tight jeans and a short top that bared her navel, Marian flirted brazenly with each of the boys. They competed for her attention. “Relax, fellas,” she said when the competition threatened to turn physical.