Page 11 of Rush Turner (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #6)

Jessa

T hree weeks later, I drove the U-Haul truck down the gravel driveway and smiled. I loved this farm. I was all set to get goats. We packed everything into two U-Hauls. Aunt Marie was driving the other one behind me.

I saw Willa standing on the front porch with some guys, who she said would help us unload the trucks. I pulled my truck to a stop, and then Aunt Marie pulled in next to me. We all climbed out of the trucks, and Willa walked to me and hugged me.

I almost fell over when I saw Rush step off the porch. He smiled and walked over to me. “You’re the one who rented this place?”

“Yes, and you know Willa Mae?”

“Yes, she married my teammate Nate.”

“We are ready to help you unload,” she said, taking my hand. “This is my husband, Nate Hayes. Nate, this is my good friend, Jessa Monroe. Do you two know each other?” she asked, looking at Rush and me.

“This is the man I told you about,” I said, looking at Willa.

“Rush is the man who helped you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful. He can still help if you need him.”

“Hi, Jessa, we are here to help. Tell us where to begin,” Nate said.

“Thank you. This is my aunt, Marie, and these are my siblings. We’ll start with this truck, it has most of the furniture.”

We worked for hours unloading the trucks. The men put the beds in the rooms they would occupy and every piece of furniture in its designated place.

Aunt Marie had made loads of sandwiches and sweet tea. I promised them a barbecue when we got settled.

Now the beds were made, and the kids were getting tired.

“Aunt Marie, this is your room,” I said, showing her to her room, which was down the hall from the kitchen. I’ll get a bed and fix it up for you. Tonight you can stay in my room, and I’ll sleep on the sofa.

“This is perfect. I have decided to sell my home and move in here with you and the children.”

“Aunt Marie, are you sure?”

“Yes, I realized I was missing out on life when the kids were with me. I loved the big dinners and the noise. If it’s all right with you, that is.”

“We would love to have you with us. Thank you. I love you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here with us. Momma is looking down, smiling.”

We all ended up crowded around the kitchen table, eating a quick dinner. Everyone was tired.

I looked at my family. John Wayne looked like he was in seventh heaven, checking out all the rooms. We put his bed and scratch post by the front window. Hopefully, he would like living here. I got him from a rescue shelter three years ago, and he and I loved each other instantly.

“There will be many firsts for us here. The man from whom we are obtaining the goats will deliver them in a few days . How about we all listen when he tells us how to care for them? Plus, we need to learn how to milk them.” I heard a lot of groans and chuckled.

Rush brought donuts; he didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to.

He listened to my siblings chatter about their new rooms and nodded when Aunt Marie teased him for not bringing ice cream, too.

I caught him watching me once or twice, as if he were checking to see whether I would crumble under all this change in my life.

I didn’t. This was an adventure, and I was glad we would be paying a fourth of what the mortgage payment was.

By the time the last crumb of donuts was gone, the little ones were rubbing their eyes. I herded them upstairs, kissed each forehead, and tucked them under blankets still smelling faintly of moving boxes and lavender dryer sheets.

When I came back down, the house was hushed except for the soft murmur of Aunt Marie singing in the kitchen. Rush was on the porch again, leaning against the railing, arms folded, eyes on the moonlit pasture.

He didn’t turn when I stepped outside. “They’re good kids. You’re good with them.”

I sank into the porch swing, the old chains creaking. “I keep waiting for someone to tell me I’m doing it wrong.”

“You’re not.” He glanced over, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve seen a lot of people fail at things that matter less. You’re doing right by them, Jessa. So your mom had a sense of humor and named all of them with J as the first letter in their names.”

“Yes, my Mom had a sense of humor. Everyone adored her. She was incredibly kind to everyone.

I could still feel my cheeks burning. Compliments still made me shy. Compliments from him nearly undid me.

I cleared my throat. “You didn’t have to check on us tonight. Or bring donuts. Or… any of it.”

“Yeah, I did.” His voice went gentle. “You think I was gonna sleep knowing you’re out here alone with a bunch of kids? Not happening.”

I bit back a laugh. “Well, you won’t have to worry long. This place is perfect. Once we get the goats and settle in—”

“—The goats?” he interrupted, eyebrows up.

“Willa says they practically sell themselves! Goat milk, goat cheese, soap… it’ll cover the bills until I figure out what comes next.”

Rush barked a quiet laugh and shook his head. “You’re serious. Goats.”

“Dead serious.”

We fell quiet again, the swing swaying lazily under me. For the first time in forever, my shoulders didn’t feel like they were holding up the sky.

I yawned, half hiding it behind my hand. Rush caught it anyway.

“Get some sleep, Songbird.” He pushed off the railing and stood over me, broad and solid and somehow so kind it made my chest ache.

“Songbird?” I repeated, smiling.

He ducked his head, sheepish. “Willa told me. About San Diego. About your singing.”

“Oh.” It felt like another life — beach bars, bright stage lights, tips in a glass jar.

Rush nodded toward the darkened hallway behind me. “Go on. I’ll lock up. If you need anything… anything… you call me. You got it? I put my phone number on the kitchen counter.

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Jessa. You’re not alone anymore.”

He sounded so certain. So fierce. It scared me how much I wanted to believe him.

I pushed up on my toes before I could lose my nerve and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Warm stubble, faint cologne. He went still as stone.

“Thank you, Rush. Goodnight.”

I didn’t look back as I slipped inside. I didn’t want to see his face — didn’t want to see what he saw in me. I stopped and said goodnight to Aunt Marie. She would be talking to a realtor the next day.

The next morning

A shriek jolted me awake. I bolted upright in bed, my hair sticking up in every direction.

Aunt Marie’s voice floated up from the kitchen: “Jessa! You need to come down here now! ”

Heart hammering, I ran down the steps barefoot and found Aunt Marie in the middle of the kitchen, mopping up water spraying wildly from under the sink.

“I think we have a busted pipe!” she said over the hiss and splatter. “Do you know who to call?”

I grabbed my phone, mind racing. Rush’s number was still fresh in my call log, I added it last night. Before I could second-guess myself, I hit dial.

He answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Songbird. Everything okay?”

I swallowed my embarrassment. “Not really. Can you… do you know how to fix a pipe?”

He chuckled. “Lucky for you, I do. I’ll be there in twenty.”