Page 20

CHAPTER 20

JUST ME AND MY LADY

JACKSON

“J ax, can you go put Penny and Lady back in the barn for the night?” Dad asks from his crouched position. One of the gates busted this afternoon so he’s fixing the latch on it before we head in for the night.

? * I look up at the sky. “It’s not supposed to storm, is it?”

“Nah, but I need Frank in the south pasture tonight watching the herd until we bring them in tomorrow. Last thing I need is some wolves getting at our girls because he’s not here to watch them.”

In case you were confused, Penny and Lady are mine and Dad’s horses, and Frank is our Great Pyrenees. He’s a livestock guardian dog who spends the majority of his life with either the cows or the horses, except for when Mom convinces him to come relax with her on the porch on Sunday mornings before church. He’s also got an impressive tally under his belt. Killed more wolves than any other livestock guardian dog I know.

“You want me to just wait until you’re done?” As good of shape as Dawson Baker is in, it’s a decent walk back to the house, and he’s no spring chicken.

Dad side-eyes me and laughs. “I’m good.” He looks around him. “Looks like it’s shaping up to be the perfect summer night. A nice walk would do me some good.” Dad rubs at his belly. “Your mother would probably agree.”

I snort a laugh. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the bowl of ice cream every night before bed or the cinnamon rolls with a pound of icing she makes you for breakfast.”

Narrowing his eyes he points his finger at me. “The only reason this ranch has survived this long is because of those cinnamon rolls.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Oh, I don’t doubt it for a second.” I grab Penny’s lead and hop up on Lady. “Call me if you need me.”

Mumbling under his breath, he waves me off and goes back to fixing the gate. Lady and I lead Penny back to the barn at a relaxed pace. We could easily trot back, even with me holding Penny’s lead in one hand, but Dad’s right. It is shaping up to be the perfect summer night.

The Montana summer night that tourists dream of seeing at least once in their life.

The kind that I’ve been lucky enough to have spent countless hours running outside in, as a kid.

The kind that I laid under the stars with Katie James freshman year of high school while we held hands.

As Penny, Lady, and I come to the top of the hill behind the barn, I stop and take a moment to look around. My youngest brothers, the twins, Bryson and Grayson are doing the nightly farm chores, I can smell Mom’s dinner floating through the open kitchen window, the dogs are chasing around a couple of barn cats, and the evening sun is well on its way to painting the perfect picture in the sky. The pinks and oranges the perfect backdrop to the pristine mountain range.

Inhaling a deep breath, I take it all in.

I could have stayed in Pensacola for the summer; I didn’t need to come home and work. But I knew in my soul this was exactly what I needed. I was lost and I knew these people, my family, and this place, could help me find myself again. And when I called Mom and Dad a few days before I left to ask if it was okay, Mom basically sprinted upstairs to get my room ready before the phone call was even over.

I’ve been home for a few weeks now, and I have loved every minute of it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard work, and there are some mornings I wake up and my knee feels stiffer than ever. But the second my ass hits Lady’s saddle for our morning ride, everything else just fades into the background.

There’s no busted up knee. No stressing about going back to school for another year. No thinking about who my new doubles partner is going to be. No wondering what I’m going to do after college. And most importantly, no him.

It’s just me, Lady, and the mountain air.

For the first time in almost a year, my mind is… clear.

One of the dogs barking in the distance pulls me out of my day dream, and I start to walk Lady and Penny down the hill. Once I get to the barn I hop off Lady and start undoing both their saddles and get them ready to go in the barn for the night.

“Where’s Dad?” Grayson asks.

“Still fixing the fence. Said he’d walk back when he’s done.”

Bryson’s eyes light up. “Mom’s almost got dinner ready. If we can beat Dad inside we could pick the first steak.”

“Ha. You and I both know Mom is just going to set it aside for him,” I tell the twins.

Bryson rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. They’re so in love it really grosses me out sometimes.”

He’s not wrong. The love my parents have for one another is something very few people find in their lifetimes. It’s a kind of love I’ve seen only a handful of times. In my parents. In Rocky’s parents. And now… between Clay and Rocky.

It’s a kind of love I always dreamt of having. A kind of love I know my parents would give anything for me to have. For any of their sons to have.

A love that I find myself craving more and more every day.

And that thought lingers with me as I put the horses away and walk back to the house behind the twins. Was it my desire to find a love like that, that clouded my judgment? Was the glimmer of hope all I needed to obsess over a man who was so clearly not good for me?

Maybe it’s also why, despite not speaking to him once since I left school, regardless of his many attempts to text and call me, I still find myself religiously checking those damn cameras. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to bed.

I will admit, as unhealthy as my new little habit may be, I have learned quite a bit about he who shall not be named . I’ve learned that he drinks his coffee black. He watches New Girl and The Office episodes on repeat. He eats stovetop popcorn at least twice a week. And most importantly, whatever is going on between him and Bridget is clearly not built out of love. When she’s home, which appears to be rarely, the two of them hardly talk, let alone touch. And even though I don’t have a camera in their bedroom, which I’m both kicking myself for and partly grateful, I think it’s safe to assume they don’t have sex.

I don’t know what is going on between them or why they’re even together, but I can confidently say, I don’t care.

Or… at least I’m starting not to.

“Boys! Don’t you dare, that’s your father’s, and you know it.” My mom’s voice sounds through the screen door as I make my way up the front porch. “You haven’t even washed your hands!”

Laughing, I push through the screen door and toe off my boots. I set them by my family’s and hang my Stetson hat on one of the hooks next to the door.

When I round the corner I spot Mom trying to hide her smile as tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum fight over who gets to use the sink first, as if it’s not big enough for them to both use at the same time. When she spots me her smile only grows. “Hey, Baby,” she says.

“Hey, Momma,” I answer before kissing her cheek.

The twins are still shoving and she rolls her eyes. “I swear, you and Emerson were never this ridiculous when you were sixteen.”

I chuckle softly. “We were also not twins.”

“Fair point,” she answers with a wink. “Your father gonna be back soon?”

“Yeah, he was just finishing up. Said he wanted to take a walk.”

She scoffs. “He could use it too.”

“He said you’d say something like that.”

A blush crawls over her cheek. “Why don’t you get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in a few.”

“Thanks, Momma.” I kiss her other cheek and move to go up stairs, but she grabs my arm.

“I’m happy you’re home, Baby.”

“I’m happy to be home.” I shoot her a wink before heading up to my room. And when I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror, and I see my tan skin, dirt on my face, and a genuine and true smile staring back at me, I know that statement rings truer than it ever has.

* ? Hey Driver - (feat. The War and Treaty) - Zach Bryan, The War and Treaty