AUBREE
“Thanks for dropping me off,”I tell Nora as we come to a stop in front of the big house. “I didn’t expect to be out as late as we were, but it was fun. I missed you.”
She smiles over at me. “I missed you too. You’ll have to join me for girls’ night out on Friday. We have a really good time.”
She mentioned this earlier tonight. “I know most of the girls from high school, don’t I?”
“You do, and they’d all love to see you.”
There’s still a part of me that feels weird about being home. Like, I came back because I failed, when that’s not right. I was lied to, my heart was broken, and I didn’t have a choice. “We’ll see. I’ll let you know for sure Thursday?”
“Take your time. Ain’t like it’s going anywhere. Talk to ya later.”
I get out and wave goodbye to her. Truett’s truck is parked next to the barn, and the light is on in his window. It’d be easy to go inside and talk to him, but it’s not what I want to do. Instead, I walk to the back porch and have a seat on the old swing that’s been here for decades. Testing it out, I bounce slightly to make sure it can hold my weight, and when I’m sure it can, I give apush with my toe. Looking out over the backside of our property, I can’t help but be proud Truett has been able to keep it for as long as he has.
I’ve been sitting in the silence, except for the sounds of the night around the ranch, when I hear the definite sound of riders on horseback approaching.
The rhythmic sound of hoofbeats grows louder, and I strain my eyes to see through the darkness. Two riders emerge from the shadows, and even in the dim light, I recognize the familiar silhouettes. Jesse and Devlin, riding side by side like they have since we were kids.
But something feels off. It’s well past midnight, far too late for routine ranch work. The way they’re sitting in their saddles doesn’t match the casual pace of men finishing up a normal day.
They pull up near the barn, and I watch Jesse dismount with that fluid grace he’s always had. Even from this distance, I can make out the sharp lines of his profile, the way his dark hair falls across his forehead under his hat. My heart does that stupid flutter thing it’s been doing since I came home, the same reaction I had to him when I was seventeen and thought I knew everything about love.
“Hey there,” I call out, trying to keep my voice light and casual.
Both men turn toward the porch, and I see Jesse’s shoulders relax slightly when he spots me. “Aubree. Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”
I push off with my toe again, setting the swing in motion. “Could say the same about you two. What were you doing out there in the dark?”
There’s a pause, just long enough to make me suspicious. Jesse exchanges a quick look with Devlin before answering. “Got caught up fixing that fence line on the north pasture. Lost track of time.”
“Devlin,” Jesse continues, his voice carrying that note of authority I remember from when we were younger. “Why don’t you take care of the horses? I’ll be along in a minute.”
Devlin nods and leads both horses toward the barn without a word. The easy camaraderie between the brothers seems strained, like they’re both carrying some invisible weight.
Jesse walks over to the porch, his boots making soft sounds on the worn wooden steps. In the pale moonlight, I can see the dust coating his clothes, the way his shirt sticks to his chest with sweat. But there’s something else too—an edge to him that wasn’t there this morning.
“Mind if I sit?” he asks, gesturing to the empty space beside me on the swing.
“Course not.”
He settles next to me, and immediately the air fills with his scent—leather, horses, and something uniquely him that makes my pulse quicken. The swing creaks slightly under our combined weight, but it holds steady.
“So,” I say, turning to study his profile. “Fixing fences in the dark? That’s new.”
Jesse chuckles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not much choice when there’s this much work to be done. Can’t afford to lose cattle because of a broken fence.”
He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out. “You mind?”
I shake my head, watching as he lights it with practiced ease. The flame from his lighter briefly illuminates his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the fullness of his lips. When he takes that first drag, I find myself staring at his mouth longer than I should.
“Want some?” He offers the cigarette to me.
I shouldn’t. I quit smoking years ago when I moved to the city. But something about being back here, about sitting next toJesse in the darkness, makes me want to reclaim pieces of who I used to be.
“Sure.”
Our fingers brush as I take the cigarette from him, and the contact sends electricity up my arm. I take a slow drag, letting the familiar burn fill my lungs, then pass it back. We fall into an easy rhythm, sharing the cigarette while the swing moves gently back and forth.
