Jesse’s arms tighten around me, and I feel some of the tension leave his body. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Too stubborn.”
We lie there in the quiet, holding each other close, listening to the old house settle around us. Every small sound makes us both tense, straining our ears for any sign that Truett needs us, but the night stays peaceful.
Sleep comes in fits and starts, full of dreams that feel too much like memories and memories that feel too much like nightmares. I keep waking to check the clock, to listen for Truett’s breathing in the next room, to make sure Jesse’s still solid and warm beside me. Each time I drift off again, I’m pulled back by phantom sounds or the echo of Truett’s pained groans or the sight of all that blood on my hands.
Jesse sleeps no better, his body restless against mine, his breathing uneven. Once, I wake to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Idon’t say anything, just press myself against his back and wrap my arms around him until the storm passes.
When dawn finally starts to creep through the windows, painting everything in soft gray light, we’re both awake, staring at the ceiling and pretending we’ve been sleeping.
“I should check on him,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” Jesse agrees, but neither of us moves for a long moment.
Finally, I force myself to get up, padding barefoot to Truett’s room. He’s still sleeping, but his color looks better, and when I press the back of my hand to his forehead, his temperature feels normal. The sight of his chest rising and falling steadily is the best thing I’ve seen in hours.
“How is he?” Jesse asks quietly from the doorway.
“Sleeping,” I report, unable to keep the relief out of my voice. “No fever.”
Jesse nods, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders. “Nora’ll be here soon to check on him.”
“Yeah.” I take one last look at my brother, at this man who’s been my anchor and my protector for so many years, who last night scared me more than I’ve ever been scared in my life. “Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
I turn to face him, this man who’s become so much more than I ever expected, who held me together when I was falling apart, who’s shown me what it means to be truly, completely loved.
“Thank you,” I say simply. “For everything. For being here, for…for being you.”
His green eyes soften, and he crosses the room to pull me into his arms. “Where else would I be?”
Nowhere, I think as I melt against him. There’s nowhere else any of us would be but right here, taking care of each other,holding each other up when the world tries to knock us down. This is what family means. Not just blood, but choice. Not just love, but commitment.
And as the morning light grows stronger, chasing away the shadows of the longest night of our lives, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. All of us. Because that’s what we do. That’s who we are.
That’s how we survive.
TWENTY
JESSE
All of usare tired and mentally strung out when I head out to the barn. The hands are looking to me to figure out what needs to be done, and my brothers look like they’ve been up most of the night.
“Is Truett okay?” Dave asks, his eyebrows raised in concern.
“He will be. I’m not answering questions about what happened. Just know he needs some good thoughts. If you could do your normal tasks today, I’d appreciate it.”
Everyone nods before leaving. Everyone, that is, except for Devlin. He glances at me, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. “We need to hide those trucks and trailers, Jess. I almost guarantee you that Noah will come sniffing around today. We made a lot of noise last night.”
He’s right. “I just can’t even think straight right now. Not after what happened.”
“Let me take care of this. We’ll move them up to the northeast pasture, where it’s almost impassable once the thaw hits. It’ll hide those trucks for most of the year. By then, the heat will have died down.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “Sounds like a good plan. Go on and get to it. We need to act like nothing is different around here today.” Although everything is fucking different, and who knows if it’ll ever be the same again. I’m heading into the office when I hear a noise at the other end of the barn, and in walks Aubree. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugs. “I couldn’t stand to sit in there and wait for him to move. Cookie is checking on him when he needs it, but I had to get up and move, even if that means mucking out stalls.”
“And here you say you’re a city girl at heart,” I reach up and move a piece of hair out of her face.
