I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father to you. I realize now that when your mama died, that was all you had left in this world. And I was so wrapped up in my own feelings, my own grief, that I couldn’t see yours.
So I don’t blame you for leaving. Hell, I don’t even blame you for punching me. I deserved it for what I did to you.
In some ways, I’m glad you left. Not for my own sake, but for yours. Your mama and I both knew you were… different. The kind of different that make places like Hell Creek hard to live in. Lord knows I’ve had my own struggles in that same way. Even though I loved your mama something fierce, I still had feelings that I wanted to chase. And your mama, the saint she was, accepted that with all the grace and support she could. She was a better woman than I deserved.
But you got out and judging by what Mr. Whitaker has been able to find out about you, it seems like you’ve lived a good life.You got a college degree, a good job, and from what I’ve seen, you’ve become a damn decent man. You made both your mama and me proud, so don’t forget that.
Now we come to the part I’ve been dreading.
I’m dying.
There’s just no nice way to say it. I’m not long for this world, Jesse, but I wanted to talk to you one last time. I think when I first started writing this letter, I was thinking I wanted you to come home, to see you one last time. But now… well, let’s just say I think it’s best you remember me how I was.
But I do have one last thing to say to you. While I don’t blame you for leaving and I don’t blame you for being upset with me, I think you did Cole a disservice. That boy… well, he takes after me in more ways than one. I can see how he’s inherited my pride, my stubbornness, and my… preferences. He’s always been so quiet and stoic, but when I look at him, it’s like I’m looking in a mirror.
I know you two fought a lot growing up. But there came a time, when you were both in high school, that I realized things might be shifting between you. I’m not sure you noticed, but Cole was getting mighty protective of you, and not just in an older brother sort of way. When I brought it up to your mama she just shrugged. I don’t think either of us knew what to think. But we weren’t worried either. If anything came of it, then it was fine. You two never wanted to be stepbrothers, anyway.
Maybe I’m out of line here and maybe you don’t feel that way about Cole. But that boy loves you. I can see it in his eyes whenever I mention your name.
So, if you and Cole accept the terms of the will and things get more… involved… just know you have my blessing. And your mama’s. All we ever wanted for you two was to be happy. In fact, that’s all I ask. Find some happiness in this world, Jesse, and hold onto it as tight as you can.
Love Always,
-Jack
That was all. I folded it up once more and put it away.
When I looked up, Cole was sitting on the steps, his own letter across his knee. Head down, hat in his hands. The backyard was dark. Somewhere along the creek, a coyote yipped.
I went and sat beside him. The sky had gone that strange violet between sunset and true night, a color so beautiful and lonely it made you want to keep breathing just to see what happened next. I listened a while to the wind and the frogs. Neither of us said a word.
I reached over and took Cole’s hand. He didn’t pull away. Just held on, his fingers rough and cracked from fixing fence all spring, but gentle as anything when they twined up with mine.
“Do you want to know what it said?” I asked, my voice quiet as the creek below.
“Probably the same as mine,” he replied, tossing his letter onto the step. “That dad knew a lot more about us than we thought.”
He gave a short, crooked smile, and there was some relief in it, maybe even a faint hilarity at how hard we’d both tried to keep secrets that were clearly never just ours to keep.
I thumbed the letter in my pocket. “He said not to waste time regretting. Just… find happiness where we could. That he was proud of us. Both of us.”
Cole exhaled a long, slow breath. “He said that to me, too. Told me not to fuck up the best thing that ever happened to Nelson Ranch. Or to myself.” He let out a shaky laugh. “Guess he meant you.”
I leaned over, bumping his shoulder with mine, and for the first time in my life it felt easy. Possibly even natural, almost. Spring air and the scent of thaw and new grass. My own hands didn’t tremble anymore.
We sat there until the night went full black. Cole rested his head against my shoulder eventually, and I felt the old grief for Jack soften around the edges. He was gone, but he left the two of us with the gift of honesty, even if we’d taken the long way to get there.
After a while, Cole said, “Do you think people will ever stop talking?”
I shook my head. “Not until all the old-timers are dead. Not even then, probably.”
He grunted, but I could tell he liked the answer. There was a strange pride in it, like we could outlast them all if we just kept moving forward.
“Tomorrow we need to check the western fence,” he said quietly, after some minutes. “If the water’s up, it’ll wash out all those new posts.”
I almost laughed. “You never miss a beat, do you?”
He shrugged. “Life doesn’t stop just because there’s rumors in town.”
