Until Jo.
She's the reason I sat up and began to take stock of what I've been doing. Being forced to help her here at Wildflower is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wasn't waxing poetic when I told her I love everything it took to make her who she is. I'd never utter a word I don't mean when it comes to Jo. Wild ways and desperado-like behavior aside, Jo gets the best of me.
Travis shifts, tipping his head so the back of it touches the wall. "I don't know how to look at her now."
I sniff, thinking. "I'd say it's like anything hard. It's only new the first time you do it, and it gets easier from there."
"It makes sense the longer I think about it. She's always been really protective of me. She visited a lot, she took me shopping when she came. She'd ask if I needed anything and my"—he gulps—"grandma acted annoyed. I thought she was just an awesome big sister. Makes more sense to me now." Travis sighs deeply. "What happens from here? Is she my mom now?"
"You'll have to talk with her about that."
"Who has custody?" He makes a face. "And why does anybody need to have custody of me? I'm fifteen. I'm not a baby. In a few years, I'll be an adult."
I'm not about to argue with a kid who craves the same independence I did. "Legally, you need a guardian, even though you're pretty close to being an adult." Three years is a long way off, but I get the feeling Travis needs a little boost, and far be it for me to be the one who denies him. "Maybe you should go find Jo and talk to her."
Travis leans over closer to the end of his bed, looking out the window. "Do you know where she is?"
"Somewhere on the property. She's taking pictures for the woman she hired to do the marketing."
Travis glides over the comforter, placing his feet on the ground. He starts to stand but pauses. "Did she buy this place for me?"
Technically, the answer isyes, but I don't know that a kid needs to have that knowledge, and the pressure that might accompany it, so I shrug. "This ranch has been a dream of hers for a long time. I'm sure having you here with her is a part of it."
He gets up and goes for the door. I realize I haven't found out where he got those firecrackers, so I ask.
"A couple guys in town. They said they bought too many and didn't need them. I didn't know they were illegal, I swear. If I'd known what they could do, I would have thrown them away."
I know the answer to my next question already, but I ask it anyway. "Was one taller than the other? Looked kind of alike? A little worse for the wear?"
"I guess? I didn't notice a whole lot about them. They seemed nice enough. The taller one told me his name was Ricky, and he shook my hand and told me to make sure I remembered him."
Fuck. Just like Dixon, picking their way through town, trying to find the loner, being friendly to a kid they think they can eventually turn into a client. Fresh meat.
I nod. "Thanks, Travis."
He continues out of his room, and I put the chair back where it belongs.
I think I did okay, as far as heart to hearts go. It's a scary thing, holding a kid's feelings in your palm. Makes me look at my parents differently. Especially my dad.
It also gives me a renewed sense of purpose. Those assholes aren't going to fuck with my family, and as far as I'm concerned, that includes Travis.
I'm going to end them.
38
Jessie
Some people learnlessons the hard way, and I’m one of them.
When Wyatt told me to stay out of town for a little while, it only piqued my interest.
I wanted to know who beat up my brother. And it didn't take long to find them, either. I put on a sundress, sat my ass on a bench on the busiest street in Sierra Grande, and like a moth to a damn flame, those assholes showed up.
Now I’m wishing my curiosity had stayed put. These men are terrible people. And they don’t accept the polite brush-off. I’m honestly scared to use my impolite direct communication.
The taller one, Ricky, has teeth browning on the outer edges. He sits too close to me, his knee pressed to mine. The other one, I don’t remember his name, keeps space between us, clearly deferring to Ricky.
“I wish you’d tell us your name, sweetheart.” Ricky’s finger runs along my forearm, his jagged fingernail scraping my skin. A shudder snakes through me.
