"Sure, no problem." I set my book down on my bed and take the dish. My mom's eyes fall to all my bags leaning against my dresser. It's not even everything I brought, the rest is still in my car. I could've done a better job keeping the belongings out of sight, but… well, it was kind of on purpose. I was hoping she'd see it all, put two and two together, and then we'd talk. That way, she'd have a head start on her response, and I'd be spared the first part of it.
She points at my things and says sternly. "We're going to talk about that later."
I nod and scoot from the room, happy as hell to have a reason to escape. Unfortunately, I'm trading one place I don't want to be for another. Cowboy House is where all the cowboys stay, and normally it wouldn't be a big deal if I went over there. But last year at the annual cowboy barbecue, Imighthave stayed up shooting whiskey with the cowboys. Imost definitelyended up making out with one behind a tree, and I do not remember who it was. Oops.
It's the one and only time that happened, and there won't be a repeat. I'm back home for good, which means I can't go scampering off to college after shenanigans like that and act like it never happened.
It's time for me to stop relying on my status as the baby of the family and step up. When I caught Sawyer Bennett on our property yesterday afternoon, adrenaline wasn't the only feeling surging through me. I also recognized the clean relief brought about by a swift and clear truth.
My land. That's what I'd said to him, and I meant it. The HCC is mine, and I felt a parental instinct to protect it.
I knock on the door of the long, low-slung building. It's similar to the place at Jo's ranch where the campers sleep, but Cowboy House bears the HCC logo on the front.
"Come in," someone yells.
I pull back the screen door and prop it open with my hip, then open the door and walk inside. There's a living room and kitchen, which is where I'm standing now, that splits the structure in half. On either side of the common area are short hallways with bedrooms, two cowboys to a room. Wes says it reminds him of Army barracks.
Josh glances up from his seat at the old wooden table, aBass Mastermagazine lying open. He hustles to his feet when he sees it's me. "Miss Jessie, I didn't realize you were home."
I duck my chin in greeting. Josh is a fixture on the HCC. He's been here since my earliest memory. He's probably only ten years older than Wes, and he's the natural leader of the cowboys. They tend to fall in line when he speaks.
I set the huge glass dish on the cooktop. "You know you don't need to call me 'Miss'." I remove the tin foil cover, letting the scent of enchiladas fill the air. Balling up the foil, I toss it in the trash and say, "My mom made dinner for you guys."
"That was very nice of her."
I spin, my elbows bending and my hands gripping the countertop, and study Josh. He's getting older, and though I used to think of him as handsome, he is less so now. Has he missed out on a traditional lifestyle, marriage and kids, in service to this ranch? Is he, like so many, simply betrothed to the demanding, intoxicating lifestyle?
I'll never ask him, of course, but I'm curious.
"She likes to take care of you guys. You know how she—"
"What. The. Fuck is that smell? Who's eating without me?" Denny comes around the corner, a fistful of towel gripped near his hip bone. He wears nothing but that towel.
I clear my throat and look away.
"Go put on some clothes, Denny," Josh says, displaying his authority.
"I didn't know she was here," Denny grumbles as he recedes down the hall.
"I'm sorry about that, Miss—"
I stop him with a stern look. "I've seen shirtless men before. I've been to the beach." And I'm, you know, twenty-one years old. I'm not a child.
"Right." Josh smiles politely. "But you are the boss's baby sister."
"Right," I repeat. I just love how these men have slotted me into these roles my whole life. Boss's daughter, and now that Wes has taken over the ranch from my dad, the boss's baby sister. "I sure am." I return his polite smile. "Enjoy your dinner. You can bring that dish back whenever you all are done with it." I slide from Cowboy House, kicking up dust as I make my way to the green grass lawn in front of the homestead.
Someday, everyone is going to have to stop seeing me as the little girl who used to run around here barefoot, and start seeing me for the woman I've become.
We'rein the backyard at the homestead, the late afternoon sun tucked behind the tall pines, when Wes and Dakota appear around the side of the house. Wes wraps me in a hug, very familial and a tad reserved. He'd move a mountain for me, but we're not super close. I was only a few years old when he shipped out, and most of my early memories of him include seeing him when he came home for R & R. His wife, however, is a different story. I adore her.
"Jessie, what a nice surprise." Dakota kisses my cheek, her baby bump pressing into me. She's not far along, about fifteen weeks, but she's already bigger than last time. Colt lopes past, going as fast as his almost two-year-old legs can carry him.
I jump in front of him and he startles when he sees me, stopping short and wrapping his arms around my legs. I run my hand through his dark hair, the exact color of Wes's, and he looks up at me. He is his father's son, almost like God pressed a 'Duplicate' button, except for those eyes. A perfect mixture of brown and green, hazel eyes that are clear and bright and full of mischief, just like Dakota's.
"Yeah, I thought it was time to visit." I pick up Colt, holding his wriggling body suspended in the air, and plant a kiss on his forehead. "Hi buddy," I say loudly, wincing as soon as I do it. I set him down and he darts around me. I scrunch up my face and blow out a breath. "I'm sorry," I say to Dakota, opening my eyes. "I know better than that."
She shrugs. "It's okay. It's natural, Wes and I have done it a hundred times. Believe me, if a raised voice is all it takes to make him hear better, his hearing would have repaired itself by now."
