My stomach tightens at the thought of seeing Jessie again. A couple hours ago I was concocting ways to see her, and now I’m rehearsing my apology.
My tires spin over the road, and I scan the sights. One side of the road is grass, more yellow and brittle-looking than it should be, and the other nothing but trees. Somewhere along this road, my mother lost her life, and I don't even know why she was traveling it.
My stomach turns over as I drive on, and I think back to the way the kitchen used to be when Wildflower was the Circle B. My mother had a dish for her coffee creamer in the shape of a cow, and it mooed when tipped. The center of my chest cracks at the memory. Even an aged wound can break a heart anew.
I'm nothing less than grateful when I see my turn ahead. I make the right, going beneath the large metal sign declaring this theHayden Cattle Company.
The unpaved road kicks up dust, so I ease off the gas. The homestead looms in the distance, and the sheer fact I can see it clearly from here speaks to how large it is. Like a river system, there is a road that veers off from here, going left, and a hundred feet up, another road that snakes right. Both roads trail off into the pine trees and disappear.
The homestead grows in size the closer I get. It's made of rich, reddish-brown wood and stone, with big stone columns lining the front. The roof is dark gray, a stone chimney jutting up into the sky. A few trees dot the front yard, and a walkway leads from a makeshift driveway up to a small set of stairs.
Trucks bearing the HCC logo are parked haphazardly out front. I come to a stop and add my SUV to the mix. Like my attire in this town, it looks out of place.
The front door is massive, a knocker in the center I'm positive is meant to look intimidating. It's doing its job. I'm sufficiently intimidated.
I knock three times and wait. The door opens, and there she is, the doorframe dwarfing her.
Not Dakota, like I'd expected, but Jessie. Her hair is damp, framing her face and a little wild, and her eyes are bright. She's heartachingly beautiful.
She grips the door. “Dakota told me you were coming over," she says, slightly out of breath. She shifts her weight and cocks her head. "Are you good?"
The back of my neck heats. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Jessie. You caught me at a bad moment."
"I gathered that," she says slowly. She steps back to allow me into the house. "Come on in."
I step inside and out of the way of the door as Jessie closes it. She leans against it, looking up at me. She wears a white tank top tucked into tight jeans. Bare feet. Her toenails are painted red. My eyes scan her body slowly, and I know she’s watching me. When I make it to her face, I take in her warm, blue eyes, and she waits for me to say something.I like how you let me drink you in.
The corner of my mouth pulls away, contrite. "I'm sorry." My voice is low. "I owe you an explanation—"
"You don't owe me anything. But I'll listen if you want to talk about it."
I open my mouth but hear my name from somewhere in the house. Dakota walks into the room. "Sawyer?" She looks from me to Jessie. “I take it from the way you ran from the room when he knocked on the door that I don’t need to make introductions?"
I look down at Jessie, my lips coaxed into a smile by this small revelation.
She smirks. "We've met before. I was on a ride. He was coming from Wildflower and we crossed paths."
Dakota nods slowly. "Right. Okay. Well, Sawyer, everyone is this way."
I halt. ”Everyone?"
Her lips press together in apology. “I was kind of hoping you could show everyone a few signs. When I told my husband you’d agreed to help us out, he said it’d be great if Colt could communicate with his family. I hope you don't mind."
She looks genuinely worried I’ll say no. It must be hell to worry for your child the way Dakota worries for Colt.
"Of course not," I respond, smiling politely. I don't usually feel nervous in front of people, but nerves are bundling in my stomach. Must be the Hayden effect.
Jessie touches my forearm, and my attention swings back to her. Curiosity rages in her eyes.
"I've learned two things about you since I woke up this morning." She holds up a finger. "For one, you know ASL."
My eyebrows lift. "And two?"
"Something hurt you. Way down deep." She taps the center of my chest with two fingers. "In here."
Emotion catches in my throat, snagging on words I should be saying to her. All I can do is swallow the way I feel at the sight of the tenderness in her eyes and the warmth from her touch.
I tear my gaze away. Dakota waits patiently, and when I start in her direction, she peers around me and sets her sights on Jessie. Her eyes communicate something, and I bet Jessie is talking back, using this silent form of conversation.
