Jenna cupped Willow’s cheek in her palm and smiled sweetly. “You know that the reason your brother and I do what we do—fostering kids, especially siblings others deem too old to adopt—is because of what happened to you and him.”
Willow nodded, her throat growing tight as her eyes burned. “They were good people,” Willow admitted, unable to keep the tears from falling. “They loved me and treated me like their own, but a part of me never forgave them for splitting up Colt and me. All those years apart when he was bouncing in and out of Child Services.” She shook her head. “He won’t even tell me about it, which means it’s probably worse than I imagine.” Willow sniffled. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over that.”
Jenna nodded, then pulled a pack of tissues out of the tote bag slung over her shoulder.
“Thank you.” Willow let loose a soft sob as she accepted the offering.
“The hurt that you will always feel for your brother is not unlike the hurt he’ll always feel for you after what happened with Ash four years ago.”
“But he doesn’t know…” Willow began but then let her voice trail off. Colt didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t know that Ash tried—at least, Willow wanted to believe he tried—to make things right. But that didn’t matter. He was her brother, and he loved her and would do anything to protect her from getting hurt like that again. “Right,” she continued. “I get it.”
Jenna grabbed Willow’s hand and gave her a soft squeeze. “If there is one thing you can rest your heart on, it’s that one of Colt Morgan’s missions in life is to make sure you never hurt like that again…evenif that means bitin’ his tongue and grittin’ his teeth while he watches you fall for a man he neither likes nor trusts…yet.”
A hen squawked inside the coop, and Jenna grinned. “Attagirl,” she said with a grin. Then she slipped inside the coop and returned with one of the hens under her arm. She set the chicken down in the grass and watched as she circled Willow’s feet, pecking a trail around them.
Willow laughed. “Lucy, right?” she asked, remembering the hen from the last time she’d visited her brother and sister-in-law. Though Willow hadn’t received such a greeting from the feathered friend back then.
“That’s right,” Jenna replied. “And that’s all I need to see to know that my girl hasn’t lost her touch and that this thing with you and Ash is the real deal.”
Willow’s brows furrowed. “I don’t follow.”
Jenna picked the hen back up and cooed at her like they were speaking their own language. “Lucy here is an expert at matters of the heart.” She held up a hand to ward off any protest, not that Willow could think of one at the moment. “I don’t like to share when it comes to Lucy’s…abilities…unless she’s in the midst of…ability-ing. Otherwise I might have people making demands of my girl to predict things she cannot predict. She can only call it when she sees it.”
Willow took a step back, suddenly yet inexplicably on the defense. “What does she see?” sheasked, not sure why she heard a tremor in her own voice.
Jenna waved her off with a grin. “That you’re inlove, sweetheart.”
Willow swallowed. “I’m not… I mean, I never said…”
Jenna kissed the feathers on top of Lucy’s head and then put her back in the coop.
“It’s okay,” Jenna assured her. “Even if you don’t know it yet, Lucy does.”
Except Willow had never said the wordloveto anyone other than her birth mother and Colt. Just because she was letting Ash back into her life didn’t mean that would—or could—change, not after her heart had been clobbered just for having the audacity tothinkit.
“She could be wrong, couldn’t she?” Willow asked. “I mean, she’s a goddamn chicken, Jenna. Just because she pecks at my feet doesn’t mean—”
“Hey…” Jenna interrupted, hands held up in defense. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought it would help you to know it was real.”
“I’m sorry.” Willow cleared her throat. “I know you’re trying to help. But I need to be able to trust Ash on my own.” She held her arms out, spinning slowly to take in not just the Murphy Ranch but all that Meadow Valley had become for Jenna and Colt. “I’m so happy that you and my brother got the fairy tale. I really am. But that doesn’t mean it exists for all of us.”
Jenna sighed. “You’re right,” she told her.
Willow’s eyes widened. “Wait… I am?”
Jenna took a step forward and placed her hands on her sister-in-law’s shoulders.
“Darlin’, if you are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, you’ll find a way to make sure it does.” She shrugged. “Lucy might be able to spot the real deal, but she can’t do your part of the job.”
Willow scoffed. “Which is what, exactly?”
“Letting yourself believe that you deserve the fairy tale just as much as the rest of us do.” Jenna nodded back toward the guesthouse. “Come on. If they were going to kill each other, they ought to be done by now.”
Jenna dropped her hands, turned toward the guesthouse, and started walking without giving Willow a backward glance.
What the hell did Jenna mean…believe she deserved the fairy tale? Of course Willow believed she deserved it. Why wouldn’t she? She was a good person, right? And good people deserved good things. So why were Jenna’s words crawling beneath her skin and seeping into her blood like a slow-acting poison?
Willow shook off the thought. Whatever happened between her and Ash was aboutAshproving that they were the real deal, regardless of whether a hen agreed with them or not.
