Considering he knew good and well she didn’t like hunting, camping hadn’t crossed his mind as an activity she would’ve liked for much more than the marshmallows and the chance to make him miserable. “Too far, Lou-Lou,” he warned.
She shrugged. “Worth a try. You’re being mean.”
“Not mean to tell you what you need to hear,” he said, but he had to force it, because he didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t like feeling like an old man either. “Time I was your age, I had a job lined up and I was putting everything I had into doing my best every day. Like Daddy taught me to.”
“Daddy raised you better than to go to Alabama.”
“Daddy raised me better than to let you grow up worthless.”
Her eyes started their heavenward supplication, but he nudged her foot. “You’re not worthless,” he said. “But you’re working on it. Gotta pull yourself together, Louisa. Get your grades up. Work at something for once.”
“You’re a jerk,” she said.
And then she spun and was gone, headed away from him, away from camp, and away from the creek.
Well, tarnation again.
He was working on being useless himself.
Not much a man could do after that but sit himself right back down and wait for it all to blow over.
Took two hours. Two long hours of sitting with his dog, flinging a halfhearted line into the creek, debating with himself over the wisdom of going to talk to Anna, but eventually Louisa showed back up, looking for all the world like nothing was wrong. “I’m hungry,” she said, “so I’m gonna go up to camp and get myself some food.”
Still felt like dangerous territory there, but he went with her.
And when they returned to camp, Jackson realized he had another problem.
“Is that a label on the fire pit?” Louisa asked.
Kaci and Lance were polishing off some cold fried chicken at the picnic table. From what Jackson could tell, the only thingnotlabeled were their foreheads. Anna was nowhere in sight.
“Plum tuckered herself out.” Kaci nodded at the tent. She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “Strained her thumb doing all that typing, then her label maker overheated. Good thing it was her spare.”
“Weirdo,” Louisa said.
Jackson glowered at her. She stumbled back a step. “Um, lunch. I’m hungry.”
“Might want to take yours back down to the creek,” Lance said to Jackson. He seemed to only half-imply that Jackson might get some make-up nookie. The other half warned he might want to dig out some Kevlar instead.
“Yep, you go on,” Kaci said. “We’ll keep a good eye on baby sister here.”
Louisa opened her mouth, but twin looks ofdon’t do itfrom Kaci and Lance had her snapping her trap back shut. Sheshoved a couple of bags at Jackson. “Chicken and biscuits?”
The vortex of festering, seething indignation surrounding the tent gave Jackson the impression he wouldn’t be having any milk to go with those biscuits today. Probably not anytime this week.
Maybe even again this century.
This was the normal part of a relationship where he should’ve been glad she had an excuse to give him what-for so he could pull his dumb redneck routine, wish her well, and let her walk away liking or disliking him as she saw fit.
Instead, an old burning sensation flared up in that dark, hidden place deep in his gut that tended to show only when he’d lost something.
Like his daddy.
He was having too much fun with Anna to lose her now.
Yeah. Fun. It was all about the fun. And there was his daddy’s chuckle rattling around inside his head again, but this time, it had a wry twist to it, the kind Daddy used to make when he was watching Jackson dig himself deeper and deeper in a mud pit.
He looked back at the angry-woman force field surrounding the tent.
