“I am not controlling! I’m just trying to tell you how I felt tonight!”
“It’s a stupid way to feel!” she snaps, and I’ve had enough.
“Okay. If that’s how you think, then I can’t talk to you right now.” I shake my head and walk out.
Chapter 2
Jesse
Cody and I are waiting in the airport to pick up our clients that we’re taking out tomorrow for the first day of duck season. Dad’s getting older, so Cody and I have taken over most of the guiding the last two years or so. He still comes out with one of us, or he’ll take a small group of two or three out. Mason helps out when he can but being a cop full-time takes first priority.
“They better get in soon. Lexie’s going to be pissed if I’m late,” I say, looking at the time on my phone.
Earlier this week, we got into an argument about her outward personality toward men in the bar. While we didn’t come to an understanding that same night, the following day we worked it out. She’s going to take it down a notch and I’m going to try to trust her more, knowing she just has an outgoing personality.
“Not much you can do. She’ll get over it.” Cody shrugs, crossing his tattoo-covered arms together and sitting back in the chair.
“And that right there is why you can’t keep a girlfriend,” Isay.
He scoffs. “Kept Bree just fine.”
“Yeah, up till your wedding day. Good job.” I pat him sarcastically on the leg, and he laughs.
“You know that was not my doing.”
I nod knowingly. “I know.”
The twelve guys finally get off the plane. We stand at the baggage claim and wait for them to get their stuff. Learning everyone’s names and attempting to remember them is not something we’re good at but we try.
We get back to the property an hour and a half later. As we drive down the driveway, we stop along the way to give a small tour of the property. When we get to the end where the big house is, they file out and follow us inside, walking past the dining room where they’ll be eating all their meals and then straight back to the kitchen. Mom and Addison are cooking the first dinner of the season. The traditional pot roast with mashed potatoes, gravy, roasted carrots, salad, and some type of dessert.
Cody starts, “This is our mom, Maureen.” He gestures her direction. “She’ll be feeding y’all three times a day so you treat her with respect. If you don’t, we’ll have a problem.”
Mom smiles warmly. “Just let me know if there’s anything you can’t eat or allergies. Breakfast is at five, lunch is sorta grab and go, and dinner in early season like this is between seven and eight,” she informs. I watch them all nod in understanding.
“And this is Addison,” I add, holding out my hand toward my sister. She hates the introduction part of this. She’s shy, not one for attention, but she steps out from standing behind Mom and waves. “She’s helping feed you all just as much, so don’t get on her bad side,” I add, her cheeks turning slightlyred, but she laughs along.
“Great to meet you all!” Mom adds.
“Alright, now we’ll head down to where y’ all will be staying.” Cody cuts through the chatter and we all file back out toward the van to head to the lodge.
* * *
I’m in one of our pit blinds with five of the hunters who got in yesterday. Cody and Dad are out at another spot with the other seven.
They have two dogs with them, Enos and Cletus. I just have Rosco—can you tell we’re big fans ofThe Dukes of Hazzard? My dad had us watching that fresh out of my mom’s womb. He won’t admit it, but I think he wanted to name me after Uncle Jesse. Our last three dogs were Bo, Luke, and Daisy. The next three dogs we get are already set to be Boss, Hogg, and General. Addison wants to get a female and name her Lulu, but that’s not the best call name for a hunting dog.
“Good boy.” I give Rosco a rough pat on his head when he finishes bringing back all the ducks we just dropped. He jumps back into the pit blind, sitting down right beside me like he’s supposed to.
Training the dogs is my dad’s job, but he let Cody and me take the reins with Rosco just to see how we’d make out. Cody quit about three days in; he has nowhere near the patience my dad or I do. That’s one trait I definitely inherited. Dog training requires a lot of it—it can be intense. It isn’t just about yelling commands or tossing out a few treats; it takes consistency, discipline, and a ton of time. You can’t get too frustrated, even when the dog makes the same mistake ten times in a row. Roscotested me plenty, but he’s turned out to be one heck of a dog.
I glance at the hunters as they reload their shotguns and talk among themselves. Rosco is sitting still, his eyes locked on the horizon, waiting for more birds.
Rosco’s ears perk up first, a sign something’s coming. One of the hunters nudges me, pointing out in the same direction.
“Geese,” he says, and a flock of at least fifty are coming our way.
“Okay, get ready, guys. Here they come,” I say. The hunters start shifting, checking their guns and adjusting their positions. Rosco stays still beside me but his body is shaking with excitement. My heart starts to pound as they come in closer. It doesn’t matter that I’ve done this thousands of times, the excitement is still a high every time.
