“I… I was concerned,” I defend myself. “And it’s a good thing I was, because Hank was ready to disown her.”
“So?” Jesse shrugs. “Dad threatens to disown me twice a week. Three times if I forget to close the gate.”
“This is different. She could lose everything.”
“Or,” Boone says slowly, “she could gain everything. Something that actually makes her happy instead of just existing in her dad’s shadow.”
“You don’t know that we make her happy.”
“Did you see her last night?” Jesse asks incredulously. “That was the face of a very happy woman.”
“That was the face of a very satisfied woman. There’s a difference.”
“Not as much as you think,” Boone mutters.
I start pacing, trying to organize my thoughts. “Look, I’m just saying we need to think about what’s best for her.”
“What’s best for her?” Jesse’s voice goes dangerously quiet. “Or what’s best for you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re scared. You’re terrified of actually feeling something, so you’re trying to sabotage this before it becomes real.”
“That’s not?—”
“It’s exactly what you’re doing,” Boone interrupts. “You did the same thing with Sarah. And Katie. And that girl from?—”
“This is different.”
“Because it’s Callie?” Jesse asks. “Because she’s a Thompson? Or because for once in your life, you actually care about someone?”
“I care about not ruining her life!”
“She’s a grown woman who can make her own choices!”Jesse shouts back. “She doesn’t need you to protect her!”
“Someone has to!”
“Why does it have to be you?” Boone demands. “Why do you always have to be the responsible one, the one who ruins everything good?”
“Because someone has to think!” I roar. “Someone has to consider the consequences! Someone has to?—”
“Someone has to pull the stick out of your ass,” Jesse snaps.
We’re all breathing hard, staring at each other across the barn like we’re about to throw punches. This is what I was afraid of, that Callie would come between us, split us apart.
“She’s a cool girl. She’s worth a complication or two,” Boone says quietly, breaking the tension. “Whatever happens, whoever gets mad, whatever we lose... she’s worth it.”
“You barely know her,” I argue, but even I can hear how weak it sounds.
“I know enough,” he says. “I know she makes me laugh. I know she’s brave enough to stand up to her dad and the whole town. I know she looks at us like we’re people, not just McCoys.”
“And I know,” Jesse adds, “that last night was the first time in ages I’ve felt like myself. Not Dean McCoy’s son, not the troublemaker brother, just... Jesse.”
They both look at me expectantly, waiting for my usual big brother rebuttal. But the truth is, I felt it too. That freedom, that possibility, that sense that maybe we could be more than what everyone expects us to be.
“This is going to end badly,” I say finally.
“Probably,” Jesse agrees.
