“Are you still thinking about them?”
“Yes. I am. Because how can you be in the same room as your family, and they don’t even talk to you?”
He let out a husky laugh. “That’s sort of an encapsulation of my entire childhood, actually. Never knowing when they were going to include me, or when they weren’t. But … I don’t wonder anymore. Not really.”
“It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“No. It hurts. But it’s an old wound. And all too familiar.”
“Well, I think it’s stupid. That they treat you that way.”
“Thanks.”
“You were the person in the room I wanted to talk to most of all. I’d never ignore you.”
“Thanks, Jessie.”
“I’m glad we’re … friends.”
“Friends?”
“Hey. I’ve never had a close friend before. Not really. Will you be my friend?”
She felt like she had really put herself out there. It wasn’t a declarationlike the kind that had been hovering in the back of her mind earlier. But it was still a lot. Certainly more than she had ever asked of another person before.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice scratchy. “I’ll be your friend.”
“Oh good. I’m really glad. Because I’m a lot happier with you in my life.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, but then his hand covered hers. “Me too.”
That was going to fuel her for a long while.
Chapter 16
I understand more things about men than I’d like to. But the one thing I never learned was how to let one love me. What a foolish thing, to have found someone good and to feel like the one thing standing between myself and happiness is that I simply don’t know how to hold love in my hand.
—Belle Martin’s Diary, February 1870
The town was abuzz with excitement about the election, which was rare. Because usually it was a mere formality. This time, there was the potential for exciting change on the horizon. Flynn certainly felt changed. He could never have imagined willingly going to this craft-fair thing under any other circumstances. But now he was unpacking campaign merch from his truck, and ferrying it over to Perry’s booth so that Jessie Jane could put her makeup on before things got started.
“You’re very supportive,” Perry said, patting him on the arm as he placed a big sign on the outside of the booth.
“You don’t have to say that like it’s surprising.”
“It’s not surprising. I mean, if Carson can get ahold of himself, you certainly can.”
“I appreciate that you think I’m a little bit less messed up than Carson. That I could get my stuff together this many years sooner in my life.”
She laughed. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
Of course, he thought Perry might be reading too much into the situation. Jessie was his friend. She’d said that to him a couple of weeks ago right after the debate, and he had decided he liked the term a lot. Because it meant this wasn’t just a temporary thing that would automatically stop at the end of the election. But it also meantthat it was something manageable. Something he had experience with. He knew how to be a friend. So he was being friendly.
Jessie appeared a moment later, in all her cowgirl glory. She looked up at him with large eyes, lifted her hands, and started to shake them out. He grabbed hold of them and held her still for a moment, his gaze holding hers. “You’re good,” he said.
“The election is so close.”
“Yes. And you have done everything you possibly can do.”
