“As good as Jameson?”
Van hated that question. It had her thinking of all the ways Jameson treated her right. Cooking meals for both of them, rearranging his schedule to be with her, planning weekend getaways—to a secluded cabin with all the amenities, to a luxury hotel—getaways that followed her rules of no contact with anyone else in Bronco.
“Okay,” she muttered darkly. “The man’s a real prize. So far. But that doesn’t mean he would stay that way if I hung around.”
“What it means is that you need to give the guy a chance.”
“You know how many times you’ve said I should give Jameson a chance?”
Callie scoffed. “Not enough times, apparently. Because you’re still not hearing me.”
“Oh, but I do hear you, loud and clear. I hear you and I simply refuse to go there. I will not give my heart again and end up getting it back in pieces.”
Callie seemed to be running out of steam. She gave it one more valiant push. “Truly, Van, you know you have to keep trying. Not all men are like your dad and those other four losers whose names I don’t even want mentioned ever again. You’ll never get what matters if you give up now.”
“Then I’ll never get what matters.”
Callie let out a dejected little moan. “You are just making me so sad.”
Van took both her hands. “You are the best friend ever. I love that you’re trying so hard to convince me to do what you think is right. It just, well, it isn’t right for me. And I have to do what works for me.”
Callie hung her head.
Van pulled her close in a hug. “Thank you. I mean that.” She took her friend by the shoulders and held her away enough to capture her gaze. “Now, can we stop talking about this. Please?”
“All right.” Callie gave a weary nod. “I’ve said what I needed to say and you’re still dug in. I give up. Have it your way.”
Callie kept her word. Over the next few days, she never once mentioned Jameson.
Too bad Van thought of him constantly. And she remembered everything Callie had said, damn it. She couldn’t stop thinking of all the ways he’d shown her how much he cared. And she couldn’t stop missing him, stop reaching for him in the middle of the night.
But she didn’t take her friend’s advice. She stayed away from him. Her fear of getting hurt again had more power than her longing to make things right.
On Wednesday, the third day after Vanessa dumped him, Jameson woke before dawn to the sound of the doorbell ringing. He almost pulled the covers over his head and went back to sleep, but it was time for him to get up and get to work, anyway.
The doorbell chimed again as he stuck his feet in his jeans, zipped up and pulled on an old Grizzlies sweatshirt. “I’m coming! Hold your horses!”
With Slim at his bare heels, he headed for the door.
It was his mom. “Hey.” He put on a smile. “You’re out and about early.”
She folded her arms across her middle and tilted her chin high. “Chicken-fried steak tonight. It’s your all-time favorite, and I am frying it up for you. We never see you. Tonight you are coming for dinner. Be there. Six o’clock.” She didn’t wait for a reply, but turned on her boot heel, ran down the steps, jumped into the old pickup she often used around the property and drove off.
He didn’t want to go. He just wanted to work and be left the hell alone. But once roused to action over one of her children, Mimi John wouldn’t quit. If he didn’t show up tonight, she would march back over here, Dawson and Maddox in tow. And when she ordered his brothers to drag him bodily to the main house right this instant, they would do it, no questions asked.
Bottom line on this issue: he would end up at dinner with the family whether he wanted to go or not.
He went. At least he got chicken-fried steak with country gravy and buttery, light-as-a-cloud mashed potatoes for his trouble.
All three of his siblings showed up. Charity sat next to him. When she thought no one was paying attention, she whispered, “Everything all right, big brother?”
“Sure. Yeah. Fine.”
“I should talk to her...”
He looked at her dead-on. “Don’t.”
She gave him the sad eyes, but she left it alone after that.
