I couldn’t possibly have imagined the shit storm I set into motion when I opened that letter. My past had somehow caught up with me. I wanted to feel something—after all, the man was family. Family. That F-word had been the source of all the pain I’d suffered for as long as I could remember. I folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope.
Jenny Lee Myles watched me toss it onto the counter. “What’s the matter, Dillon?”
“Pop died,” I said in a flat voice.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to Pop since I left for basic training ten years ago—seven years in Afghanistan and two more in and around the VA Medical Center in Dallas, less than fifty miles from home. My exile had been self-imposed—too many bad memories.
“How did it happen?”
I shook my head to clear it. “What?”
“How did he die?” She studied me from her seat at the small kitchen table.
“It doesn’t say.” Probably drank himself to death.
“Did he know you were back in the States?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Y’all want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
The kitchen shrank, as if the flowers on the wallpaper had grown and pushed their way into the room. Jenny Lee liked to talk about things, something I hadn’t been able to do since my little brother, Luke, disappeared.
At first, I’d said plenty about the local police and their half-ass investigation. When people stopped listening to me, I left Bradley, Texas, and never looked back. I went to war, where I saw things that no one should see and did things that no one should do. A piece of shrapnel had sent me stateside during my second tour. Everyone wanted to know what I felt. Everyone except me.
“What else did the letter say?”
I squeezed the back of my neck. “Pop’s attorney needs me to go home and settle his affairs.”
“Like his funeral?”
The letter, postmarked two weeks ago and sent to a ten-year-old address, had finally found me. “It’s probably too late for that.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Going home, I mean.”
I stared at the floor. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
Not true. We always have a choice. Everything we do is a choice. I didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to making decisions, so I tried not to overthink this one.
Jenny Lee approached and rested her arms on my shoulders. “Do you want me to go with you?”
Her soft blue eyes felt more like home than Bradley.
“Thanks,” I said, “but I reckon I’d better do this myself.”
“Why do you think you have to do everything alone?”
The wallpaper pushed a little farther into the room. Jenny Lee had been hinting at moving in together, but each time I’d steered the conversation in another direction.
She sighed. “How long do you think you’ll be there?”
I shrugged.
Her eyes searched mine. “What is it you want, Dillon?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know.”
“No. Not this time.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I want an answer.”
“What we’ve got here is pretty great, right?”
“Maybe so, but where is it going?”
I shifted my weight to the other foot. “What’s your hurry?”
“I plan to move to Colorado at the end of the month,” she said and returned to her seat at the table.
I tilted my head and studied her as she waited for a response. “What?”
Jenny Lee leaned forward and folded her hands. “I wanted to say something sooner, but—”
“What’s in Colorado?”
“My dream.”
I waited for her to continue.
“When my Uncle Roy passed, he left his six-hundred-and-forty-acre horse ranch near Colorado Springs to me and my cousin Seth. We spent our summers there when we were young. I’ve always thought of it as my little piece of heaven.”
“You want to run a horse ranch?”
“I need to do this, Dillon.”
I took a deep breath. “What about me?”
Jenn smiled and shook her head. “Don’t be silly, y’all are comin’ with me.” Her expression fell. “I mean, if you want to.”
Relief sank in for just a moment before the air left the room. Our eyes met, and I forced a smile. I didn’t handle pressure well, or commitment, for that matter. I didn’t want to move. But Jenny Lee had saved me, and I didn’t know what I’d do without her.
“Well?”
“Of course that’s what I want. It’s just that…”
She folded her arms across her chest and waited for me to finish.
“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” I said.
“I’m a big girl. I reckon I can make my own choices.”
“Sure. If you have all the facts, but you don’t know everything about me. You can’t imagine what I’ve been through. All I’ve ever wanted was a normal life.”
“Normal lives are overrated.”
“Easy for you to say. Your mama didn’t run off. And your brother didn’t disappear. And your daddy didn’t spend all his time racing to the bottom of a whiskey bottle. I thought going off to war would have helped with the anger. It didn’t. Now I can’t even get through the day without medication.”
“You’re not the only one who’s had it rough. You think I had it easy growing up with three brothers? I became an outsider, outnumbered even before Mama died. I tried desperately to join their boys’ club, but nothing I did was ever good enough.”
I walked to the sink and filled a glass with water, then leaned back against the counter. Jenny Lee’s eyes burned with the intensity of blue lasers. I stared over the rim as I drank.
“Things change, Dillon. I can see that. Why can’t you?”
The muscles in my neck and shoulders relaxed. I set the glass down. Perhaps I’d been a bit selfish.
Her expression softened. “It’s time for us to write a new story.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Shouldn’t it be?” She met me at the sink and held my gaze as we stood toe-to-toe. “Come with me, Dillon. My dream is big enough for both of us.”
I couldn’t imagine what I’d done to deserve this woman. I held her chin as I kissed her.
After a few moments, she pulled back and raised an eye-brow. “You do like horses, don’t you?”
I smiled. “Do rocking horses count?”
“You mean to tell me y’all grew up in Texas and you’ve never ridden a real horse?”
“I wasn’t that coordinated,” I said ruefully, then grinned. “But I could fall off a bike with the best of ‘em.”
Jenn laughed. “I’m not sure what’ll be more work, runnin’ the ranch or teachin’ y’all how to ride.”
I felt a little better about what the future might hold for us. Maybe, just maybe, the light at the end of this long tunnel wasn’t another oncoming train.
“Okay, Dillon, I understand. Go home and do what you gotta do. You need closure. That life is over.” She sighed. “How long did you say it might take to settle things?”
“I didn’t.”
She waited.
“A week or two, I reckon. Believe me, I don’t want to spend any more time there than I have to.”
“Good answer.” The lasers sparkled like blue diamonds.
Unfortunately, the road to Colorado would have to pass through Bradley, Texas.
