17. Kennedy
CHAPTER 17
KENNEDY
T his was a mistake.
We’re not even thirty minutes into the drive, and I’ve already given him more information than anyone else I’ve crossed paths with since the marshals were killed. I take a deep breath. Get it together, Kennedy. This man could be your enemy if he ever finds out the truth.
“How about you?” If I redirect the conversation, maybe we can move past the awkward silence at my clipped answer.
“What about me?” he asks.
“You were obviously born and raised here in Texas, but you left to join the Army. What made you return?”
“This is home,” he replies. “I love this town and the ranch. Coming home was always part of the plan.”
“What about the traveling you do now? I don’t know much about it except that you were off saving the world. Do you still do contractor work for the government?”
Something in his gaze darkens. “Something like that,” he replies.
More awkward silence.
Both of us have walls, and neither of us seems willing to let the other see what’s behind them. “Did you go to college after the service?”
“No. Never felt the desire to spend time behind a desk.”
“Had enough of it by graduation, then?” I ask.
He laughs. “Never had to. We were homeschooled our whole lives.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it was great. We got to do our schoolwork in the first part of the day, were done by lunch, then spent the rest of the afternoon running around like wild children on the ranch.”
I smile. “Seems we have some solid ground, cowboy.”
He glances over at me and arches a brow. “Oh, yeah?”
“I was homeschooled too,” I tell him honestly. “Both of my parents worked from home, so we got to spend a lot of time together.” My throat burns with emotion, and I try to swallow down the fresh wave of pain.
“Eventually, if I get lucky enough that God blesses me with a family, I’m hoping I get to offer my kids the same type of life I had.”
His words tug at my heartstrings.
If God is truly listening, I hope He grants Bradyn his desires. I may not know him well, but if anyone deserves a family to love, a wife to hold, and children to raise, it’s this man right here.
“I’m sure it’ll happen for you,” I tell him with a soft smile. Then, after a few more moments of awkward silence, I clear my throat. “Well, this conversation got heavy. How about something lighter? Do you like music?”
“I do.”
“What kinds?”
“Country, but I listen to a lot of Christian rock, too.”
“Christian rock? That’s a thing?” I ask, arching a brow.
His grin would’ve knocked me right down if I’d been standing. “You ever heard of Skillet?”
“I know what a skillet is.”
Leaning forward, he grabs his phone from the cup holder and tosses it to me. “Code is 0214. Unlock it and open up the music app. It’s the top playlist.”
With everything needed for the barn rebuild ordered and on the schedule to be delivered tomorrow, our task list for the morning is done. It’s definitely bittersweet knowing this outing is nearly over, even though every moment I spend with Bradyn Hunt, I like him more. What’s not to like?
He’s handsome, strong, smart, and I watched him quite literally load a bunch of stuff into the back of an elderly woman’s car when he saw she was struggling.
Which means we might as well go ahead and add kind to that list, too.
We haven’t spoken a whole lot since stopping to eat, though, and the silence is deafening. “So Skillet is a cool band. I never would’ve thought Christian rock was a thing.”
He laughs and plucks a fry off of his tray. “They’re my favorite. Saw them in concert a few years back. Elliot and I were in Lubbock, and they had a show, so we popped in. Was a great show.”
“That’s awesome. I’ve never been to a concert. Hope to go one day, though.”
“Really? Never?”
I shake my head. “I was relatively sheltered.”
“Well, maybe we can go one day. I’d love to see them again.”
Does he realize he essentially just asked me out? Or was it just a friend thing? Either way, my heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with him, even as the pit in my stomach reminds me it’s impossible. “Maybe.”
“Do you have any siblings?” he asks.
“What?” That sick feeling returns.
“You know all about my family. I was just curious.” He eats another fry.
“Um. No. I had a friend who was like a sister, but she isn’t with us anymore.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. You and your family all seem really close,” I reply. “Even Lani.”
He grins. “Yeah, we’re all a tight-knit bunch. Though my brothers do tend to drive me and each other crazy from time to time. Lani handles us all effortlessly.”
“I definitely get that feeling. She’s great.”
“She is. Our lives got immensely better after she came along.”
The way this family loves each other makes my heart ache for the knowledge that I’ll never have that. If I’m ever lucky enough for this nightmare to end and I end up getting the chance to have a family of my own, I’ll never get to take them to where I grew up. They’ll never see where their mom came from or have grandparents on my side they get to be spoiled by.
My heart sinks as my throat burns with emotion. Bury it, Kennedy. It’ll do no good now. “Well, this is the best burger I’ve ever had.” I pluck another fry from my tray and eat it.
“I always stop here on my way back from the lumber yard because no one makes a burger like Earl.” He turns and waves at the man standing in the window of the food truck.
He waves back then returns to prepping an order for two people standing near the trailer.
“What’s on the plan for the rest of the day?” I ask curiously, hoping it’s something I can partake in too. The idea of returning to the ranch and going our separate ways is less appealing than it was just this morning.
“I’m going to take a look at everything they got done at the ranch then head over to Piney Hill to see what I can do to lend a hand.”
“Do you guys always do that? Just offer help whenever it’s needed?”
“We do.”
“Why?”
“It’s what God calls us to do,” he says simply. “We’re supposed to serve others.”
“That simple.”
“That simple,” he replies. When I don’t immediately respond, he finishes eating another fry then asks, “You seem skeptical.”
“I am. A little. I didn’t grow up in church, and the idea that there’s a greater purpose to all of this seems a little far-fetched to me.”
“Why is that?” There’s no judgment in his tone, just genuine curiosity.
“I don’t know. There’s a lot of bad stuff that happens in this world. I’m sure you saw some of it when you were overseas. Doesn’t really fit the idea that we were all created and are loved, does it?”
He’s quiet a moment, clearly processing what I said. Then he wipes his hands on a napkin and takes a drink of his tea. “There were moments where I thought to myself, ‘Why is He allowing this to happen? Why not stop these things from ever taking place at all?’”
“Exactly. How can you continue to have such faith when the world is full of so much darkness?”
“Human nature is to sin. We live in a world that’s full of it, and the further humans get from God, the worse it gets.” He sits up straighter on the bench seat of the picnic table we’re sitting at. For a moment, the only sound around us is the steady buzzing of the propane heater beside us. “But every time I’ve gone to God in prayer and asked Him why these things were happening, I have the same verse pop into my mind, along with this overwhelming sense of peace in the knowledge that, one day, there will be no pain.”
“What verse?”
“Proverbs 3. ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding,’” he replies. “We will never be able to fully understand or comprehend God’s plan for each and every one of us. But there is a plan. Sometimes we must suffer, but in that suffering, we find a well of faith we never knew was there. God is in everything; we only have to seek Him.”
“It just seems out there,” I reply. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean that to be offensive. I just— Things have happened in my life that made me feel very alone. And I’m not sure how to open my heart to that.”
“Pray,” he replies. “Open your heart to Him, and He’ll lead you where you need to be.”
“That sounds too easy to be true.”
He chuckles. “I can promise you that there’s nothing easy about it. But it’s certainly worth it.” His cell rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket and puts it on speaker so he can eat another fry. “You’re on speaker,” he says. “What is it?”
“You seen the news yet?” Elliot questions through the phone, his tone frustrated.
“No. Why? The ranch make headlines?”
“Something like that. I was surprised to see that you let her talk to Sharon.”
Bradyn sits up a bit straighter, his expression darkening ever so slightly. “What do you mean? Who?”
“Sammy,” he replies. “The two of you are all over the front page.”