Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Jasper
As if today couldn’t get any weirder, I’m standing face-to-face with a very pissed off Chesney Jennings, his ocean-blue eyes narrowed as he watches me.
When I left the attorney’s office and made the decision to drive over, I didn’t know Chesney would be here.
Hell, I don’t even know the last time he was in town.
Every version of what I planned to say—what I rehearsed in the truck—is gone.
My stomach clenches, and my tongue feels too big for my mouth.
Truett steps onto the porch beside him, but that part doesn’t surprise me.
Truett is always here. He’s the Jennings son that stayed.
The one who kept things running when everyone else didn’t.
His eyes narrow slightly, but not with the same bite Chesney’s got.
It’s something else—recognition. Understanding.
“Jasper,” he murmurs.
I tip my hat toward him. “Truett.”
We don’t shake hands—we don’t need to, because there’s history there too. Not the kind our families talk about, but the kind built over fence lines and long days and agreements no one else knows of.
“What’s going on?” he asks, looking from me to his brother, who hasn’t moved an inch.
Holding up the folder that feels like it contains a bomb, I explain, “My grandfather’s will was read this morning.
” Somehow, I’m able to keep my voice neutral.
This is business, I tell myself, as neither of them says a word.
Shifting my gaze to Chesney, I clear my throat and swallow thickly.
“He left Wild River Ranch to both of us.”
Nothing but silence follows, the words hanging in the air like a foul smell.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chesney spits out after a long, tense moment.
“He left my family’s ranch to me…and to you.”
“Yeah, I fucking heard you, but that doesn’t make a lick of sense. Why the hell would he do something like that?”
“Beats me,” I huff. “Equal shares. But there’s a condition. Neither of us has the right to sell or transfer ownership of the ranch for one year.”
Chesney lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath, shaking his head. “That’s not— No. That’s not happening. What a ridiculous thing to do. Your grandfather was out of his mind.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But he was also very clear. We have to run the ranch together for a year before either of us can sell.”
His eyes snap back to mine, and his expression hardens. “I’m not doing that,” he says firmly. “I’m only here for a few days. Whatever this is, it ain’t my goddamn problem.”
For some reason, the finality in his tone hits harder than I expect.
Not because of my grandfather or the ranch, but because of the way he says it.
Like it’s easy. Like none of it means anything.
And I get it… Chesney doesn’t owe me or my family.
But having known and lived next door to the Jennings family, I know he needs this as much as I do, even if he doesn’t realize it.
“This isn’t optional,” I say. “If you walk, you lose your share.”
“Good. I don’t fucking want it.”
Truett shifts beside him. “Chesney—”
“No,” Chesney snaps. “I don’t want nothing to do with that place. That’s your family’s business. Not mine. I want no part in anything your grandfather construed. He made a fucking mistake.”
That place.
The venom in his words makes my stomach drop. I should’ve expected this—I did expect it, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
I should let it go. Should take the easy out and let him walk. I’d figure it out on my own; I always do. But I can’t, because he doesn’t understand what’s actually on the line.
“Can you just hear me out for one second?” I ask, my voice tightening despite my best effort to keep it level. “The ranch is barely holding on. If we tried to sell it right now, we’d get nothing for it.”
Chesney doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at me. I can practically see the anger rolling off him.
“If we work it for a year—fix the fencing, rotate the pastures, rebuild the herd, bring the numbers back up—then it’s worth something again.
” Still nothing. I force myself to take a deep breath, pushing through the frustration building in my chest. “At the end of the year, I buy you out,” I say softly.
“You walk away with more than you’d get right now. A lot more.”
That gets his attention. His eyes flick up to mine, and for a split second, I see something in his gaze. Something that looks a hell of a lot like being cornered.
“No,” he finally mutters.
“Will you at least consider it? I know what that kind of money could do for your family. I know how expensive medical bills can be. How easy it is to feel like you’re drowning in them.”
Chesney rears back like I physically struck him, his eyes hardening and his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck out of here with your fake sympathy and concern. You don’t know the first goddamn thing about what my family needs.”
My gaze slides over to Truett before coming back to Chesney. “I kind of do.”
“Fuck you, Jasper,” he bites out. “The answer’s no. I won’t say it again.”
Then he turns and walks straight past Truett into the house like none of this matters. Like I don’t matter. The door slams hard enough to rattle the frame, and even though I knew it was coming, it startles me anyway.
Exhaling slowly, I stare at the closed door while silence settles over the porch. “Well, that went well,” I mutter under my breath.
Truett chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.”
I drag a hand over the back of my neck. “How was I supposed to know he’d be here?”
He studies me for a moment, that same stern look on his face. “Bet your uncle’s thrilled,” he drawls.
“Oh, over the fucking moon.” I snort.
“I wanna say I’m surprised your grandfather did this, but…”
“But he’s an ornery, hard-headed old man, even from the grave,” I finish for him with a chuckle.
The two of us stand here for a second, the weight of it settling in. Different families, same mess. It’s how things have always been. The Jennings-Smith feud has been alive for longer than I’ve been on this planet.
“I’ll talk to him,” Truett says. “Once he’s had a minute to cool off.”
Nodding once, I say, “Something tells me he’s gonna need more than a minute.”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah, I know.”
I pause, then nod toward the house. “How you holding up in there?”
His jaw tightens, and there’s a far-off look in his eyes. The weight of everything he’s carrying is evident in his dark circles. “Dad’s doing okay,” he says. “For now.”
I nod. News travels fast in Sweet Briar, even when people pretend it doesn’t.
“If you need anything…” I trail off.
Truett gives me a look, then nods. “I know.”
And he does.
For all the history between our families, and the lines we’re supposed to stay behind, there are some things that don’t fit into the decades-old rivalry anymore.
Like long days fixing fences that run between our land, or storms that don’t care whose property it hit first, and years of crossing paths just enough to understand each other without ever saying it out loud.
Truett and I aren’t friends—not officially, at least—but we’re not strangers either.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, nodding toward the house. “About him and this…situation.”
I glance back at the door, at the space where Chesney disappeared, and my chest clenches all over again. I didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect any of this. The will. Chesney being back in town. None of it. And now that it’s happening, there’s no way this stays simple.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Let me know.”
Truett heads inside, leaving me alone on the porch.
I linger for longer than I should, memories of this place from when I was a kid running through my mind.
But then I heave a deep sigh and step off it, my boots hitting dirt that’s too familiar for a place I was never supposed to belong.
Everything just got a hell of a lot more complicated, and for the first time in god only knows how long, it’s not just my family’s ranch that’s giving me a headache…
It’s Chesney Jennings too.