Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
JENSEN
Everything is quiet.
It rained for the rest of the night, but everything is settled now. Over the horizon, the sun creeps above Sovereign Mountain in the distance. I step out onto the porch with a cup of coffee in both hands. Behind me, Jon appears, still wide-eyed from the night.
“Congratulations,” I say.
“Thanks,” he rasps.
Della, Julie-Mae, and the midwife are upstairs with Delia and her baby boy, Toby.
Landis and Julie-Mae dropped by to see everybody before heading out to work.
I’ve never seen anybody more stressed than Jon last night, but he held it together, never cracking once.
Now, he takes a deep breath and lets his shoulder sink.
“Feel useless in there?” I ask.
“Yeah, kind of,” he admits. “I like being able to fix things for her, but I couldn’t really do anything.”
“She’s all good now,” I say, handing him a mug. “And now is your time to shine so she can rest.”
He nods, eyes narrowed as he looks out. He looks like a Reed, tall and wiry with dark hair. Quiet, unassuming, and happy to sit in silence most of the time. He’s a good balance to Delia’s bright personality and quick wit. The little boy upstairs looks more like a Childress, but time will tell.
“I hate to say it,” Jon says, “but we still have to run the fucking cattle to the lower pasture.”
“Yep, that doesn’t wait for anybody or anything.” I drain my coffee, scalding my mouth in the process. “Why don’t you stay here today and I’ll bring in some help?”
He nods, clearly grateful. “Thanks. I think we’re about to pack up and head to the hospital, just to check everybody out. I’d like to be with them for that.”
That, I can understand. When Delia was born, I found myself constantly worried about leaving them.
My wife has always been fine on her own at the ranch house.
I’m more worried about anyone who tried to mess with her.
At that point, she’d have shot first and asked questions afterwards.
But there was something so vulnerable about Della with a baby so young, she couldn’t leave her for even a moment.
That made me want to stay in from work, so I know exactly what he’s feeling.
“You go on inside,” I say. “I’m going to walk over the hill to the house.”
“That’s an hour’s walk,” he says.
“I don’t mind.”
He stands at the top of the porch steps and watches me go.
Neither of us say anything, both just glad everyone made it through the night.
I walk, head down, until I hit the path worn by cattle that cuts over to my ranch.
Then, I glance up and have to take a beat to soak in the sun breaking over the hills.
Sovereign Mountain is a shadowy rise in the distance.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen Westin and Sovereign. Well, a couple of weeks, but for a tight knit community in the middle of nowhere, that can feel like a long time. Maybe Della and I will have them over for Sunday dinner at some point soon, when the dust settles.
I shoot a text over to Deacon. He sends one right back, saying he’s already in his truck, heading to South Platte, and he can meet me at my house.
I walk back alone, soaking in the silence.
His truck is already in the drive when I move through the dewy grass.
It’s touched with the first hint of crisp fall.
We’ve got a lot of work to do before winter hits.
It’s the never ending cycle of living out here, intertwined with the elements.
There’s a certain ability to bend with the turning of seasons, a grace that weathers the strongest storm.
After every brutal season comes a mild one.
It feels a bit like what I found with Della—a constant forgiveness again and again for all the scars we carried.
My boots crunch on the gravel. Deacon rolls his window down.
“Congrats,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say, taking my hat off and pulling open the passenger side.
“Get in, old man. Let’s get moving.” He jerks his head.
I slide in, and he’s pulling out, heading up the long drive that leads to the back pastures. I’ve got the horses in the barn up there in anticipation of needing to move the cattle. I glance behind us and realize Gage is in the back, flipping through his phone.
“Hey,” I say. “I got a bone to pick with you.”
He glances up, freezing.
“Jesus, the fuck did you do now?” Deacon says, running a hand over his face.
I sit back, looking ahead. “You know he was going out with Julie-Mae?”
“I did not,” says Deacon. “When did that happen?”
“It’s not,” says Gage. “We just went out a few times for coffee. We’re not a thing.”
“Oh, so you’re just messing around, huh?”
“No, sir.”
“Better not be.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what?”
He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing for him to explain what he thinks he’s doing.
Deacon doesn’t intervene. He just waits, thumb tapping on the wheel.
That’s his way of raising his sons; he’s gentle, but he’s pretty firm about his expectations, and he doesn’t shield them from confrontation.
“I was just hoping to go out with her,” Gage says finally.
“And then what?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“You like her?” Deacon interjects.
Silence. I glance in the rearview to find him looking out the window.
God, he really looks like Deacon, just without all the ink on his neck and head.
But I know that’s a matter of time. It’s already covering one arm and fast creeping up his neck.
It’s not the ink or the attitude he inherited from his father that bothers me.
It’s that I was young once, and I know how confusing life is, how easy it is to get hurt.
I was hurt so badly. All I want for my kids is that they don’t feel the same.
“Yeah, I do,” Gage says finally.
I glance at Deacon, but he’s just waiting for my reaction.
“Why don’t you date her proper?” I say. “Come by the house, pick her up.”
“I thought you wouldn’t approve,” he admits. “And she was afraid you wouldn’t like it. Didn’t want to talk to you about it.”
That catches me off guard. I’ve always been patient with my kids, but we’re open and honest with each other.
Della isn’t the type to bottle things up, so she had a rule that there was no silent treatment in our house.
If someone had an issue, they had it out right then, no doubling up the punishment by dragging things out.
I liked that approach just as much, but it resulted in some knock-down and drag-out fights.
I hope Julie-Mae isn’t scared of me. That would break my heart.
Nobody says anything else until we’re up at the west barn. I park, and we get out, working quickly to get the horses saddled up. Then, we’re off, riding over the fieldgrass to the ridge overlooking the upper pastures.
Gage pulls the gate open, and we ride through, locking up behind us.
I check over my shoulder, just to make sure it’s shut.
It was years ago, but Landis left a gate open once, and it was an epic disaster, cattle strewn all over the county.
Since then, I doublecheck everything, because there’s no chance I’m fucking doing that again.
“You been up to Sovereign Mountain recently?” I say as we loiter by the fence.
“Yeah, there last night.”
“How was it?”
Deacon shrugs. “Same old. It’s a big operation, and it operates pretty damn good. Westin and Diane were over. I was dropping some shit off for him. I guess they’re heading into the city for a week.”
“Why’s that?”
“Something to do with underground rights for a piece of land they got last year, I think.”
“Off Carter Farms?”
“To the south of it.”
I jerk my head, vaguely recalling something about that.
I spend a lot of time shooting the shit with Deacon and the boys from Sovereign Mountain, and I forget half of what they say before the dust has settled from their truck tires.
Now, if Westin had me put up a house on said land, I’d remember every detail.
“We gonna get moving?” Gage asks, trying to keep his horse from taking off.
He’s on a feisty mare from Ryder Ranch that didn’t make the cut for sale. Every damn time we take her out for roundup, she stirs up some shit. Deacon and I are on pretty experienced geldings today, so I’m hoping that keeps her cool.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Deacon says, shifting his weight.
We head down the hill in a puff of dust. The longer we’re out here moving the cattle, the hotter it’s getting.
By the time we break, my shirt is soaked through, and all I can think about is getting home for dinner.
I have my doubts Della will be back tonight, which means it’ll be just Julie-Mae and me.
Back at the main barn by the house, we cool down the horses and put them up for the night. Deacon’s talking about something, asking if I can come by next week to help transport some horses. I say that’s fine and stand on the porch, watching as they head off.
My phone pings. A text from Julie-Mae appears.
Picking up dinner tonight. See you soon.
I smile—Julie’s a good kid, even the wild parts, the stubbornness she came by honestly. In the empty house, I shower all the dust off, pull on some sweats and a shirt, and go down to make a little coffee. Everything is a little too quiet.
The door bursts open, and I hear her kicking her boots off. She appears, hair windblown, a big take-out bag in her hand. It smells good—not the way Della’s cooking does, but I could use something that’ll stick to my ribs tonight.
“Got some food from the pub,” she says.
“That’s perfect,” I say.
She drops it on the table along with her bag. “Gonna get changed.”
“Julie,” I say, making her pause. “Come here.”
Hesitantly, she comes closer, and I pull her in for a hug.
At first, she’s stiff because that’s just Julie-Mae.
She’s never been mushy or emotional. Everything is a joke until it’s not, and then she’ll break down and cry but won’t acknowledge it the next day.
I stroke the top of her head as she eases up, wrapping an arm around my torso.
“You okay, Dad?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say. “I just don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me.”
She’s quiet. Then, she sniffs. “I’m not afraid.”
I pull back, brushing her hair back. She looks up at me with Della’s dark eyes. “What then? Gage said you didn’t want to.”
She chews the inside of her cheek.
“I just…don’t want to mess things up between us and Ryder Ranch if things don’t work out,” she says finally. “You’re really good friends with Deacon, and it would suck if I dated Gage and we had a big falling out.”
I’m looking at her hesitant face one second, and then the next, I see her clearly, in ten years time. She’s found somebody just as wild to be with. She’s married, but she’s not settled down, and she’s enjoying every second of it.
“I don’t think that’ll happen,” I say, clearing my throat.
She goes quiet. Then, her gaze darts up. “Did you just know when you met Mom that it was going to be forever?”
“No,” I say. “I don’t believe in that.”
Her brows rise. “Wow, that’s really romantic.”
The percolator is bubbling hard. I release her and flip it off then take down a couple of mugs. Julie-Mae accepts one, holding it out while I pour.
“Your mom and I are really similar people, we were compatible, and had chemistry. But I also made a choice the minute I thought I could have a chance with her.”
“So you don’t think you’re soulmates?”
“Depends on what soulmates are I guess.”
“I can see how she was really swept off her feet,” she says dryly. “Very romantic.”
“I’m not romantic,” I agree. “But I did show up.”
“How do you mean?” She takes a sip of coffee and grimaces. I always make it stronger than she likes.
“I mean, whoever you pick is gonna see you through a whole lot of shit someday,” I say. “Life’s got a lot of bad in it. Make sure it’s somebody who can ride all the ups and downs with you.”
She lowers her cup slowly, biting her lip. “Do you think Gage is like that?” she whispers.
“I think with the parents he’s got, he’s got the best chance of anyone at hitting all the marks,” I say carefully.
The corner of her mouth turns up. “Is that you giving me your blessing?”
“You don’t need it, you’re a grown up,” I say. “But if you want it, here it is.”
This time, she hugs me, and I hold her to my chest, remembering how small she was when she was born, just a tiny little thing with a set of lungs that shook the house.
I took one look at her and told Della she’d be the troublemaker of the family.
And that’s alright—I wouldn’t trade her for anything.
She’s perfect the way she is, and Gage better see that, or I will kick his ass into the next county.
“Alright,” she says, wriggling out of my arms. “I’m gonna get changed so we can eat.”
She disappears upstairs. I break open the bag and set battered fish and fries onto two plates. By the time she gets back, everything is laid out. She sinks down into her chair.
“So I can really date Gage, for real?” she asks.
“You really can.”
She smiles then wipes it off her face so she doesn’t lose her tough reputation. “How’s the baby?”
“He’s good. I called your mom on the way home. Everybody’s doing well.”
We sit in silence for a while, just eating. Finally, she looks up with a frown and sets her fish aside.
“Will you make tartar sauce? Yours is always better than mine.”
I dust off my hands. “Sure thing.”
That night, it takes me a while to get to sleep.
Not because I’m troubled, but because I’m starting to make peace with this chapter of life, and that’s a lot to think about.
Of course, Della was right when she said I’m struggling a bit with Julie-Mae starting to date and maybe with becoming a grandparent. It’s a lot of change all at once.
Maybe, deep down, I never expected to have a life this good, and I’m hanging onto it with both hands.