Chapter 12 #2
“Oh, please. You’re walking around with a new pep in your step, and you were foolish enough to tell me about it. You must want me to be a little bit of a caveman about it.”
She thought about it. “Yeah. I guess I do. A little.”
Because while she had been a secret virgin, Flynn definitely wasn’t. So maybe she did like the fact that he might feel a little pleased about the way they had come together. Possessive even.
When he wrapped his arm around her and walked with her toward the staging area at the back of the arena where her family was standing, she felt small. Feminine and protected. Which was different from feeling lusted over. It was just different.
“Great show,” Flynn said.
“Thank you,” her dad said, clapping Flynn on the back.
She looked on, feeling uneasy for some reason. She knew her whole family couldn’t tell that she and Flynn had just had sex for the first time last night. In fact, they would assume that they had been doing it all along.
“We’re having a bonfire. You want to join us?” her dad said.
“Sure. If Jessie wants me to.”
“Of course I want you to,” she said.
Actually, what she wanted to do was squirrel him away from everybody so that she could have him to herself. But they hadn’t really discussed the particulars of when they would do it again, or where.
Maybe he would want to make rules. Maybe she would want to make rules. She didn’t really know yet.
Last night had opened up the door to a whole bunch of things she had never thought about before. And there was still the whole situation with West.
“Then yes. I’d be happy to join the bonfire.”
The crew always got together after the show, but she didn’t always join in. Tonight, though, it seemed especially appropriate.
Her mom popped her head out from behind the tall, painted fence. “Is this Flynn Wilder?” she asked, in that soft, monotone voice of hers.
“Yes, Mom. This is Flynn.”
“You’re her boyfriend?” she asked.
Cutting straight to the chase, also a Lucinda Hancock special.
“Yes, ma’am,” Flynn said.
She felt a little bit itchy about his lying to her mom, but she had started the charade. So she had no right to be testy about it. She knew that.
“That’s good. I think Jessie is lonely.”
“I’m not lonely,” Jessie said.
“You are,” her mom said, patting her on the shoulder.
“How are your crystals?”
“Great. I got three new amethysts. Now I have thirty-seven.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing them.”
“Okay.”
Then her mom abruptly turned away and went to sit in a chair near the blazing bonfire.
“That’s my mom. She’s … her.”
“I can see that,” he said.
“I love her. Very much. But …”
“What?”
“She couldn’t exactly teach me how to make friends.”
“Right. Gotcha.”
“Well, my dad couldn’t really either.”
“He’s a friendly guy,” Flynn said.
“Oh, he’s a very friendly guy. But whether or not you can actually know him is something else entirely.”
“Well, this is pretty great, though,” he said, gesturing to the gathering around the fire.
“It is,” she agreed readily. Because it was. As unorthodox as it was, this was her family. Some of the performers had been with the show since she was a child, and even the newer ones were friends she worked with every day. She wasn’t lonely.
Her mom was wrong about that. She had taken steps to remedy her loneliness, and she had done a damn fine job of it, thank you.
She wasn’t lonely.
West came by and thrust beers into her and Flynn’s hands. “If you survive this, then you might actually have the fortitude to become one of us.”
“He’s not taking my last name,” Jessie said.
Flynn guffawed. “Okay. Austin is being pretty cool about all of this, but that would be a bridge too far for him.”
Jessie laughed. “Yeah. I can just imagine.”
And what scared her was how real it all felt. That she knew Austin, that it made her feel a little warm with affection because he was still so prickly about his brother associating with a Hancock.
“What did you think of the shoot-out reenactment?” West asked.
“It’s an impressive stunt. I’m not like my brother. I don’t have a chip on my shoulder about all that.”
“No,” West said. “Your chip is about your sister being mayor.”
Flynn forced out a hard laugh. “Yeah. That would be the one.”
“Well, we all have our things.”
Her mother drifted over to their group and put her hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “Did Jessie tell you about my collections?”
Flynn smiled. “She did.”
“Oh, good. They’re very important to me. I can tell you about them.”
Jessie wanted to put herself between Flynn and her mom. She wanted to protect her mom from Flynn’s judgment. Why hadn’t she done a better job of explaining her mom?
“I’d love to hear about them. Every single one.”
He didn’t miss a beat.
West took Jessie’s arm and moved her slightly away from that conversation. “Well, he’s pretty great.”
“That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about another person.”
“I don’t see people do a lot of nice things. But … anyone who can jump right into Mom’s collections …”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry I ambushed you with the stuff about me leaving.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Me too. Why didn’t you tell me? And what is your plan?”
“I have money, Jessie.”
“From where?”
“Investments. Farm futures. I’m good at it.
Some of the guys who ride for the rodeo are into that kind of thing, and when we started doing events, I started talking to them about it.
I started taking all the money I had and investing.
I have enough now to buy my own ranch. And that’s what I want to do.
I don’t want to stay here. I have … I’ve actually put in an offer on a plot of land. ”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“We don’t talk about that kind of stuff. We just shove it down.”
“Well … that’s how we get by. But a big change like this …”
“Jessie, come on. You know growing up here was … not ideal. It didn’t do either of us any favors.
And the only reason I stayed for as long as I did was …
to protect my family. You and them. Everything.
They can’t survive out in the real world.
Can you imagine? If Mom and Dad had to have nine-to-five jobs?
If I didn’t make him pay his taxes every year, he wouldn’t.
He would forget. They live in another time, or in a made-up place in their heads—I don’t know. ”
“Yeah. And we’re their kids. So why should we have to … Never mind.”
“It’s a very good point. We shouldn’t have to. But we have. Always. Some of it’s not their fault. They did the best they could. They did. But some of it …”
“I love them,” Jessie said.
“Me too. A hell of a lot. They’re our parents. And I can’t say that I would trade them. But I also know that I’m not fixing to live my whole life in a carnival.”
“I didn’t realize,” she said. “I mean, I always knew that you didn’t love this. You don’t … You’re not necessarily the kind of person who enjoys all this attention.”
“No,” he agreed.
“But I didn’t realize you were doing it to protect them.”
“I was. And no, I never did as good a job as you did. I couldn’t organize all this stuff.
I can’t sit still that long. I can remind Bill to do his taxes, but I sure as hell can’t do them for him.
But … I don’t know. Forgetting things and being disorganized has made me extra careful.
It doesn’t seem to have done that to Dad. ”
“No. I would say not.”
“Ranching is something I can do. And I’ll be happy doing it. It’s not a desk job, but it’s one that will keep me busy. And I’ll probably continue to invest.”
“I had no idea you did that.”
“It’s like a video game.”
“With real money.”
“Yeah. But there are patterns … You just have to pay attention. And sometimes you have to be ballsy. But I’m good at both.”
Her brother was not always good at paying attention. Unless he was really, really interested in something, and then he could focus on it forever. Apparently, finance focused him.
She wanted to be happy for him. But she just felt … sad, that he hadn’t told her. Weird that things were changing.
Well, she was changing them, honestly. But she wasn’t leaving.
“You don’t have to stay forever,” he said.
“But I’m good at this.”
It came out small and kind of sad.
“Jessie, you’re good at a lot of things. Look at you. You organize this place. You really keep it moving. And on top of that, you’re running for office.”
“I know. But … if I don’t keep everything together for them, then who will?”
“They can hire somebody. When we were kids, we didn’t have any choice but to live here. We didn’t any choice but to participate in all this, but we have a choice now.”
“I didn’t know that you … I mean, when we were kids …”
“I’m older than you. I wasn’t going to complain to you. And yeah, we had a lot of freedom. So there were certain things that it felt silly to complain about. But it was … it just wasn’t our choice.”
He wasn’t wrong. And when she was younger, she would’ve given anything to have a life that was more stable.
More normal. She had figured out a way to cope.
But what did she actually want? For her life?
For her future? She was running for mayor because she cared about Rustler Mountain—that much was true.
She wanted to do right by everyone in town.
She wasn’t running just to poke at Danielle.
Petty revenge wasn’t enough. It also just wasn’t her.
Maybe she wanted to prove that she was smart.
That she could fix things. That she mattered.
But she also wanted to actually do the fixing, so that had to matter for something.
“We’ll just see how everything goes,” she said.
“You might win,” he said.
Her stomach swooped. “Maybe.”
“But whatever happens, you have him.”
Except she didn’t actually have Flynn. Although, she had had Flynn. And now she couldn’t imagine … It was difficult to imagine life without him. At least in some capacity. Maybe they were friends now. Maybe.
Her mom walked away from Flynn rather abruptly, which was just how her mom was, and Flynn turned toward her and West. “Great bonfire,” he said.
“Just wait until my dad starts telling stories,” she said. And she kind of meant it.
They sat down in lawn chairs near the fire and made s’mores. Her dad started telling tall tales, Western myths and legends.
“You want to go back to my place?” he asked when she yawned. “Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that.”
It felt right. His place tonight. She could spend the night. And she could see his bedroom. The idea thrilled her.
“When you’re ready,” he said.
“Oh, I’m ready,” she said. “Drive me back to my place. So that I have my truck. I’ll follow you over there.”
He looked a little bit reluctant to do that, but it was just common sense.
“All right.”
They said goodbye to everyone at the bonfire, but they didn’t talk as he drove Jessie to her truck.
She got in and started the engine.
She didn’t play any music on her way over to Flynn’s. She just replayed everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
And it seemed more like a movie than real life.