Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Chesney
It feels like we’ve been holed up in this office for months, like I’m going to step outside and forget what fresh air smells like. In reality, I think we’re only on hour eight of day two, but even that’s excessive. I knew this was going to be a tough project to tackle, but goddamn.
We are so close to being done.
There’s one more box to go through, and we almost missed it completely.
It’s hidden behind a handful of folding chairs by the window that overlooks the ranch.
I drag it free, surprised by how much heavier it is than it looks, especially for such a small box.
I examine the outside, looking for any sort of label as to what’s inside, but come up empty.
“What’s this?”
Jasper lifts his gaze and shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
The cardboard looks older than everything else. It’s worn and fragile, like it hasn’t been touched in decades. Not wanting it to completely fall apart in my hands, I quickly place the box on the desk and pop open the lid.
“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath as I take in all the letters inside.
There’re dozens, maybe even hundreds, and they’re all bound together with faded ribbon.
I pull one free carefully. The paper is yellow with age and crackles as I unfold it.
The letter is handwritten with beautiful penmanship. This definitely isn’t a ranch document.
“Who’s it from?” Jasper asks, moving closer to get a better look.
My eyes drop to the signature at the bottom of the page, and then I freeze again. “Uh, you might wanna sit down.”
Jasper narrows his eyes. “Why?”
Handing him the letter, I watch as he reads the signature and immediately goes still. Then he glances at me, hands the letter back, and shakes his head.
“That don’t make no damn sense. Why would that be in here?”
I grab another and read it. Then another…and another. My stomach drops further with every page because it’s very clear what these are. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
Looking up, I meet Jasper’s eyes, then hold up letter number three. “Your grandfather.”
His expression hardens, and I think he has an idea of what I’m about to say. Based on his next question, I’d say he doesn’t want to believe it. “What about him?”
I swallow thickly, my heart suddenly pounding out of control. This is insane… Actually insane. “Jas, these are love letters.”
I’m met with nothing but silence. Long, completely stunned silence. His jaw pops as he grinds down on his molars. His nostrils flare with every heavy exhale. Jasper blinks once… Twice… Then he shakes his head like he’s trying to clear his mind.
“Sorry. What?” I hand him the paper, my pulse throbbing as he reads it. Slowly, his eyes widen and his brow furrows. “No.”
Wincing, I nod. “Oh, yes.”
Jasper grabs another letter from the box and reads it in its entirety before shoving it into my chest and grabbing the next one. This goes on for a while, and somehow, each letter is worse than the last. Or, better, I guess, depending on perspective.
Finally, he huffs out a breath and looks at me. “There’s no fucking way.”
I point toward the signature on bottom of the page. “You tell me.”
Jasper’s grandfather’s name stares back at us.
The ink has bled a little bit, and the handwriting isn’t as great as the other signature.
But still, it’s legible. Clyde Smith. Grabbing another one we’ve already read, I slam it onto the desk in front of him, my finger landing beside the second signature.
Helen Jennings. Neither of us speaks. I don’t even think we breathe.
Because there’s one explanation—only one—and it’s absolutely insane.
“My grandfather…” Jasper starts, his voice low and quiet.
“And my grandmother…” My heart is in my throat as my eyes scan the faded, old pages again, one right after another, until I can’t stand to look anymore. Clyde Smith and my grandmother... “They had a fucking affair.”
“Look at the dates,” Jasper murmurs. “This went on for years.”
My brain struggles to catch up. An affair. A years-long affair.
What…the…fuck?
“If this is actually true…” I hardly recognize my own voice. “If this is true, that means the feud, the rivalry, the decades of anger and bitterness and separation… All of it’s because two people couldn’t keep their hands off each other.”
“Oh my god. I’m gonna be sick.” Jasper drops into his chair, eyes wide open, eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He looks horrified as he runs his fingers through his hair. And I don’t blame him. It’s exactly how I feel. “This can’t be real. It just can’t. There’s no way.”
We sort through more of the box and, unfortunately, it is real.
The evidence is all right here, wrapped in a neat little bow.
Years’ worth of letters, full of promises, declarations, plans.
This is the kind of love story that would’ve made small-town gossip explode if it got out.
Which, apparently, it never did. If anybody knew about this, they took it to the grave.
All these years. The hatred. The pain. And neither family even knew the actual reason anymore. They just inherited the anger, passing it down like property.
Jasper leans back slowly, looking shell-shocked.
I probably look the same. Then he does the last thing I expected from him…
He laughs. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s ridiculous.
Because what else are you supposed to do when you accidentally uncover a secret big enough to destroy entire families?
Soon, we’re both laughing, utterly stunned, while sitting in the middle of an office buried beneath upwards of sixty years of secrets.
“My dad’s going to lose his fucking mind,” I say, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck.
“Your grandmother literally caused a generational blood feud.”
“Hey.” I point accusingly. “So did your grandfather.”
Jasper snorts. “Fair.”
Then we’re laughing again, harder this time.
And for a few minutes, that’s all there is.
Just us, the letters, and the realization that our families had spent decades hating each other over a love story nobody bothered explaining.
They spent decades hating each other over infidelity that had nothing to do with them.
Eventually, the laughter fades, and the room goes quiet again. There’s a heaviness that settles between us.
Jasper picks up one of the letters and reads part of it. Then shakes his head and looks at me. Something shifts in his expression. His eyes are soft, steady. “I guess they couldn’t stay away from each other either.”
The words hit hard—harder than they should—puncturing something in my chest. My throat tightens and my pulse thunders.
The way he’s looking at me isn’t helping.
The office suddenly feels too warm, too quiet, too small.
It’s suffocating, and dangerous. But then I clear my throat and look away.
That’s much safer, even if part of me knows we’re both thinking about the exact same thing.
By the time we finish sorting through the letters, it’s nearly midnight. The office looks significantly less like a disaster zone, and my entire understanding of my family’s history has been shattered.
I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. “So.”
Jasper snorts. “So.”
Neither of us knows what to do with this information.
My grandmother and his grandfather—years of letters, of lies, of loving each other enough to destroy two families in the process.
It’s too much to wrap my head around. It’s absurd, and heartbreaking, and maybe even a little romantic, if I’m being honest.
My head is a mess.
“I should probably head home,” I say softly. “I’m fucking beat.”
“Me too.” Jasper groans dramatically, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m taking my ass to bed as soon as I eat something.”
“We should’ve ordered a pizza,” I murmur. My stomach growls right on cue. “The idea of finding something to make at the house is miserable.”
Standing, Jasper lifts his arms over his head again, and my brain immediately betrays me. His t-shirt rides up, just a sliver, but it’s enough for me to get a peek at his tanned skin, the way his muscles flex, and especially, the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his jeans. My body warms.
Jesus Christ. Get it together.
I really should be anywhere but right here, looking at Jasper Smith the way I am. Nothing good will come of it.
“Thanks for helping,” he says after a minute.
I wave him off. “You don’t need to thank me. Having this room more organized will benefit me more than you once the dude ranch is up and running.”
“That may be true, but I’m thanking you anyway.”
I lift my gaze. The sincerity in his voice takes me by surprise. “You’re welcome.”
A comfortable silence settles between us.
It feels like a warning, because comfortable is how this started nearly twenty years ago.
It’s how two boys ended up becoming best friends despite every reason not to.
And how those same boys gave themselves to each other under the full moon sky.
Comfortable is dangerous when it comes to Jasper Smith.
My stomach growls loudly again, cutting through the quiet.
Jasper chuckles, his smile lingering. But then it fades, and my pulse goes wild. “Why don’t you just pop by my place real quick and eat.”
“Huh?” My eyebrows shoot up.
“I got some leftover roast from last night,” he offers with a shrug. “It’ll be easy to reheat, and it’s probably more filling than any sandwich you’d throw together at your house.”
My chest squeezes.
Obviously, it’s a bad idea. It’s late, we’ve spent the entire day around each other, and discovered things we were never meant to see.
Our heads aren’t on straight, and neither of us are thinking clearly.
It’s late, we’re tired, and we should part ways and go to bed.
Separately. In our own beds. The last thing I should do is go anywhere near Jasper’s house.
Matter of fact, this office in the barn is already closer to his place than I should be.