37. Winnie
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
winnie
If heaven exists, I think it might begin somewhere like Stetson Ranch.
Mornings hit differently here, the sky stretches wide and endless like it was made just for this place.
Sunrise spills color across the land in soft pinks and golds, the kind of colors that don’t look real.
There’s no noise, no horns or sirens—just a deep quiet that resets your soul.
The animals are still, the world at rest, and for a few perfect moments it feels like nothing bad has ever happened here… and nothing ever will.
Danger and Fisher are playing catch in the field. PJ and I are on her porch, overlooking the ranch. I drop into the furthest rocking chair. Benson Bone, their family dog—flops at my feet and lays his head on my shoe.
PJ hands me a cup of coffee and settles in beside me, her chair set to a slow, hypnotic rock. For a while, we just sit. I sip my coffee, tracing the rim of the mug with my thumb.
She finally says, “I’ve noticed that look in your eyes lately. I’m thinkin’ you finally met the real version of my boy.”
I tighten around the mug. “I don’t think most people really know him at all.”
PJ sighs, not like she’s disappointed, but like she understands.
“You know what people get wrong about Danger?” She tips her chin toward the horizon, the light catching the lines on her face.
“Town thinks he was born like that. All grit, rough. But he wasn’t.
He was made that way. My fault, and his daddy’s. ”
She glances at me then, sharp and soft all at once.
“You probably heard the stories. I tried to get their father to leave a dozen times. Cops would show up and say he had every right to be here, that this ranch was half his.” Her thumb runs up and down the handle of her mug.
“He was always real good about not leaving marks on my face, you see. Hurt me in other ways. I blacked out a lot of that.”
The sun paints the porch gold, and I watch as Fisher runs after a ball he missed. I want to look at PJ, but I can’t.
“The boys,” she says, “they were always hiding in their room. Listening. Scared to death. Danger used to put his brothers to bed and stand in front of their door with a baseball bat. Just a skinny little thing, but mean as hell when he had to be.”
“That’s—” I start, but the words clot in my throat. That’s awful. That’s more than I can stand to picture. I try again. “I’m so sorry you all were put through that.”
PJ gives a little snort, waves it off. “Life don’t deal everyone a good hand, sugar. But Danger stopped being a boy too early. And he never went back. He was so damn young.” She shrugs, as if to say maybe she wishes he had more time to be a child.
I stare out across the acres, the land so impossibly big and empty and loud all at once. My eyes sting, but I won’t let myself cry in front of her.
PJ takes a long sip, then slaps her knee. “But you see that?” she says quietly.
Fisher shouts something across the yard, and Danger laughs as he throws the ball high, making him jump for it.
“He didn’t used to smile that big. Not really.” She leans back in her chair, the wood creaking. “Danger always loved that boy more than life itself, but you always felt the weight he had on his shoulders everywhere he went.”
She glances at me.
“But after you.”
My throat tightens.
“Now look at him.” She gestures toward the yard again. “Laughin’. Playin’. No guard up.” PJ nudges my boot with hers. “You did that.”
“I didn’t?—”
“You did,” she says firmly. “You walked into his life and started fixin’ things you didn’t even break.”
My chest aches a little at that.
She studies me for a moment, her expression turning softer than I’ve ever seen it.
“Winnie,” she says gently, “I’m mighty glad you’re in our lives and that you didn’t get taken from us that day.”
My eyes sting.
She nods toward the field again.
“And you picked the right person for you.”
Danger throws the ball again and Fisher catches it this time, jumping up and down like he just won the World Series.
PJ smiles, pride and something deeper shining in her eyes.
“And whether you know it or not,” she adds, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. Fisher, too.”
I look back out at the yard. Danger catches the ball and glances toward the porch.
When our eyes meet, something warm spreads through my chest.
Home.