Chapter 27
Jesse
Istood on the porch with Cole and Mr. Whitaker, watching the other lawyer drive off, gravel thrown up behind him.
“Well, that should shut Mack up,” Mr. Whitaker said with a sigh. “Unless he wants the entire town to find out the real reason he’s never had a wife.”
“Isn’t that sort of blackmail?” I asked, surprised a lawyer of all people would suggest such a thing.
“Is it?” he grinned. “Or is it just leverage?” He raised a hand, heading down the porch steps. “Have a good evening y’all. And I’ll be out in two weeks for the monthly report.”
He left us standing in the blue dusk, the porch cold underfoot in that interval between snowmelt and true spring.
Cole was still for a long time, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
The muscles in his jaw didn’t relax until the taillights vanished around the last bend.
The silence between us wasn’t tense. It was tired.
Maybe even sweet, in the way some afternoons are sweeter for being nearly over.
“I can’t believe it,” Cole said. “All that shit for nothing. For pride.”
I stayed quiet. It wasn’t for nothing, and we both knew it. Small towns spin on secrets kept until they rot and Hell Creek was no different.
“I should have known,” Cole muttered, more to himself than me. “Dad was always so damn loyal to his friends. Even the ones who didn’t deserve it.”
He looked at me, then away, the way he always did when feelings slipped through. I thought I might touch his arm, tell him it was over, that he could rest. But I didn’t.
Instead, I drew out the envelope Whitaker had handed me.
Pale yellow. Heavy with the last words of a man who’d raised neither of us but still shaped everything we’d become.
Cole’s was already opened, never sealed to begin with.
But mine was shut tight. I slipped a thumbnail under the edge and split it, the paper making a sound like a match being struck.
The porch was full of shadows now. I read the letter anyway.
Jesse,
I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father to you. I realize now that when your mama died, that was all you had left in this world. And I was so wrapped up in my own feelings, my own grief, that I couldn’t see yours.
So I don’t blame you for leaving. Hell, I don’t even blame you for punching me. I deserved it for what I did to you.
In some ways, I’m glad you left. Not for my own sake, but for yours.
Your mama and I both knew you were… different.
The kind of different that make places like Hell Creek hard to live in.
Lord knows I’ve had my own struggles in that same way.
Even though I loved your mama something fierce, I still had feelings that I wanted to chase.
And your mama, the saint she was, accepted that with all the grace and support she could. She was a better woman than I deserved.
But you got out and judging by what Mr. Whitaker has been able to find out about you, it seems like you’ve lived a good life. You got a college degree, a good job, and from what I’ve seen, you’ve become a damn decent man. You made both your mama and me proud, so don’t forget that.
Now we come to the part I’ve been dreading.
I’m dying.
There’s just no nice way to say it. I’m not long for this world, Jesse, but I wanted to talk to you one last time.
I think when I first started writing this letter, I was thinking I wanted you to come home, to see you one last time.
But now… well, let’s just say I think it’s best you remember me how I was.
But I do have one last thing to say to you.
While I don’t blame you for leaving and I don’t blame you for being upset with me, I think you did Cole a disservice.
That boy… well, he takes after me in more ways than one.
I can see how he’s inherited my pride, my stubbornness, and my…
preferences. He’s always been so quiet and stoic, but when I look at him, it’s like I’m looking in a mirror.
I know you two fought a lot growing up. But there came a time, when you were both in high school, that I realized things might be shifting between you.
I’m not sure you noticed, but Cole was getting mighty protective of you, and not just in an older brother sort of way.
When I brought it up to your mama she just shrugged.
I don’t think either of us knew what to think.
But we weren’t worried either. If anything came of it, then it was fine.
You two never wanted to be stepbrothers, anyway.
Maybe I’m out of line here and maybe you don’t feel that way about Cole. But that boy loves you. I can see it in his eyes whenever I mention your name.
So, if you and Cole accept the terms of the will and things get more… involved… just know you have my blessing. And your mama’s. All we ever wanted for you two was to be happy. In fact, that’s all I ask. Find some happiness in this world, Jesse, and hold onto it as tight as you can.
Love Always,
-Jack
That was all. I folded it up once more and put it away.
When I looked up, Cole was sitting on the steps, his own letter across his knee. Head down, hat in his hands. The backyard was dark. Somewhere along the creek, a coyote yipped.
I went and sat beside him. The sky had gone that strange violet between sunset and true night, a color so beautiful and lonely it made you want to keep breathing just to see what happened next. I listened a while to the wind and the frogs. Neither of us said a word.
I reached over and took Cole’s hand. He didn’t pull away. Just held on, his fingers rough and cracked from fixing fence all spring, but gentle as anything when they twined up with mine.
“Do you want to know what it said?” I asked, my voice quiet as the creek below.
“Probably the same as mine,” he replied, tossing his letter onto the step. “That dad knew a lot more about us than we thought.”
He gave a short, crooked smile, and there was some relief in it, maybe even a faint hilarity at how hard we’d both tried to keep secrets that were clearly never just ours to keep.
I thumbed the letter in my pocket. “He said not to waste time regretting. Just… find happiness where we could. That he was proud of us. Both of us.”
Cole exhaled a long, slow breath. “He said that to me, too. Told me not to fuck up the best thing that ever happened to Nelson Ranch. Or to myself.” He let out a shaky laugh. “Guess he meant you.”
I leaned over, bumping his shoulder with mine, and for the first time in my life it felt easy. Possibly even natural, almost. Spring air and the scent of thaw and new grass. My own hands didn’t tremble anymore.
We sat there until the night went full black. Cole rested his head against my shoulder eventually, and I felt the old grief for Jack soften around the edges. He was gone, but he left the two of us with the gift of honesty, even if we’d taken the long way to get there.
After a while, Cole said, “Do you think people will ever stop talking?”
I shook my head. “Not until all the old-timers are dead. Not even then, probably.”
He grunted, but I could tell he liked the answer. There was a strange pride in it, like we could outlast them all if we just kept moving forward.
“Tomorrow we need to check the western fence,” he said quietly, after some minutes. “If the water’s up, it’ll wash out all those new posts.”
I almost laughed. “You never miss a beat, do you?”
He shrugged. “Life doesn’t stop just because there’s rumors in town.”
He was right of course, the talking would never stop, but I grinned anyway. We sat a bit longer, neither of us moving to go inside. The world felt different, like maybe it owed us tranquility after the last storm.
“You know, you’re still not off the hook,” I said at last, holding his hand tight.
“For what?” he balked.
“For fucking disappearing for two days, Cole,” I retorted. “You didn’t think you were just gonna get away with that did you? What the hell were you doing anyway?”
“I was getting some things in order,” he replied nonchalantly. “I didn’t know how this audit was going to go, and I wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”
My mouth fell open. “Taken care of? What does that mean?”
Cole shifted uncomfortably, not meeting my eyes. “I went to see a lawyer in Billings. Made sure that if they took the ranch from us, you’d still get something. Half of everything I own.”
“You... what?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“I put your name on my personal accounts. Set up paperwork so you’d get my truck, my savings, everything. Just in case they ruled against us and we lost it all.” His voice was quiet, almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t running away, Jesse. I was trying to make sure you’d be okay.”
A lump formed in my throat. All this time I’d been furious, thinking he’d abandoned me when things got tough. Instead, he’d been trying to protect me, just like Jack said.
“You asshole,” I muttered, but there was no heat behind it. “You could have told me.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” he said simply. “And I needed to be alone to think. About what I’d do if we lost this place.”
“And what did you decide?”
Cole finally looked at me, his eyes reflecting the starlight. “That I’d follow you anywhere. That the ranch doesn’t matter if you’re not here.”
My heart skipped a beat. This was Cole Nelson, the stoic, stubborn, ranch-before-everything cowboy, and he was sitting here, telling me I mattered more than the land his family had worked for generations.
“Well,” I said, trying to sound casual despite the emotion threatening to choke me, “good thing we’re not gonna lose it then.”
He smiled, a real smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Yeah. Good thing.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the night wrapping around us like a blanket. I thought about Jack’s letter, about the acceptance he’d offered us from beyond the grave. About all the wasted years and missed chances.
“So what happens now?” I asked, my thumb tracing circles on the back of Cole’s hand.
He took a deep breath, looking out over the darkened ranch. “Now we keep working. Keep building. Make this place something that would make my dad proud.”
“Our dad,” I corrected gently.
Cole nodded. “Our dad.”
I leaned against him, feeling the solid warmth of his shoulder. “And us? What happens with us now that the secret’s out?”
“Hell if I know,” he admitted with a soft laugh. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what? Been in a relationship?”
“Been in a relationship that matters,” he clarified. “Been with someone I can’t stand to lose.”
The raw honesty in his voice made my chest ache. “Well,” I said, “maybe we figure it out together. Day by day.”
Cole turned to face me, his expression serious in the dim light. “I meant what I said in there, Jesse. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
I reached out, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him close, my forehead resting against his. “You won’t lose me,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”