Chapter 25
25
Essie
T hree days later, the bright Colorado sun had melted most of the snow from the roads. But there were still patches here and there in the pastures, especially in the shady spots, and the mountains were completely white past the tree line and would remain so until June, at least. I didn’t mind. Colorado winters were beautiful. Crisp and dry and somehow full of both sunshine and snow. I’d take a Colorado winter over a Florida summer any day of the week.
It was Jack’s last day in Aspen Springs. He was leaving first thing tomorrow morning for who knows where. Mom was at the bakery until three, which meant I had my twin all to myself for a couple hours. Like I’d hoped, he was spending the day with me at Lodestar Ranch.
Five minutes into our trail ride, I could swear the stiffness in Jack’s shoulders had relaxed an inch. Fresh air and horses. There was no better medicine. With me on Ginger, a pretty chestnut mare, and Jack on Domino, a trusted paint gelding, we took the long way to a small creek that cut through one corner of the ranch property.
We didn’t talk much as we went. Jack was quiet by nature and I was a chatter, and rather than meet in the middle, we took turns. I gave him space to be silent for a bit, and then he’d give me space to talk. We had never discussed it, or whose turn was when, or anything like that. It was simply what we did. As natural as breathing.
I took a deep breath as we wound between a copse of pines, inhaling the spicy scent until my nostrils tingled, and I saw Jack’s chest rise and fall as he did the same. His shoulders relaxed another inch.
When we came up to the creek, we halted our horses and just looked . The creek was full and fast from the recent snow. The field stretched out on either side, a pale fawn color that shimmered in the sunlight. Beyond that rose the snow-peaked Rocky Mountains.
Jack leaned forward, resting his forearm on the saddle horn, and gazed out at the grandeur before us.
He didn’t cry. But the look on his face…I wished he would. I wished he would scream and howl and rage and set free whatever made his face twist like that and never let it come back again.
“Do you have to go back so soon?” I asked softly. “Maybe?— ”
“I have to go back, Essie.”
“Why?” I asked, even though I was aware that a soldier couldn’t up and leave the Army. And Jack had never once given the impression there was anything he would rather do. But I’d never seen that look on his face before, either.
“Because someone has to. And I’m good at it.”
I sighed. “All right. But I want a full two weeks for Christmas. No excuses.”
He grinned and shook his head. “Ten days. That’s all I can give you.”
“I’ll take it.” My stomach rumbled. “Want to stop here for lunch? The view can’t be beat, and I’m dying to see what concoction Ted made for us.”
The second I had told Ted we were going for a trail ride, he had insisted on packing us lunch. Ted was a true genius when it came to building sandwiches, so I had the feeling we weren’t going to find peanut butter and jelly.
We dismounted and tied Ginger and Domino to a low-slung branch, then found a flat enough boulder along the river bank to make a good seat. The rock was cold as hell under our butts and we both laughed about that.
I was right about the sandwiches. Ted had made us each a six-inch sub stuffed with ham, turkey, provolone, peppers both hot and sweet, shredded lettuce, and mayo .
“Oh, man,” Jack moaned around an enormous bite. “This is delicious. What did he name it?”
Ted liked to name his creations. “Homecoming. In your honor, I assume.”
Jack’s mouth twisted. “There’s a saying about that.”
“Home is where the heart is?” I suggested.
He shook his head. “You can’t go home again.”
“I don’t like it.”
That look was on his face again. “I fucking hate it.”
I didn’t know what to say after that. I knew not to press. Jack would talk when he was ready—if he was even allowed to, which wasn’t very likely. So I did the only thing I could. I scooched closer until our shoulders bumped against each other and I let him be silent for a while.
We finished our sandwiches. There was also a container with four chocolate chip cookies, which I suspected came from James, since Ted wasn’t much of a baker. James made a batch every week for the ranch hands.
“So, you really went and married that jackass, huh?” Jack said, indicating that quiet time was over.
I raised a sardonic eyebrow. “If by that jackass , you mean your childhood best friend, then yes. Yes, I really went and married him.”
Jack paused long enough that I wondered if he had decided to cut talking time short, but then he said quietly, “He was your friend, too. ”
“Was he?” Damn, that came out more bitter than I intended. “I thought we were at the time. But we couldn’t have been that close, right? Because when he decided he was done with me, it came as a huge surprise. We never even had a fight. He just…wasn’t my friend anymore. He never even told me why. That’s not what real friends do.”
Jack took a swig of water and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”
“Don’t defend him!” I tickled his rib and he laughed, swerving to defend himself. “He might be your best friend, but I’m your twin sister. You have to take my side.” I was laughing, too, but I was serious.
“I am always on your side,” he said in a tone that nearly vibrated with intensity. “No matter what.”
“Good. Because at the very least, he should have explained it to me. He should have had the courage to say to my face that we couldn’t be friends anymore, and he should have explained why. He owed me that much.”
Jack removed his ball cap and roughed a palm over his close-cropped hair. “Well, that’s the problem, Essie. He couldn’t have told you even if he wanted to.”
“What are you talking about?” I stared at my brother in utter confusion. “Why not?”
He paused for a beat, and then another one, twisting the brim of his hat in his hands while my heart twisted in my chest. Finally he looked me square in the eyes.
“Because he made me a promise.”