Wrong Place Wrong Time #3
It didn’t take long for everyone to get their things and the plan to set in motion. Charlie, Ryder, and Chey left first with the babies, followed by Jacie. Mama had argued for her to stay, but after a moment of panic—a long goddamn moment—she finally relented and let her go.
Jacie ran to grab her purse from the nursery and I was about to go find her to walk her out when I heard her soft, lyrical voice float through the living room.
“Oh, True, did you need something?”
I spied them from the hallway leading into the family room–True and Jacie stood by the front door. He towered over her, looking like a storm cloud in his dark ensemble, while she was bright and warm as a spring day.
“Look, what I said earlier, I apologize. It was out of line and not really aimed at you, but more so at my brother. Either way, it wasn’t appropriate.”
I bit back a disbelieving huff. I didn’t know True could be apologetic. He prided himself on being a cold, unfeeling bastard who cared little for anyone’s feelings.
“Oh.” Jacie smiled, waving a flippant hand through the air. “It’s okay. No offense taken. I hope to see you around.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything more.
I waited for the jealousy to bristle in my chest, to bristle to life like kindling to a fire. Who was he to talk to her? She was supposed to be mine. But she wasn’t. And I felt just as hollow and cold as I had since leaving a certain dark-haired she-devil earlier today.
I didn’t miss the opportunity to break them up, though, as I strode into the room. “You ready, Jacie?”
She nodded, and I reached to open the door for her.
“Bye,” she breathed, looking up at True before I walked her to the car.
We both remained in silence as we traipsed through the gravel toward her Mustang.
For a moment, I debated breaking up with her right then.
It would be a hell of a lot easier to do it now than wait until tonight, but when she turned to face me as we stopped before her car door it’s like the cord attaching my brain and my mouth had been severed.
So much concern and kindness and love shone in her denim blue gaze.
“My heart hurts for you. And your mama. Your whole family, really. I just…” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I wish I could do something.”
Do it. Just be honest. Tell her.
But one of my hands raised up to brush the tear from her cheek instead. “See you at the house.”
She melted into me, arms wrapping around my waist as she squeezed me tight. My heart clenched, guilt rolling over me like high tide.
Fucking coward.
“See you in a bit,” she murmured, sliding into her car.
I waved and watched her taillights fade down the drive for a long moment before turning back toward the house. My boots felt like they’d been filled with cement as I trudged for the front door. I didn’t want to go in there. Didn’t want to accept the fact that Mama was sick.
What if she didn’t make it? I know she was positive she would, but still.
No. I had to believe she’d be okay. If she believed it so adamantly, then so would I.
The house was thick with silence as I walked in, so opposite the flurry of commotion and activity it was just a few hours ago. True stood in the living room, looking out one of the windows toward the gates, almost like he wished he was anywhere but here. Today, I didn’t really blame him.
“She’s pretty...” he said quietly, not even bothering to look at me.
I nodded. Jacie Lynn was beyond pretty. She was beautiful, inside and out. The guilt writhing inside me grew angrier at the thought that my actions tonight might break her heart. “Thanks.”
He finally looked at me, his gaze—so similar to mine—full of contempt. “Too pretty for you. You gonna ruin her like all the others you’ve been with?”
“Enough of that.” Mav’s deep voice drew our attention from over by the hall leading to the dining room. “We ain’t here to fight.”
True’s jaw shifted, but a moment later the tension in his muscles released and he nodded. I gestured with my chin toward the dining room where Mama still sat at the table. “We should go in there.”
We approached the doorway when the back door swung open. Dad walked into the dining room, heading straight for Mama, before falling to his knees at her feet. His hands, weathered and worn, rested on her denim-clad legs, his head dipping to rest on her knees. I’d never seen him look so broken.
This man had always been larger than life. The most terrifying yet strongest person I knew. And here he was bowing down at my mother’s feet. In the end, as strong as he was, Mama was the strongest and most powerful of all.
His words were muffled as he spoke, and my heart clenched painfully tight in my chest as I realized he was crying, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
I couldn’t see all of Mama’s face, but even from this distance I noticed her chin trembling. “Clint, please.” There was a fierceness to her words even as they quaked. “This ain’t your fault.”
“You don’t know that.” He looked up at her and the evidence of his tears shone on his cheeks. “I threw ‘em out. All of ‘em. Broke ‘em up, smashed ‘em, tossed ‘em in the trash.”
Mama croaked out a soft chuckle, pressing a hand to his tear-stained cheek. Neither of them had ever been one for such displays of tenderness. Seeing the raw, gentle vulnerability from each of them nearly brought me to my knees. “We’ll get through this,” she said around a soft smile.
“I can’t lose y—”
“Nope. No talkin’ like that,” Mama said, cutting him off.
“I don’t need kind words and softness, Clint.
Right now I need your grit, your strength.
I need the stern man who helped me raise our boys.
I need the tough as nails cowboy who built this home with his bare hands.
I don’t need you Clint…I need you, Bad Mooney.
” She held his face in her hands, lips tilted up into a hopeful, knowing look.
Resolution solidified on his face, the strength returning to him once more.
She leaned down, pressed a whisper soft kiss to his lips, and righted his cowboy hat.
He rose with a nod and captured her hand in his before brushing his lips against the backs of her knuckles.
He still hadn’t completely returned to his brusque, usual self, but that steely look began to return to his gaze.
“Come on out, boys,” Mama called all of a sudden, startling Mav, True, and I. “You’d think in twenty years y’all would get better at eavesdroppin’.”
The three of us shared a look. The very same one we all made back when we were young and got caught by either her or my dad. How could she know we were there listening? Was it that obvious, or was it just a parent thing?
The three of us skulked from the shadows and into the dining room. We all murmured apologies under our breaths. Dad wiped a sleeve across his face and cleared his throat.
Mama’s glassy gaze took each of us in as she faced us. Reaching out both hands, she choked out, “My sweet boys.”
There was just something about when Mama demanded affection.
I might be a strong man, but the minute Mama needed a hug, there was no resisting.
Like a magnet, I was pulled into her embrace.
As it turns out, True couldn’t resist either.
Both of us gripped one of her hands. The only one who hadn’t moved was Maverick, whose gaze was downcast, almost like he was trying not to bring attention to himself.
“And what do you think you’re doin’ waitin’ back there, Maverick?” Mama chastised, letting go of my hand to wave him over. “You're just as much mine as these two hooligans.”
His jade eyes sparkled with love and admiration as he too was pulled into the fray.
“Now,” she said, her voice stern as she took turns staring each of us in the eye.
“It makes me sad that this is the first time y’all have been together in Lord knows when.
” Her lip trembled but she forced the next words out of her mouth.
“This may be bad of me, but I don’t care.
I’m sick of this bickerin’ and fightin’ between y’all. ”
I opened my mouth to respond but her scalding stare was impossible to challenge. “I don’t wanna hear it. Y’all are brothers. The three of you. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what y’all need to do, but fix it. Bury the hatchet. I need you boys, all three of you.”
Guilt welled up in me like a damn geyser.
I don’t know how or when or why even the distance between True and I became a thing.
Maybe it was him joining the military. Maybe it happened before then, but I couldn’t think of any specific time.
Over the years, we just sort of grew apart.
He’d never been into riding, never into rodeoing or anything to do with the ranch. Maybe it had to do with that.
But as the years passed, the wedge between us grew, until it was a gaping hole that neither of us had any idea or intent to fix—at least on True’s part. I’d tried at first to mend the rift, but it only drove him away harder. So I’d just…stopped. And that's how we wound up here.
I don’t know how long we ended up staying at my parents.
After pulling out some old photo albums, we sat around the living room, reliving all of those moments as a family—Mama and Dad at one of his rodeos, my first rodeo, Mav’s first ride on Black Betty, True playing baseball, the three of us on one of our camping trips at the lake.
After, when we’d looked through every photo, Dad had turned on Blazing Saddles and sat in his recliner, while Mama sat in hers.
Mav settled into his usual spot on the loveseat, True sat on the opposite couch, and I made myself comfortable on the floor pressed up against Mama’s chair, reveling in the nostalgia of the entire moment.
It was like for a single night we went back in time. Back to when things were easier. Simpler. A happier time.
When Maverick and I finally decided to head home, when I said goodbye to my brother, there wasn’t so much animosity between us.
Maybe he didn’t hate me after all.