Kate
You’d think by now I’d have a method for making sandwich loaves that doesn’t involve destroying the kitchen, but unfortunately there’s flour dusting every surface and a mountain of dishes whispering rude things to me as I sit down and enjoy my coffee.
I’ll get to the dishes shortly, but first I want to take advantage of this rare moment of silence.
Rhett’s outside helping Beryl in the garden—under Cecily’s supervision, of course. And Odessa’s softly humming to herself as she focuses on her homework at the kitchen table.
The coffee warms its way down my throat before settling like a blanket in my stomach, and an exhale from my nostrils blows small ripples across the milky surface.
Then the front door hinges squeal, raucous laughter warbles through the quiet home, and heavy cowboy boots tread down the hallway.
Austin briefly stops in the entryway, narrowed eyes sweeping the kitchen before spotting his wife in the garden—Odessa and I don’t even get as much as a grunt in greeting on his hastened walk outside.
Denny strolls in hot on his eldest brother’s heels, adjusting the fit on his backwards hat and immediately pulling up a chair right next to Odessa so he can pester her.
His chair scrapes against the floor as he shuffles it to get even closer, peering over her shoulder and pointing out a mistake in her math.
“You smell like fish.” Odessa turns up her nose, pushing her uncle away.
“I smell like a winner. I caught the biggest fish today.” He picks up a colored pencil and fills in an empty space on her multiplication table.
“Dad caught three times as many as you, though.” The low pitch of Jackson’s voice fills the room, and I shift my gaze to the archway connecting the hall to the kitchen.
His broad shoulder leans against it, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.
A day spent outside has left him rumpled, loose-limbed, and sun soaked.
His complexion is infused with vibrant color from the spring air.
Locks of dark brown, wavy hair are disheveled, practically begging to be played with.
He looks more like my husband than I’m used to seeing since the accident. It takes my breath away.
Odessa gives Denny a firm shove on the upper arm, and he scoffs. “Geez. I’m trying to help you with your homework. You know, I used to be the smartest kid in my grade.”
“Really?” Odessa lifts her eyebrow. “What happened? Get knocked off a bronc one too many times?”
Jackson hides a snort behind a closed fist.
Denny’s jaw falls slack as he spins in his chair to look at me. “Damn, when did she get so mean?”
“Go home and snuggle that sweet baby of yours. This is what you have to look forward to in a few years,” I say with a laugh, eyes bouncing between Denny and Odessa.
He has a point—how did time go by so fast? I remember walking circles around this kitchen island trying to get her to fall asleep as a newborn.
After another small push from Odessa, Denny rolls his eyes and stands up. “All right, all right. I know when I’m not wanted. I should go give Red a hand with fixing the old tractor, anyway. Poor guy’s been busting his ass lately.”
“You should’ve invited him fishing,” I say.
Red’s picked up all the slack around here since Jackson’s accident, ensuring it’s business as usual at the ranch, even when Austin and Denny were in the hospital with me.
Denny heads for the fridge, grabbing a cold can of root beer. It cracks open with a loud hiss. “Tried. He said he pulled the engine apart yesterday and couldn’t leave it.”
Once he’s clomped his way back out of the house, everything’s quiet and calm again. Jackson crosses the kitchen slowly, fingers grazing the counter, until he’s sitting down next to me and the bump of our knees ignites a million sparks under my skin.
“How was it today?” I ask under my breath, mindful of Odessa eavesdropping.
“It was nice…normal. It was good to get out of the house for a bit.”
I smile at the red hue of a sunburn across his nose and cheeks. It highlights his freckles, which is always something I’ve loved about him. Without a second thought, I brush my thumb across his rosy skin. “You should’ve worn sunscreen.”
With an impish shrug, he grins. “Forgot where we keep it.”
“Same place it’s always been.”
“I figured.” He catches my hand when it falls away and gives my wedding band a slow spin. “Since I’m feeling pretty good today, I was thinking of heading down to the barn….”
In my periphery, I clock the way Odessa perks up at that.
Jackson must, too, because he continues, “Rumor has it, there’s a cat named Banana that I need to reintroduce myself to.”
“Can I show you Sprinkles and Tiny and Gregory?” Odessa bounces in her seat. Any hope of her finishing her homework before dinner is gone.
“Are they cats, or…”
“Yes.” She stands. “Let’s go.”
“Hold your horses,” I interrupt. “Dad didn’t say he wanted to go right this second. He just got home. Maybe give him a minute to relax.”
Odessa’s bottom lip quivers, and Jackson falls for it immediately. To be fair, he fell for that constantly before the accident, too.
“We can go now.” Jackson’s big eyes search mine. “Do you want to come?”
“I could use a few minutes outside of this house, too.” I chug the last of my coffee, then send Odessa outside to ask Rhett if he wants to join us. The door rattles when it slams shut behind her, and I wearily pull myself from the chair, having only had a few moments’ worth of sitting all day.
“So, hey…” Jackson follows me to the sink, getting so close it reminds me of the way he’d pinned me against the counter and kissed me last night.
How good things were before I pushed it too far—pushed him too far.
“Going fishing today made me realize maybe the kitchen date wasn’t my best idea.
You deserve better than that. Maybe that’s all I could offer when I was twenty, but that doesn’t mean it’s what you should’ve had.
Austin told me about some hot springs he and Cecily went to.
Apparently we can rent a cabin…Dad offered to stay with the kids. ”
Cecily told me about the hot springs after they went for their honeymoon, but trying to get a weekend away when you’re married to a rancher is like pulling teeth. And it never happened….
“I think a weekend away, just the two of us, could be exactly what we need. Plus, you deserve the relaxation. Think about how good it’ll feel to be kid-free, soaking in the hot spring, eating at a nice restaurant….”
“I have always wanted to go there,” I quietly admit.
“Let me call them and see when there’s availability.”
My fingers press hard into the tension in my trap muscles, and I roll my neck. “I think I’m having a bit of whiplash, Jackson. Last night you wanted to put more distance between us until you figure out what you want and now…”
Odessa and Rhett come barreling into the kitchen with mud on their hands and smiles on their faces.
Their cheeks are pinkened from running around, and Odessa’s hair is noticeably less smooth than it was before she went outside.
Only our kids can find a way to go from clean and presentable to looking like feral farm kids in less than a minute.
“Uncle Aus was trying to spray me with the garden hose.” Odessa explains her bedraggled appearance before I even have the chance to ask. “I had to run super fast to get away from him.”
Rhett, on the other hand, clearly couldn’t move as fast. His T-shirt’s drenched and his hair’s plastered to his forehead. His waterlogged shoes make a squishy sound when he walks.
“He sprayed me like he was a firefighter,” Rhett proudly says. Okay, so he didn’t run away, period. “Now I don’t need a bath tonight.”
I laugh. “Nope, definitely still need a bath. Come on, let’s go down to the barn.”
The kids take off at a run. They have two speeds: dragging their feet and sprinting.
Jackson catches my arm when I try to brush past, pads of his fingers pressing into my bicep. “I know what I want, Kate. Knowing what I want has never been a problem…. I’m scared of what I want, because I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to have it.”
“You have it.” I give him a reassuring smile. “You just need to be willing to reach out and grab it.”
At one point when Jackson’s great-grandparents and grandparents ran this ranch, the large whitewashed building not far from the big house was the only barn.
With a herd the size of the one the guys run now and a remuda to support the cowboys working only on horseback, we have a few barns and outbuildings spread across the ranch nowadays.
But that original barn is where the family still keeps our personal horses.
My stomach clenches at the thought of walking into the barn, and I shove my hands in my pockets to hide the uncontrollable shaking.
I can smell the copper aroma of blood in the air, the sound of my own scream rattling through the rafters of the barn, the helicopter’s blades vibrating through every cell in my body.
Rhett grabs hold of my pant leg, tugging the loose denim and leading me down the gravel driveway. A clucking noise out of the side of his mouth pierces through the fog. “C’mon, horsey. Let’s go to the barn.”
With a concentrated effort on breathing, I smile weakly at him. I can’t fall apart and panic in front of my kids. Rhett leads me right into the scene of my nightmares and, in spite of the twisting in my guts, I let out a quiet neigh.
A couple ranch hands are shoeing their horses when we step through the large opening of the main barn.
The kids race ahead of us, and Odessa wastes no time locating one of her favorite barn cats, Gregory.
I’m pretty certain the massive tabby cat is a girl…
but I guess she’s a girl named Gregory. I don’t know where Odessa gets her names from, but this is one I support. The cat looks like a Gregory, somehow.
Horses watch us from their stalls, my boots scuff over the concrete floor, and the smell of drying hay overwhelms my nostrils. Rhett’s using an overturned feed bucket as a table for an imaginary feast of hay shrapnel and bits of gravel.
Odessa packs Gregory the cat around like it’s a stuffed animal, swinging loose below Odessa’s arms yet somehow also squeezed unbearably tight against her chest. She introduces it to Jackson, followed by wildly theatrical introductions to her other barn cats—at least, the ones she can catch.
But when Jackson mentions Banana again, there’s a noticeable shift in Odessa.
“It’s okay. She’s usually way up in the rafters, so it’s going to be too much work.” Odessa shrugs, turning on her heel to leave.
“Well now, hold up. That was the entire purpose of coming down here. Shouldn’t we at least see if she’s around?” Jackson peers around the barn, presumably looking for this elusive cat. “Where does she normally hang out?”
Odessa quietly points to the far side of the barn, and I understand exactly why she doesn’t want to find Banana. Without hesitation, Jackson starts down the alley, dodging a wheelbarrow.
“Dad, don’t,” she pleads, tears welling.
Jackson ignores her, strolling down the alley. Odessa looks to me.
“He’s okay, Dess. It’s safe. Promise.” I grab her hand and put on a brave face.
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to go down there.”
Tears swell and fall down her cheeks, and she blubbers something incomprehensible. Crouching to her level, I pull her into my arms, feeling the weight of her head on my shoulder. Tears soak through the thick fabric of my shirt, and I quietly remind her to breathe.
She’s been seeing a children’s therapist an hour away in Sheridan every other week since Jackson came home, where she apparently spends most of her time yapping about everything but the accident.
Regardless, with the way snot and tears are pouring out of her at the thought of stepping into that horse stall, I think we need to make therapy a weekly thing.
Jackson pauses, and turns to look at us, stoic yet curious. “Is she okay?”
At the sound of his sister crying, Rhett comes wandering down the barn alley. He doesn’t know exactly what’s going on but, given the heightened emotions and tension thick in the air, naturally he wants to be in my arms too.
I hold both kids, squeezing tight, before offering Jackson some explanation. “This is where the accident happened. It was just you and Odessa here.”
God help me, I hope knowing that doesn’t trigger anything for him. I can’t possibly be expected to hold all three of them as they fall apart. Not when I’m struggling to keep it together myself.
His chin juts toward the farthest stall, voice lowered. “In here?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, then to Odessa, “Take a deep breath, baby. It’s all going to be okay.”
Metal clangs together as he opens the door to the empty stall.
The blood has long since been cleaned, so there’s no sign that anything bad ever happened here.
After no more than a few seconds of standing in the empty space, Jackson comes back and kneels on the cement floor in front of me.
And rather than falling apart himself, he wraps his arms around me and the kids, holding on to us as we do.