She took a sip of her whiskey. “Thanks for saying that, but if I hadn’t wanted to come back to Honey Grove, none of this would have happened.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Jesse said. “All you have to do is kick a mesquite bush or an old scrub oak tree and a dozen bad boys will come running out. There would have been someone like Ricky out there in the Panhandle. Those guys aren’t worth their salt, and they’re always lookin’ for an easy target. When they’re together full time, and she’s not doing something behind your back that seems thrilling right now, the novelty will wear off.”
Addy took a small sip of her whiskey. “I figured you’d be angrier than you are.”
“Shock can kill anger pretty quick,” he said. “We can’t undo what’s done, but we can move on. I’d like for her to know that I’m her father when she comes home.”
“If she comes home,” Addy said. “And it’s just been the two of us for so long, that I think it’s best if I tell her all by myself.”
“Oh, honey, she’ll come in here with her tail tucked between her legs, begging you to forgive her,” Jesse assured her. “And if you think it’s best to have that conversation with her by yourself, then that’s what you should do. I haven’t been in the picture enough to ask for any favors.”
“What makes you so sure that she’ll come home?” Addy asked.
“You and this ranch are her stability. When she gets tired of Ricky, she’ll want her roots again. I know because I came home,” he admitted. “That last hitch in the Air Force seemed like it took forever. By the last year, all I could think of was coming home to the ranch, wearing my cowboy boots, and never having to stand at attention again. Then I got scared that something would happen to me, and I’d never eat Mama’s cookin’ again or see Daddy before it was too late.”
Addy’s eyes misted. That was exactly the way she felt the last year Jesse was in the service. Every time she looked out her bedroom window at the bunkhouse, the ache in her heart for her best friend grew even more, and she regretted not being up front and honest with him.
“Well, we sure slapped you in the face with drama when you got here, didn’t we?” she whispered.
“It’s still good to be home. I’ll take the good with the bad.” Jesse finished his beer and crushed the can in his bare hands. “Good night, Addy. See you at breakfast.”
“I’ll be there.” She smiled for the first time that day. “And thanks again for everything—most of all, for understanding.”
“Hey, you had your reasons.” He touched her cheek. “Get some sleep. I understand that we have to move some cattle from one pasture to another tomorrow. Don’t want you to fall asleep and wreck one of the four-wheelers.”
“I can still keep up with you, even in the face of drama,” she assured him.
“There’s my strong friend.” He smiled.
Friend.
She couldn’t ask for more, but sitting there under the stars, she wished she could.
* * *
Jesse hummed Blake Shelton’s “Home” all the way back to the bunkhouse. The song had been one of his favorites the past year, but now it had even more meaning when he remembered the lyrics saying that he understood why she couldn’t come with him because it wasn’t her dream.
He opened the door, and Tex ran in before him and curled up on the sofa. “Like the song says”—he stopped and rubbed the dog’s ears—“I just wanted to come home, and even with the problems, I’m glad to be here.”
He kicked his boots off, stripped out of his jeans and shirt, and curled up on his bed. This time, he went right to sleep and couldn’t believe it was morning when his alarm went off.
By the time he got dressed, poor old Tex was dancing around and barking at the door.
“Just a minute, old boy. I’ve got to get my hat,” Jesse said.
When he finally opened the door, Tex made a dash for the nearest bush and then ran back to the porch.
“Don’t rush me, feller,” Jesse yawned. “We’ll get to those cattle soon as we eat some breakfast.”
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when he opened the back door and stepped inside to the aroma of coffee, bacon, and something that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon rolls.
“Mornin’, Mama.” He headed straight for the coffeepot. “Daddy, did you sleep well?” he asked as he poured two mugs full and set one in front of his father.
“Better than I expected after the way yesterday turned out.” Sonny picked up the mug and took his first sip. “You reckon Addy is going to be all right?”
“She’s tough.” Pearl pulled a pan of hot yeasty cinnamon rolls from the oven. “She’ll be fine, but when Mia gets around to calling us, I intend to have a word or two with that child.”
Jesse heard footsteps coming down the hall, poured two more mugs of coffee, and took them to the table. “How you doin’ this mornin?” he asked when Addy came through the door.
She smiled wearily at Jesse. “Pearl always says that things look better after a good night’s sleep and dawn comes around. I feel better than I did last night.”
“Come out back with me for a minute. I’ve got something to show you,” Jesse said.
Addy followed him out the back door in time to see a gorgeous sunrise.
“Isn’t that a beautiful rainbow?” Jesse asked. “A new day. A new outlook, and new hope.”
She nodded and wiped away a tear. “I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed our friendship until you came home. Remember when we used to talk about everything. I believe the only secret I ever kept from you was Mia.”
“I missed talking to you, too,” Jesse said. “I guess we’d better get on back in there and help Mama get breakfast on the table.”
“I suppose so,” Addy said. “Thanks for the sunrise and the encouragement.”
“Anytime.” He smiled.
He escorted her back into the house with his hand on her lower back and went straight to the stove to carry a platter of bacon and eggs to the table in one hand and the pan of cinnamon rolls. “Mama, you’re going to make me fat.”
Sonny chuckled. “As hard as I intend to work you, there’s no way you’ll gain an ounce. Eat up and then get those cows moved over to the next pasture. That way we can plow that one under and replant it. If that cockamamied weatherman isn’t lying to us, we’ve got a rain coming at the end of the week, so it would be good to get the seed in the ground tomorrow.”
“Cockamamied,” Jesse laughed. “The guys on my team used to tease me about our Southernisms. They nicknamed me Dr. Cowboy.”
“Doctor?” Addy asked.
“I was the combat medic, remember?” he said.
“Say grace for us, Sonny,” Pearl said. “These two need to eat and then go muster some cattle.”
Sonny bowed his head and said a short prayer, then chuckled again. “I don’t think it’s mustering when all they do is herd them through a gate to another pasture. Mustering is what you do when you stay out there two or three nights like we used to do back when we were young and couldn’t afford to hire extra help.”