“Yeah, I think it does.”
“Smaller?” Cody asked from the front seat.
Both he and Kylie shook their heads. “No…,” Jax began, but wasn’t sure how to continue.
Kylie agreed. “I can’t pinpoint it, but definitely not smaller.”
Jax rolled down his window and drew in a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of dry earth, cut hay, and something intangible that spoke of home.
Mr. Thomas slowed at the speed zone, and when he got to Avenue A, he turned right and headed for the Chew & Brew.
“Everything’s more in focus,” Jax said at last. “Like sharper, clearer, and...enough.”
Kylie nodded, looking around her with an expression that matched his own sense of homecoming. “I don’t think I’ll be in such a hurry to leave anymore.”
Cody eyed her closely. “You’re giving up on being a singer?”
Jax hoped that wasn’t the case. He knew she loved to sing. She spoke before he could form a protest.
“No, not giving up. Just...not going to rush into anything.”
Jax heard the unspoken guilt in her comment. If she hadn’t been so quick to believe Maria, they wouldn’t have fallen into the woman’s trap. Vera must have heard it, too.
“I can’t exactly be sorry, you know,” she said. “If you two hadn’t been taken, too, I would be in Mexico and on my way to God knows where right now.”
Jax took note of their tightly clasped hands, and he squeezed Kylie’s shoulder. The knowledge that Danica hadn’t made it lurked in his conscience, and he’d be surprised if her death didn’t weigh heavily on the other two, as well. They hadn’t spoken of it outright, but it showed itself in sentences cut short and glances filled with pain. He almost regretted the offer he’d made to Agent Sanderson to be the one to give Danica’s parents a first-hand account of what had happened, and hoped he’d be ready when the time came.
His thoughts were interrupted when they neared the café and saw the circus of media vans, reporters, and cameramen, who all watched the truck drive by. Jax saw the local reporter lift his head like a wolf scenting his prey, and realized of any of them, he might recognize Mr. Thomas' truck.
“Maddy texted me earlier, said we should go straight out to the ranch,” Mr. Thomas said. “The hands will make sure they stay away until the kids are ready to make a statement.”
Jax was surprised when, about twenty minutes later, one of the Lazy J’s SUVs pulled out of the way so they could pass the improvised blockade of the ranch's driveway, and they saw Rick and Ray armed with scatterguns. Mr. Thomas paused long enough to learn the shells were loaded with rock salt, meant to warn off any trespassers, and that Jeff and Deke were riding the fence lines, keeping an eye out for anyone enterprising enough to try sneaking in cross-country.
Minutes later, he saw the small crowd of people waiting for them in front of the main house at the ranch. His gaze sought and found his parents, who stood holding each other. Their tense expressions broke into relieved smiles when they saw him climb out of the truck.
Kylie and Vera had scooted out the other side, and they were each locked tight in the embrace of relieved parents. Jax tried to maintain an air of manly cool as he walked up to his mom and dad, but what he really wanted to do was put his head against his mom’s shoulder and cry.
He almost did just that as she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing with relieved tension. “Jax, honey. I’m so glad you’re home safe!” She drew back from him for a moment—long enough to coo over the lump on his forehead—then she pulled him in tight again.
“Easy, Ma,” he said, giving his dad a strained smile over her shoulder. “My—”
She gasped and loosened her hold. “They said you were shot!”
“It’s just a graze in my side,” he said, trying to reassure her. He pulled up the sweatshirt and showed her the neat dressing he’d received from the field medic. There were bruises from the ordeal, but the bandage showed only a small smudge of blood, indicating the wound was no longer bleeding.
His dad just watched him, and Jax couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Once his mother let go of him, his father held out a hand, and Jax tried not to sigh aloud as he caught his hand in a solid grip. He’d be strung up six ways from Sunday before he’d let any sign of weakness show in front of his old man.
“Welcome home, son. I expect you have quite a story to tell.”
Jax eyed him, unsure if that tone meant he expected some kind of elaborate fairy tale designed to excuse himself of any blame, or if it was genuine interest in what had happened and how he had helped bring them home.
He nodded, not trusting himself to answer without sounding defensive.
Mrs. Thomas stepped up on the bumper of her husband’s truck and clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Hey, y’all. Janie and I have been cooking up a storm all afternoon, and we’ve got chili and cornbread enough for all. Not to mention fresh apple pie and ice cream. I propose we go inside and eat, then we’ll give the kids a chance to tell their story to everyone at once.”
Everyone nodded, and a few people clapped in agreement. Jax looked around to see who was there. In addition to his parents and Vera’s, Kylie’s family made up the bulk of the rest. Her mom and Tim, her dad, her uncle Blue and aunt Mitzi, her grandparents, and her best friend, Alice, were there. Even her uncle Trip, who didn’t often stop work to attend social events, had left the business of the ranch long enough to welcome them home. It was a decent-sized crowd, but he thought he knew everyone well enough that he’d feel comfortable telling the parts of the story that were his to tell. He wondered if Vera would say much.
Mrs. Thomas stepped down and turned to the man and woman standing on either side of Vera. She gave them a friendly, reassuring smile, and Jax was close enough to hear what she said to them. “I know you’ve come a long way to pick up your daughter. I hope you’ll accept our hospitality tonight and stay to eat. We’ve got room out here for you to stay the night, too. I think Vera will benefit from spending at least one more night with Kylie and Jax. In fact, you're welcome to stay as long as you need.”
When the couple exchanged dubious looks, she put an encouraging hand on each of their shoulders. “I know a little bit about helping people through trauma,” she said gently. “Connecting with those two will help her work through this. Not to mention that you might benefit from time spent with parents who know, first-hand, what you just went through.”
The pair exchanged looks again. Jax thought they were wavering, so he decided to weigh in. “Vera’s very brave, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels.”
Kylie jumped in, too. “I’d love a chance to spend more time getting to know her.” She turned to Vera. “And I hope you’ll want to stay in touch.”
Vera nodded, her expression a mixture of pleasure and relief. “I’d like that.”
“I guess we can stay,” Mr. Daniels said, and his wife nodded. “We’re just so happy she’s safe.”
“Then come inside. We didn’t know what Vera likes to eat, but chili is Jax’s favorite, and apple pie is Kylie’s. If your favorite is something we can get our hands on, Vera, we’ll be happy to bring it.”
Vera blushed. “What you already have sounds wonderful.”
“All right then.” Mrs. Thomas held her arm out to indicate the front door of the house. “Let’s go give thanks to the Lord that we have a reason to celebrate tonight.”
Chapter Twenty
Kylie couldn’t sleep. Partly because she’d slept so much on the nearly six-hour drive from their hotel in New Mexico, but mostly because every time she closed her eyes, some horrific scene played out on the inside of her eyelids.
She lay staring up at the ceiling of her mom’s old bedroom out at the ranch. How did I sleep so well at the hotel?
Yes, she’d been exhausted—both physically and emotionally—but she hadn’t so much as flinched the whole night, and the realization of what was different was growing on her.
Last night, she’d snuggled
up next to Jax, his strong arm around her shoulders, his breath stirring her hair. Tonight, she could hear and feel Mom shifting on the other side of the double bed, and although her nearness was comforting, it wasn’t the same.
As quietly as she could, she eased out of the bed and slipped on the jean shorts and floral tube top Mom had brought from home for her. Janie mumbled in her sleep, and Kylie looked down at her for a moment before deciding she’d better leave a note. Last thing she wanted was for her to wake up and think she’d disappeared again. She would have sent a text, but didn’t want to wake her up with the notification tone.
The scrap of paper she found on the bureau would do. She scratched a quick note and left it on her pillow, then crept to the door and eased it open. Once in the hall, she moved quietly down the stairs to the front room, intent on going out to see if Jax was awake, too.
Outside, she stepped off the porch and crossed the yard toward the bunkhouse. It was a beautiful night—clear sky, brilliant starlight, and a warm breeze drifting on the quiet air. The rising moon almost made the yard lights redundant.
Sure enough, she saw Jax sitting on the bunkhouse porch, elbows on his knees, scratching the toe of his boot in the dirt. He looked up at her approach, the ghost of a smile turning up the corner of his lips.
She thought about the kisses they’d shared, and wished she could just walk up and kiss him again. Maybe she would. Then again, years of platonic friendship could hardly be set aside in one day, could they?
“Think the blood will come off your boots?” Kylie asked by way of hello.
Jax kept his voice quiet. “I sure hope so. Every time I see the stains, I kinda want to throw up. But I hate to have to break in a new pair. These were just getting to feel perfect.”
Kylie took a seat beside him on the porch, then leaned against his shoulder. She felt a small thrill as he put his arm around her, and when she looked up at him, his lips were so close, she gave in to temptation.
He returned her kiss with a sweet urgency that left her breathless. His hand reached up to cup her cheek, then slipped back to the nape of her neck to draw her closer. She opened to the tentative touch of his tongue, tasting him for the first time, and twisted her hand in the front of his shirt to secure her hold on him.
She’d kissed and been kissed a few times before this, but she’d never felt such a connection to any other boy. Why had she run from Jax for so long?
When the need for oxygen overrode their passion, they broke apart, but didn’t stray far from each other.
“I’m so sorry I doubted you for so long,” she said at last. “I never thought your crush would last, and I—”
He put one finger on her lips. “Doesn’t matter now.” He searched her gaze for a moment. “Do you remember learning Shakespeare in Bremmer’s class? It’s like Hamlet said to Ophelia. ‘Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.’”
“Didn’t Ophelia drown herself?” Kylie asked, tracing his jaw with her finger.
She felt as much as saw his fierce intensity. “Only because she let herself doubt. But I won’t ever give you cause to doubt my love for you.”
Pleased with this poetic side of him, she laughed, then kissed him again until the sound of someone clearing her throat interrupted them.
She was surprised to see Vera moving quietly toward them from across the yard.
“I see you two couldn’t sleep, either,” Vera said, voice hushed.
Kylie shook her head. “I slept so much on the way home. I wanted to see if Jax was awake, too.”
Vera smiled sheepishly. “I almost hated to interrupt you, but I was just lying there....”
Jax glanced over his shoulder at the bunkhouse door. “Y’all want to walk to the barn? I don’t want to wake Tim.”
“Doesn’t Jeff still share this bunkhouse with you, too?” Kylie asked as they stood, then moved off toward the barn.
“Yeah, but it’d take a stick of dynamite to wake him up.”
They walked in silence for a while, then Jax opened the man door of the barn and gestured for the girls to precede him inside.
“I miss my horse,” Vera commented, walking up to the first stall to greet Pompey, the roan gelding, as he stuck his head out to see who was visiting. “I will be glad to get home to see her.”
Kylie noted the emphasis on the word “will,” as though Vera was trying to remind herself of the things she loved. She sat on a stack of baled bedding straw, and took Jax’s hand as he sat down beside her.
“I was only gone a couple days longer than the two of you,” Vera continued, “but it sure feels like months. I can hardly remember what it was like to be at home.” She scratched Pompey’s nose. “It’s like what you said about home being enough. Personally, I don’t think that’s true for me anymore. Did I tell you they picked me up right outside the grocery store? Said they had some puppies and asked if I wanted to see. She was even holding the cutest little Pitbull puppy. After I stepped inside and he grabbed me, she put the puppy back into the bed of a pickup—there was a whole box of them back there—and off we drove.” Vera frowned. “It was totally a spur-of-the-moment opportunity for them. Just like that, I became a victim. I was less than a mile from my house.”
Kylie wasn’t sure what to say about that. It was clear Maria knew how to exploit weaknesses. “I got played, too,” she said, “and my weakness dragged Jax down with me.”
Jax made a noise of disagreement, but Vera wasn’t done yet. “See, that’s why home isn’t home anymore, you know? I felt safe there. Nothing happens in North Platte, except the odd case of domestic violence. People don’t go missing, but there I was…kidnapped in broad daylight by a woman with a puppy.”
They were silent for a few moments. “Do you want to move to a bigger city then?” Jax asked, his tone curious.
Vera shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe when I actually get home, I’ll feel different. But right now...I kinda want to just stay here. You two know. I don’t have to explain why it happened, or how it feels to....” Her voice trailed off.
“I get it,” Kylie said, leaning into Jax a little. “I watched April while we were telling everyone what happened, and I could tell she didn’t get it. I know the next time she gets me alone, she’s going to want to hash it all out with me, and I kinda dread it. I mean, she’s my friend—my best friend—but I don’t think I’ll be able to make her understand.”
“Right,” Vera said. “My folks told me they’d been on the radio and local TV, asking people to come forward if they knew anything. Like I was a runaway or something. So I’m going to have to talk about it some more.” She pressed her forehead against Pompey’s nose, and the gelding patiently allowed it. “At least we survived, though. I’m so glad Danica’s parents weren’t here today.”
Jax made a noise that was something between a grunt of sympathy and a curse. “I feel so bad about that, like I should have stopped her from running,” he said.
“No, Jax, it wasn’t your fault,” Kylie said, squeezing his hand.
“If anything, it was mine,” Vera whispered. “I found the trailer, picked it as a place to run toward. I went up to the door too soon. If I would have waited—”
“No,” Kylie insisted. “Alan was a killer. He wanted to make an example that we wouldn’t ignore. If it hadn’t been Danica, it would have been one of us. And as far as running into them again.... Well, we all decided to go. We ended up at that trailer with them because it was the only place that made sense for us to run. You may as well blame a soap bubble for the direction the wind blows.”
She looked between the two of them, and her conviction strengthened. “I feel bad Danica died, too, but we can’t blame ourselves. Alan and Maria are the criminals. They’re the ones who took us. They get all the blame. All of it.”
⋘⋆⋙
Janie felt the cooling fabric of the pillow beside her. Instead of Kylie’s soft hair, her fingers touched paper and she sa
t up, bringing the scrap close in the light of the three-quarter moon shining through the window. The words “Can’t sleep—out walking” eased one fear, but replaced it with a different worry.
She and Kylie had spoken briefly after dinner, but Janie knew she wanted to speak to her in greater depth. They had more in common now, each with their own nightmare to overcome. The details were different, but the net result was the same, and Janie thought they could help each other adjust.
Judging by how warm the sheets beside her were, she thought Kylie had not been gone long, so she slipped out of bed herself, pulled on her clothes, and went down to find her daughter.
When she stepped out the front door, the first thing she saw was Tim on the porch of the bunkhouse. He caught sight of her and walked down the slight rise, crossed the yard, and took the hand she held out to him.
“They’re all in the barn,” he said. “Guess none of us can sleep.”
“Hmm.” Janie looked over at the barn, then back at Tim. “I’d been so focused on Kylie, I didn’t think how the other two must surely be affected.”
Tim brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “They’re young.”
“And?”
He chuckled at her clipped tone. “And they both have great heads on their shoulders. I don’t know about the other girl, but Jax is a practical kid, and Kylie’s a firecracker. They’ll get through it, maybe faster than we will. And you’ll have noticed at least one good thing that’s come of their ordeal.”
Janie nodded as they leaned against the split-rail fence that marked the boundary between the main house’s lawn and the central parking yard. “She opened her heart to him. It’s hard to go through something like that and not see things more clearly on the other side.” She squeezed Tim’s hand.
“True,” he said. “I know it’s helped me get clarity on something.”
“Oh?” That was a surprise.
One Last Song (A Thomas Family Novel Book 3) Page 15
