Chapter 1
She stepped forward, onto the porch and slid a finger over the banister. Sanded down, stained, the amount of time and labour that had gone into it must have been enormous, let alone the cost to renovate things like this.
Back in the day, ten-fifteen years ago, this had been a rundown box of planks with a roof. Now, it looked like a spacious, sturdy and neat farmhouse. Cozy and welcoming.
Slowly, she looked up, took the steps one by one. She knew the second step creaked like it had been abused for too many years, but when she stepped on it, it didn’t even whisper. The step was fixed too.
Finally, when she lifted her hand to use the knocker, also new, she heard footsteps from her right. Heavy boots on the thick floorboards of the porch, and she whirled.
“Hello, stranger.” His tone was mildly amused. His voice three times lower than she remembered.
And the man, holy hell!
She had to hold on to the railing or she’d have fallen back down the way she came.
It was Jackson Reeves alright. And if she hadn’t recognised the small tattoo on the back of his hand, she wouldn’t have known it was him.
He was tall, strong, with biceps that her hands wouldn’t fit around. His skin tanned and weathered, and he had a trimmed beard now, making him even more imposing than he already was.
No, gone was the skinny stick of limbs, the sweaty locks on his forehead and the dazed look of the morning after a wild night with weed and alcohol. Though, she had to admit, she didn’t look any better herself back then.
No, his eyes were clear, creased in amusement and still as green as she remembered. She almost couldn’t believe she was looking at the same man from fifteen years ago.
“Jackson.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, raspy and airy, and she tried to clear her throat.
He shook his head, stepped forward, reached for her hand and leaned in for a peck on her cheek. “Jett. Ain’t that somethin’.” He stepped back, tucked his hands in his pockets, and stared at her, a smile growing on his face. “What brings ya out this way?” He scratched his beard in thought. “Lord, I don’t reckon I’ve seen you in fifteen years.”
Jett nodded sheepishly. “Uh. Do you have a minute? We need to talk.”
Jack grinned. “Not beatin’ around the bush, are you? Need to figure out what kind of trouble we’re getting into tonight?”
Shaking her head, she stepped forward. “I’m serious, Jack. I need to get our divorce settled.”
Now he froze, eyes widening. “You’re pullin’ my leg, aren’t ya?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too when I tried for a mortgage at the bank and they asked if I wanted to include my husband’s income, almost a month ago. Turns out we are married. Have been for almost fifteen years.”
“Wait, what?” Jack’s hand shot out, gripping the railing like it might run away. His face drained of colour. “You’re tellin’ me I’ve had a wife for fifteen years without even knowin’?”
Jack actually had to sit down, take off his hat and run a hand through his hair, to get his heart rate down. So he took the steps of the porch leading to the lawn, and sat on the second last to do just so.
He, a man immovable and with both feet on the ground, had to sit down, because what he just heard couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Someone, somewhere was playing a game or something.
He had been married? For fifteen years? Shit like that only happened in those cheesy romantic movies most women liked to watch, but in real life? Hell no.
“Yeah, I felt the same way when I heard it the first time,” Jett said, sitting down right next to him. They both stared out over the barnyard, barns and behind those, the endless fields of the Cottonwood Valley.
“Still can’t quite believe it. Apparently, Joe Bishop, the guy who married us, was licensed and actually sent in the papers.”
“But—” Jack rubbed his face, exasperated. “That guy wasn’t even eighteen. We only pretended to marry each other, didn’t we?”
Jett shrugged. “We were so in love back then, and we were all drunk celebrating the end of school. And Joe actually licensed himself the month before that party, as soon as he turned eighteen.”
Jack shook his head, still reeling. “So now what?”
“Well,” she said, brushing her hands on her jeans, “I had my lawyer draw up the divorce papers before I came out here. If you could sign them, that’d be mighty nice. By tonight would be splendid — then I can head back this evening.”
She paused, gave a small shrug. “It’s all pretty straightforward. I told him to keep everything as-is, no splitting things in half since we’ve both had separate lives.”
Her voice softened a touch. “Though I’d understand if you wanted your own lawyer to look it over first.”
“You’re going back tonight?” he asked, brows lifting. “Where do you live, if I may ask? Last I heard, you were in Denver. That’s one hell of a trip to do in a single day.”
As the words left his mouth, he jolted like someone had goosed him and shot to his feet. “Well, damn, I’m a lousy host. You want somethin’ to drink? Cold? Hot? Hell, both?”
“Sure,” Jett nodded with a small smile. “We can catch up, if you like. It’s not like we split after some big blowout. Something cold sounds perfect.”
He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and peered inside. “Soda, beer, or mama’s lemonade?”
When she grinned, he laughed. “Knew it. Mama always said you had a sweet tooth.”
He looked up when she kept quiet, then he saw her grin. “Your mama’s famous raspberry lemonade recipe?” she asked. “I’d kill to drink just one glass one more time.”
He grabbed the glass bottle along with a beer, took a glass from the cupboard, and placed everything on the kitchen table. “Help yourself.”
They both sat, drinking in comfortable silence for a while. Jack noticed Jett’s eyes wandering around the room. When she finally caught his gaze, she smiled.
“Not much has changed here while I was gone,” she said, leaning back and stretching. “Man, this kitchen brings back so many memories. Your mama could bake the meanest pies. She’d always pack me up with leftovers when I went home.”
“She loved ya, you know.” Jack said, his voice catching a little. A prickling in his eyes betrayed the nostalgia washing over him.
His mother had loved Jett like her own daughter. They’d been steady in high school, and everyone assumed they’d end up together. Truth was, he’d assumed it too. Hoped she’d come back after college so they could pick up right where they left off. But she never did. Not until now.
“I know,” Jett smiled, eyes glistening. “I loved her too. Cottonwood Valley just wasn’t the same without her.”
She blinked, took a slow sip of her lemonade, then grinned. “So, how’ve you been? I saw the farm’s really taken off; loads of cows, the veggie garden’s starting to bloom, and did I spy wheat coming up green?”
“Yeah, the farm’s thrivin’.” Jack grinned proudly. “Have to work my ass off to keep it going, but it’s rewarding work.”
Jett cleared her throat, before she quietly mumbled. “I can see that. You’re huge.” She hurried to finish her lemonade then stood to place her glass in the sink. “I should go. I added a sticky note with my number if you have questions or if you’ve signed it. Give me a call, I’ll come and get it.”
Jack stood fast, and grabbed her hand. “I’m not going to let you go like this. You’ve been driving for nine hours straight. Take some time, rest.”
She tried to pull back, but Jack held her firmly. “Jack, please. I have to go.”
“What? He frowned, pulling her to him. “Is it too hard to be here? You don’t have to go; you want to go.”
Her eyes shot up, wide, but not just surprised, she was annoyed too. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
When she kept quiet, he continued. “You feel uncomfortable being here. Though I can’t tell whether it’s the memories that are coming back, or because you still feel somethin’ for me, but you are uncomfortable.”
“Jack, I—”
Jack shook his head. “Don’t lie to me, Jett. I don’t deserve your lies. Then simply don’t say anything at all. We don’t have to talk about it, but is it truly too much to stay here for one night?”
She shook her head, defeated.
“I won’t let you drive those nine hours back to Denver. What if you fall asleep behind the wheel? Hit a deer? Slide off the road somewhere out past Broadus without cell reception?”
She folded her arms, chin lifting. Suddenly her fire was back. “You think I can’t do it?”
“I ain’t sayin’ you can’t.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, the way he always did when she was getting under his skin. “I’m sayin’ it’s plain foolish. Eighteen hours round trip? Stay. Take the spare room. Or take Jo’s, she ain’t here anyhow.”
He met her gaze. “Visit your dad. See some friends. Hell, drag out a lawn chair if it’s all too much for you and get a sunburn for all I care. That June sun don’t play favorites, even if there’s still snow on the peaks. But you’re not gettin’ back in that car tonight.”
Her brow rose in that familiar way, and he gave a lopsided smile, but his eyes didn’t budge, full of a parental-kind of concern. “I’m not lettin’ you leave like this, Jett.”
She sat back and huffed, clearly annoyed with him. Then suddenly she laughed and threw her head back. “You haven’t changed a bit, Reeves.”
“Good. That’s settled then.” He finally stepped back and walked towards the door to the hallway and noticed how she immediately took a deep breath. “I’ll get Jo’s room ready for ya.”
