“You take so fucking long at night,” he’d snap.
“Don’t you want me nice for you?” I’d ask sweetly.
“You take ages putting our son to bed too. Come here.”
My eyes snap open. Right on the heels of the memory of his hands on me comes the pain of missing my son. The only consolation I have is that I know Kayleigh will put him to bed every night the way he likes: a story by the hearth in the nursery, a kiss on the head, and a song. Kayleigh’s people are from the mountains, so she knows all the songs I tried so hard to pass on to him.
Thedoor slams downstairs. I wipe my eyes. There’s no point in misery, not when I have a bullet like Jensen Childress in my gun. If anyone can get my son back, he can. After last night, I see what Brothers was saying about Jensen being a cat. Watching him jump into a moving truck and shoot two men through the sunroof, I get it now.
He is a tough motherfucker.
Boots sound on the ladder. Jensen comes around the corner, taking off his cowboy hat and hanging it behind the door. His eyes linger on my body, brows rising.
He whistles, low. “Goddamn.”
A flush creeps up my neck. “Hush,” I whisper back.
He leans down, takes me by the chin, and kisses my mouth. The way his mustache tickles has my toes curling.
“We’re going to Bonnefield Tavern,” he says, pulling his shirt off and turning the sink on.
I sit up. “That’s Brothers’ territory.”
“Brothers is the reason we’re going,” he says, splashing down his torso and toweling off. He takes his last clean white t-shirt from the pile of laundry I did the other day and pulls it on. “We’re going to need his help.”
I don’t speak. I don’t have any right to, not after dragging him all the way here. This is one of those times when silence is best.
“You’re going to behave yourself this time,” he says.
My feathers ruffle. “I was coming to help,” I say.
He stops in the doorway. “I was a professional criminal, Della. I know how to kill people.”
His footsteps die out, and I hear him pull a chair out at the kitchen table. Frowning, I sink into the water until it reaches my chin. The Bonnefield Tavern is where Brothers runs his bookkeeping business. It’s between Lexington and Byway, the place to be during racing season. I’ve been there once with Kayleigh to see a band and place bets on the derby, earning myself a scolding from Leland. After that, Kayleigh had to go alone. That’s how she met Brothers.
One thing’s for certain: there won’t be a Caudill in sight that deep into Brothers’ territory.
Jensen spends most of the day outside. In the late afternoon, I walk the yard, coming upon a mound of fresh earth. Down below, I know are the men he killed. I stare at it for a long time. Hoofbeats pull my attention. He comes around the side of the barn on Godspeed, hat on his head. I watch him for a while, enjoying the view.
It feels so right, being in this house with him.
Like the home I’ve always wanted.
At first, I thought I didn’t want marriage and children. I used to dream of running back to the holler and living alone, in peace. But now that I’ve met Jensen Childress, I realize I do want those things, but they better be on my own damn terms.
I just wanted the freedom of choosing my own way. I deserved to pick the man I wanted to be the father of my baby, the man I go to bed with every night, a man I love, one who loves me back.
I deserve a man who fights for me instead of fighting against me.
He disappears into the barn. I shake the thoughts from my head and go inside to get ready for tonight. Jensen comes in after a while. I get into my sundress, tying the ruched bodice tight, and put my boots on.
Then, I reconsider and retie the bodice to sit a little lower. I’ve got a nice body, and I like when Jensen looks at it.
My fingers falter.
I hated it when Leland looked at me; it made my skin crawl. It’s so strange, rediscovering all these things with Jensen now.
I wait for him on the porch because I like watching the lightning bugs rise in the silence of the gorge. The truck looks different, and the license plate is gone. I think Jensen might have put some kind of tint on the side windows.
