Slowly, I sink down to sit on the steps. There’s so much pain from that time in my life, and I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. Is the source Holly? Is it what Brothers did?
Or is it what the Caudills did in retaliation?
Because that was the worst thing of all. That was what made me steal my horse, Godspeed, out of Brothers’ barn, ignore his warnings about staying under his protection, and run like an outlaw. That’s what I’ve kept locked up deep inside, along with everything else.
That’s what I can’t forgive.
I run a hand over my face, wiping away the sweat. Brothers talked a lot about forgiveness. He said the Good Lord forgives every Sunday morning. So, I did the same. I forgave him. I trusted him.
I take the picture Della gave me out of my pocket.
My stomach turns over. There we are, looking young and brilliant. We’re standing outside the diner, arms around each other’s shoulders. Brothers is in a linen suit, holding his cowboy hat in his hand, big grin on his face. I’m in my Sunday shirt and pants, always creased because I stuffed them in the dresser instead of hanging them. My hair is wild and my smile is real.
God, I look like a baby.
The world is quiet. The mountains and fields are still. An ache worms its way through my heart.
Sometimes, I just wish it had all worked out. I want to know what happened the night I killed Pat Pretty, but it’s all still a blur. Slowly, I flip it over, and my stomach drops.
There’s a tiny scrawl, barely legible.
Come home, Jen.
This was written years ago. An intense anger floods my veins. Jesus Christ, this man cannot be content with ruining my life once. No, that’s not enough for Brothers Boyd. He has to reach out through twenty years of estrangement and sink his claws back into me.
I’m not free.
I haven’t ever been free. All this time, I’ve looked over my shoulder. I’ve slept with woman after woman, trying to fix whatHolly did. I’ve made friends, real friends, and yet, there’s always this unanswered question hanging over me.
I am an unfinished story.
And I’m tired of it.
I don’t want to run anymore. I’m done stepping on eggshells, hoping my past doesn’t rear its head. I still can’t let Della get on top of me without being right back there on the kitchen floor. It’s ruining my hope for the future. I thought she was my dream girl, my chance to have a family like everyone else I know. Instead, I’m right back at the beginning.
I’m done. I won’t do this anymore.
I’m going back home.
It’s time to face him, to say the things I was too young to say back then, to face the Caudills and find out what happened the night I killed Pat Pretty.
I’ve lost sleep for years, wondering what I would do if I could go back and do it all over again. My chance is here to lay my demons to rest, maybe figure out some way to keep Della when it’s all over. I don’t know what I want with her, but I’m pretty sure I need to find out.
I’m back at the beginning. It’s the same unholy trinity.
But the Holy Ghost is a different woman this time, and that makes all the difference.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DELLA
I don’t cry.
I’m too devastated for tears.
The handcuffs cut into my wrist. An owl screeches over the fields. Jensen is still outside. I haven’t heard the door slam or his boots on the floor again. The austere clock on the wall ticks the minutes away.
How long is he going to leave me here?
