Stupid Girl(110)
The services were unlike any I’d ever attended. Jilly’s was a Ranger’s funeral, and Mom was presented a Lone Star flag and a silver Ranger’s star. No less than thirty active and retired Texas Rangers were present, each with a Winchester rifle they shot off in his honor. Jilly would’ve hollered for sure. I couldn’t seem to stop the flow of tears falling, but Brax stood beside me, holding my hand, squeezing it if I wavered even the slightest. Kyle had lent him clothes for the funeral, and he wore black slacks, dress shoes, and a blue shirt that made his eyes nearly glow. It wasn’t a long service, but I thought it would never end. I stared at Jilly’s casket at the graveside service, at the Lone Star flag draped over it, and I still couldn’t believe it. I just wanted the day to be over. Finally, it was.
Thanksgiving Day was a dismal event. But because Jilly wouldn’t have wanted a house full of sour pusses crowding his table, we celebrated just like we normally would have. Only we didn’t dare roast a turkey, or make the first morsel of food. Friends and neighbors took care of that, too, and soon we had to start making room in the freezer for things. Jace blessed our food and dedicated the day to Jilly’s memory. It was a Thanksgiving I’d never forget. It was one I wished I could. Yet beside me, Brax sat. Never out of sight. Always comforting.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said, later that evening. “I need to stretch my legs.”
“Lead the way,” he answered. We both rose from the sofa.
“You two bundle up good,” Mom said, and she smiled at Brax. “You might be used to Boston weather, sweetie, but this is about as cold as I’ve seen it get in Texas.”
Brax flashed my mom his famous smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mom shook her head, a slight grin tipping her mouth, and turned back to the stove to make tea.
In the foyer, we both pulled on knit hats, scarves, and jackets, and headed outside into the chilled night air. The yard lamp cast an amber hue over the porch, and we started down the steps. Our breath frosted and billowed out before us on each exhale as we walked the path to the barn. My hands dug deep into my coat pockets, seeking warmth. Brax walked close, his arm around my shoulder. I wanted to just melt into him. Forget everything that had happened before now. Because compared to losing Jilly, it was … I don’t know. It seemed stupid. Immature. Not worth the worry. Right? I mean, Brax was here, with me now. He didn’t have to be. He didn’t have to even offer. But he had. Question was, could I ever trust him again? Would it always be a thorn in my gut, digging away at me?
“Gracie,” he started. He was quiet then, and I looked up. His eyes were on mine, and he struggled with his words. “I want to tell you the whole story. Everything. But,” he glanced up, toward the sky. “I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I came here.” He stopped us both, grasped my shoulders, and looked down at me. “It’s not. At all.”
Sincerity shined in the reflection of light in his eyes. “I believe you.” To my surprise, I did, too.
Relief passed over his gaze, and he nodded and we started up the path. I watched the earth pass beneath my boots as we walked. “But only if you want to tell it.”
“I do.” He drew in a long breath, exhaled. “There are things you need to know.”
I guided us off the path and turned toward the barn’s side entrance. “Let’s go sit in the loft,” I offered, and a fond memory passed through me. “Jilly always knew to look here if he couldn’t find me. It’s my thinking spot.”
I let us in the side entrance, and the familiar scent of hay and horse and sweet feed swept over me. A couple of horses whinnied at our presence, and I led us to the ladder at the far end. I climbed up first, Brax right behind me. In the loft, I crossed the wooden floor to the swing door, unbolted it, and pushed it open. When I sat and dangled my legs out over the ledge, Brax did the same. We were still and silent for a few moments, staring out across Beaumont land in the darkness. Stars littered the clear November sky.
He turned where he sat, looked me square in the eye. “I chose you for the dare, Gracie. The second I saw you walking across the lawn, I knew it had to be you.”
My heart plummeted at Brax’s confession. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know where to look. I wanted honesty? Well, he was giving it to me, double-barrels. I stared at my hands, laced my fingers. I said nothing, just waited for him to continue.
“All those rumors about me, Gracie? They were true.” He looked out over the field, and I slid a glance at his profile. Strong. Handsome. Perfect. “Getting women to fall for me? It was like a drug. The chase, an adrenaline rush.” He looked at me then, and shadows obscured half of his face. “When I first laid eyes on you? In that hat, and those boots? Carrying that box across the grass?” He shook his head, but kept his gaze on mine. “I thought it was just another game. Another chase.” The muscles flexed in his jaws. “You suckerpunched me, Gracie. Never been hit so hard in my whole life.” He brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “You’re just so damn different.”