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Prologue
Jude
Six years old
Cock-a-doodle-do
Rooster Phil is up. I roll over in bed, looking out the window. The sky is yellow and orange, so I guess it’s okay to get up.
“Benny,” I whisper to my little brother in the bunk above me.
He doesn’t answer.
I’m always the first one awake now. I miss Mommy so much more in the morning. She was always the first one up. I never heard her go downstairs, but the smell of coffee or bacon would wake me. Or my dad’s cowboy boots when he went downstairs.
Benny wouldn’t wake up until Mom had been in our room at least three times, and Emmett was still in his crib, stuck until Mom went to get him.
The back screen door would bang when Dad left to work the ranch, and he wouldn’t come home until the sun was falling.
But now, there’s no coffee brewing.
There’s no bacon sizzling in the pan.
My dad’s boots haven’t walked down our stairs since we buried Mommy.
I crawl out of bed and pull on the dirty jeans from my hamper and toss on a T-shirt and my Noughton Ranch sweatshirt in case it’s cold. I stop at the door, and I look to make sure Benny is still sleeping. He’s on his stomach, his arms tucked under his pillow. One leg out from the blanket.
I tiptoe down the hall even though I don’t think I need to worry about waking anyone. My dad never comes out of his room anymore. When Emmett wakes up, I’m the one who gets him now.
I skip over the squeaking stair, but my socks slide on the hardwood, and I fall down two steps before grabbing the railing to stop myself. I wait and listen. As always, no movement. Our house used to be crazy. Now it’s like I live at the library Mommy used to take us boys to in town.
Picking up my boots, I carry them through the back door, slowly shutting the screen door so it doesn’t bang. On the back porch, I put on my cowboy boots and sneak off.
I’ll be back before Aunt Darla comes to make us breakfast.
A few trucks pull down the drive, workers starting their day.
Instead of following the path around the farm, I hike through the trees along the edge of the small lake in the middle of our property. The horses are out grazing, which means someone is already here, so I don’t pet them. I don’t want anyone knowing where I’m going.
I climb the hill to the fenced-off area where generations of my family are buried.
I sit on the ground at the far end of the fresh mound of dirt and stare at the simple cross. Aunt Bette said she’ll have a tombstone like Grandpa’s in a few weeks.
I stare at the dirt, knowing Mommy’s body is under there, stuffed in some box. I really hope the worms and spiders don’t go inside. Who will kill them for her if I’m not there to do it?
The sun rises in the sky, and I know I don’t have a lot of time left. I have to get back before Emmett wakes. He asks for Mommy through the monitor every day, and when I come in the room, his bottom lip shakes until I play peekaboo with him.
Benny always asks Aunt Darla during breakfast when Mommy’s coming home from heaven. She looks at Aunt Bette, and there’s silence, each waiting for the other to answer. Aunt Darla’s eyebrow raises the same as Mommy’s when she used to ask Benny and I who started hitting who. That’s when I tell Benny we’re going to go outside and play football. Benny can’t handle the truth. He’d cry if he knew that she’s never coming back. It’s my job to protect him.
Dad never comes out of his room. Aunt Darla and Aunt Bette have my cousins to take care of, and I heard Uncle Wade telling Aunt Bette the other day on the front porch that he’s barely treading water taking on all the responsibilities himself. He said that somehow, they have to get Dad out of bed and to live again, otherwise we’ll lose the ranch. Mommy loved the ranch, and if we lose it, I know she’d cry up in heaven.
I cross my legs and pick at the grass around the dirt.
“Mommy,” I whisper.
Dead people can’t talk, but everyone says she’s watching over me, so she should be here. And if she’s here, shouldn’t I feel her? But I don’t. Tears burn my eyes, but I swallow them down. I have to be strong for Benny and Emmett and Dad.
I hear a squeak, and I glance over my shoulder. Sadie shuts the gate behind her as if she’s locking everyone out. I wish she could.
