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Well, one thing would make it make sense, but he wasn’t going anywhere near the crazy thought that he didn’t like how much she clearly liked the guy.
“What does ‘put down’ mean?” Jeremy asked from the back seat.
Jackson winced, and Nic shot him an apologetic look. “Shouldn’t have said that, sorry.”
He understood. She wasn’t used to having little ears that didn’t miss anything around. And that she felt bad about it only made him like her more.
But Jeremy had asked, and he’d made a vow never to lie to his son, and so he told him the truth.
“They kill them?” The boy sounded horrified, and why not? So was he.
“Because some of them, after being at war, aren’t safe around people. They can’t tell enemy from friend, or everything’s a threat in their mind.”
“But they were only at war for us,” Jeremy protested.
And that’s when, as Nic had slowed the car, she had looked back over her shoulder at Jeremy and said, “And that’s why you and Chance are going to get along great.”
As a diversion, it was perfect. It didn’t deny the brutal truth, but it gave Jeremy something else to look forward to. He wanted to thank her for that, but her attention was back on the road as she made the turn toward the Rafferty ranch, and he didn’t want Jeremy to hear him say it and ask why. So he had done the only thing he could think of. He’d reached out and covered her hand with his and squeezed slightly. She’d given him a startled look, and he’d mouthed, “Thank you.”
He had no words for the feeling the smile he’d gotten then had given him. He’d been relieved when they stopped at the ranch house and Lucas and Keller had been there to welcome them, and he had been able to shove that unfamiliar emotion back into its box.
“—that’s Chance, never let down a brother-in-arms,” Maggie was saying when he tuned back in to the present with a jolt. “So Atlas became Tri, his handler’s widow came to adopt him, and Chance fell in love with her, and she, him.”
She was patiently holding the tray, which now held two last mugs, her own—judging by the painting on the side that was the image of the dog the two boys had brushed to a shine—and one he obviously should have already taken.
“Sorry,” he muttered, picking up the mug. And for lack of anything else to say, he complimented her on her own. “Nice image. Looks just like your dog.”
“Because it is,” she said with a smile. “My son Rylan did it for me a few years ago.”
“He’s the one who does the belts they have in the store in town?” Jackson asked.
“The very one,” she answered proudly.
“Jeremy has one. He found one with a pinto like the pony he’s been riding, and he practically begged for it.” His mouth tightened a little. “He hasn’t asked for anything since his mother was killed. Until we came here.”
“Last Stand is a good place,” Maggie Rafferty said. “It was built by good, brave people, and it draws those same kind even now.” She gave him a rather intent look before adding, “Obviously.”
He felt more complimented than he had when he’d won his first Emmy Award, or whenStonewallhad topped the streaming charts for months on end.
“I hear you’re taking on a lot of work over at the Baylors’ place. That’s good. Richard had a heart attack a while back, but he insists on trying to do everything he did before.”
“I didn’t know that,” Jackson said. But he wasn’t surprised Nic’s father hadn’t mentioned it. He wasn’t the type to whine. Nor was the woman before him now. “How did you do it? When... your husband was KIA?”
She shrugged. “It had to be done. My husband loved his boys, so I had to make sure they turned out as he would have wanted. They have.” She glanced at her eldest son, who was sitting at the table with the boys and Nic, sipping at the hot chocolate he hadn’t even tasted yet. “But as much credit goes to Keller as to me. He was only seventeen when Kyle was killed, but he stepped up for me and his brothers. Gave up any other life he wanted to make sure they were seen to.”
Jackson found himself pondering at length the differences between this place and the place he’d left behind. It wasn’t just the topography or the climate, it was the difference in the people that stunned him the most. Not that he hadn’t met good peoplein L.A., he had, but he’d met far more who either cared nothing about anyone but themselves or made caring gestures only for the positive press it might gain them.
Here, it appeared to be simply the way things were done.
Jeremy was very quiet when they got in the car to head back home. Back to the Baylor ranch, he mentally corrected, although home felt like a much more accurate word for it. He couldn’t quite believe they’d been here nearly a month. It had flown by, and between watching his son emerge from the cocoon of his overwhelming grief and enjoying the work he’d taken on, he couldn’t remember ever being more content. He’d been delighted when they’d given him the plum role of Austin Holt, jubilant whenStonewallhad hit so big, and utterly blown away when he’d come home with that first gold statue.
But this quiet, deep contentment was something he’d never known before.
It wasn’t until they were there—Nic had driven them up to the porch—that Jeremy spoke. And then it was to ask Nic if she was going to come in. She looked surprised, so Jackson quickly offered to put on coffee. And Jeremy offered to share his favorite new discovery, the peach crisp from the Kolaches bakery in town.
“Now, how could I resist that, since it’s my favorite too?”
They were seated at the small table, Jeremy tackling his treat with a gusto he also hadn’t seen in a while. The boy had put on some much-needed weight in the month they’d been here too. He loved sleeping up in the loft, and Jackson liked having him there so he could hear clearly when he was downstairs. It had taken a couple of weeks of listening before he dared believe that perhaps Jeremy truly was past the nightmares and crying himself to sleep. He remembered thinking that all the physical work he himself had been doing had produced some solid sleepat night for him, so maybe all the learning and playing with Pie was doing the same for Jeremy.
