Page 83 of Eternally Devoted

He rifles through his open bag. “Trips me out,” Sterling says. Neck gaining a flush, Sterling does what he always does when the attention is favorably aimed his way. He nods me on, saying, “Tell Juniper what you told me. Show her the article.”

She stumbles out of the bathroom, curious energy leading her to sit next to me. I dig out my phone and pass it to her before rising and heading toward the bedroom door, stopping to grip the frame. “I’m gonna get going on breakfast.” I look at Sterling. “Also, the whole naked beautiful woman I love thing isn’t helping,” I tell him, adjusting myself. I point to his backward hat. “Neither is the backward hat.”

He doesn’t say anything, but turns his hat around as pink creeps up his cheeks. I love complimenting him freely because he isn’t used to it and it’s completely rebuilding him in the best way.

In the kitchen, I scramble eggs, cut up fruit, whip up some biscuits and make a pot of oatmeal. When Juniper and Sterling come out from the bedroom, she makes a beeline for me, taking my face in her hands.

“Thank you for showing me that article,” she says, a weightlessness about her. “And thank you both for everything.” She reaches back and takes Sterling’s hand and laces her fingers through mine, too. “I’ll spend my life repaying you both.”

Sterling kisses her cheek but moves past the moment, toward the coffeepot, filling three mugs. Handing me one and anotherto Juni, he sips his, sifting his monstrous hand through his soft strawberry curls, still slightly damp from his efforts this morning.

“Can I ask something?” Sterling says, speaking to Juniper.

She nods, spreading a spoonful of peach preserves—Juni’s own Little Peach blend—over a fresh baked biscuit.

“Do your sisters truly know nothing of… what you’ve done?”

Juniper is unfazed as she shakes her head no, and I know that means she’s making peace with what’s transpired. Now that we’ve helped her clean up the sites, I can see she’s starting to truly put it behind her. I’m glad that she is and I’m glad that she has a place to channel her energy now, that when she gets angry or frustrated, she can turn to us and we can help her solve things. I can see in her eyes and hear in her soft tone just how free she’s feeling.

“Nope. I was never going to tell anyone. But I’m glad I told you two,” she says, taking a massive bite of her biscuit, slathered in butter and jam. Sterling plates our eggs and I add a scoop of fruit to each, and we head to the table.

Sterling forks a bite of eggs, stopping before it reaches his lips. “Had the guy on the ravine not happened, think you would have told us?”

She considers the question for a moment while finishing her biscuit. “I don’t know if I would have told you guys until after we were together but I was ready to make a move. That night we were going to go bowling, I was going to try something with both of you. But then, well, ravine guy happened.” Our gazes slide to the living room rug where Yellow Dog sleeps soundly.

“I’m glad things happened the way they did,” I announce. As the one who has seemingly struggled with the dichotomy of wanting to be a good man but also wanting to help the people I love stay safe, it feels important to make it known that I’m okay with everything. I know it’s important we’re each okay with whathas happened. And I am. “We’re bonded in ways other people aren’t.” I glance down to Juniper’s flat belly then between them. “We’ll have children together, and that will be bonding, but what we’ve gone through…” I trail off. “We can face anything.”

The phone rings, and Sterling jumps up from the table, motioning to the landline hanging from the wall. “You guys eat. We have to be out there in ten minutes,” he says, lifting the receiver while poking a finger through the aluminum mini blinds to take inventory of the crowd outside.

“Hello?” he answers, peering through the window for a second. “Hello?” he asks again, this time with irritation vibrating in his tone. A moment later he hangs up. “It was dead on the other end,” he says, returning to the table to collect his plate.

As we finish up breakfast, Yellow Dog nudges Juniper’s hand, and Dash and I share a glance. “If anyone comes looking for him—” Sterling starts but Juniper is on her feet, clinging to his shirt in a hot second.

“I already thought of that. We’ll just say he wandered up and we kept him. I don’t get the paper. I don’t have cable TV. I can easily say I had no idea he belonged to anyone. He didn’t have a collar. So I kept him.” She curls her fists into his shirt, twisting the fabric. “If it’s really stupid to keep him then I won’t, but please, baby, please. If it's possible, I really want to keep him. He needs to know he’s loved. He probably saw his owner get raped and murdered, Sterling, and then to just turn him out to the streets? I can’t. I can’t, Sterling. I can’t watch if we have to get rid of him.”

He smooths his palms up and down her arms, pressing kisses to the top of her head. I think he’s about to tenderly embrace her, hold her to his chest to let her cry it out while he softly rationalizes why it would be good to get rid of Yellow Dog.

Instead, he opens his arms and motions for me to join, and then the three of us share a tight, long hug. We both strokeup and down her back while Sterling calms her with his gentle words.

“We can keep him. We’ll draw up some missing posters and say we put them up but never got a response, if we ever get asked about him. I doubt we will. He just needs to stay out of the limelight for a few weeks until people forget about that article, okay?”

She beams up at us. “We can keep him?”

He nods. “Sweetheart, if you wanted a pet zebra, I’d figure out a way to make it happen.”

I already knew that Bluebell adored Juniper and the Ellington sisters. But working Juniper’s booth with her has been eye-opening. Not only have Sterling and I been restocking her table as fast as possible, but we haven’t even gotten a word with our girl all day. She’s been talking to townspeople the entire time.

A few women brought her castor oil wraps for her back pain, one brought her a loaf of sweet bread while another hand-delivered flowers. Not a single person has passed by this table without buying jam and telling Juniper they missed her, and it feels good.

Finally, toward the end of the day, I spot her sisters lingering near the milk stand, their respective husbands in tow. Trace, Ivy’s husband, catches my eye and nudges his wife, and a moment later, the four of them head our way.

When they approach, Trace outstretches a hand to me. “Dash Foster, nice to meet you under circumstances where I’m not drunk and naked.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that, even though I probably shouldn’t. I’ve only met this guy a few times and each have beenpretty interesting. Ivy’s got him on the straight and narrow now, though, that much is clear by the way he grips her hand tightly, his thumb stroking circles over it.

“You too. And, uhh.” I scratch at the back of my head, searching for the right words. I should have practiced this. I think that’s why there are scenes in movies where people talk to themselves in the mirror. I should have done that. “I just wanted to let you know that if you ever wanna grab a—” I pause a moment before lodging my boot down my throat, because Trace is now sober. “A donut,” I finish, causing us both to erupt in laughter. “Sorry, man, this is awkward,” I tell him as Ivy and Dolly chat quietly just two feet away. Trace tugs his wife’s hand, and she faces us, and so do Dolly and Hudson.

Sterling and Juniper finish up with their last customer and then it’s just the Ellington sisters and the men who fell madly in love with them.

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