Page 97 of The Rogue

“That’ll do.” She types it in. “Transport date?”

“Oh…um…” Surely she understands I have no place to keep a horse. Much lessmyselfin two weeks.

She pushes up her glasses. “I’ve got to put something in the system otherwise the sale is incomplete.”

“Two weeks from tomorrow.”

“You got it.”

Jackson comes back out with a mouthful of blueberry muffin. “Aunt Maggie, I tried them for ya. Little light on the blueberries, but that’s my fault. I popped a few when Tess wasn’t looking.”

She narrows her eyes. “That tracks.”

“Thanks again, Mag. When would…hebe notified?”

She glances at Jackson. “No later than one week prior to pick up. That one is a requirement. So he can prepare them.” She looks at her calendar. “So…next Friday.”

I swallow. “But she’s officially…”

She grins, easing my anxiety. “Officially off the market.”

I release a breath. “Thank you.”

The early evening sun slants through the window of Jackson’s room as he and I freshen the space up before the school year.

“How many of these hats do you wear?” I point to the stack of worn, faded cowboy hats.

“Just the two on top. Dad picks me up a new one every summer. But I’d rather wear a baseball hat like my friends.”

I pause, turning to him. “Do you play?”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to, but I've never played, and my friends have been playing since they were like six. If I start now, they’ll laugh at me.”

My eyes move to where I saw a bat and glove near the dresser. “What’s that then?”

“Those were Uncle Elliot’s. I got a lot of his stuff after…”

My shoulders sag. I watch the boy who’s always had a quiet strength about him. Wondering how much of it he keeps bottled inside. How much he’s afraid to ask for whathe wants.

I pick up the baseball and move to him on the bed, tossing the ball in the air. “Well, slugger.” I catch it with the other hand. “I happen to be pretty good. Maybe we can practice and get you ready for tryouts?”

He scrunches his nose. “But you’re a girl.”

I nod. “Some think so, yes.”

“Can you throw?”

“’Bout to throw you across the room.” I launch for him, and he giggles and wiggles away from me.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let you show me what you got.” Then he watches me like he wants to say something but hesitates.

“What’s on your mind?” I whisper, leaning in.

“You’re cool. And real.”

“Real? Do elaborate. Real pretty, real funny…”

“Just real. Like when Uncle Chase says,keep it real.”

---