Page 64 of Just Say When

“The thing is, though, I wasn’t getting any better,”she continued. “I probably could have stayed right where I was for another decade, if I wanted to. Maybe I would eventually become number one in the world, if Abby had a bad year or went on maternity leave or something. But I still wouldn’t be better than I was right then. I knew that, and so I didn’t actually care if Ievergot to number one. I had more than fulfilled my dreams, and I dreamed pretty big, as you know. I didn’t have anything left to work for. No new goals. I was…bored,” she confessed. “I know that sounds ungrateful, but it’s true. I wanted a new challenge. I was just…done.”

“I don’t think that sounds ungrateful,” I said, and meant it.

“Well, good. Because I didn’t mean it. It’s what I say because so many people think that’s what I am, anyway. People thought I was selfish for going after my dream, and they thought I was ungrateful for leaving it behind.” She paused. “Not my mom, though. She never thought I was selfish, even though sometimes I agreed with the people who said I was. She sure thought I was crazy sometimes, though.”

There was a look in her eyes when she spoke of her mom, and of sometimes feeling selfish. Like maybe she really did believe it.

I couldn’t take it. I scooped her off the floor and sat down on the couch with her on my lap. “You listen to me, Essie Price. You are not selfish. She followed you to shows because that’s what she wanted to do. She didthings for you because she was your mom, and that’s what parents do. It doesn’t mean you owe her your career. You get to live your own life however you see fit, and you don’t owe it to anyone to live it forthem.”

She stared at me for a long time, fiddling with the hair at the back of my neck.

“Okay?” I insisted.

She nodded, a little smile playing on those lush lips. “Okay,” she said.

“Good. Because now you’re going to get the ice cream, and I’m going to deal the cards. What are we playing?”

She shrugged, her blue eyes heating in the glow of the fire. “The only game I know is strip poker.”

“Fuck, yes.”

The power could stay off forever, for all I cared.

25

Essie

Three days later, the bright Colorado sun had melted most of the snow from the roads. But there were still patches here and there in the pastures, especially in the shady spots, and the mountains were completely white past the tree line and would remain so until June, at least. I didn’t mind. Colorado winters were beautiful. Crisp and dry and somehow full of both sunshine and snow. I’d take a Colorado winter over a Florida summer any day of the week.

It was Jack’s last day in Aspen Springs. He was leaving first thing tomorrow morning for who knows where. Mom was at the bakery until three, which meant I had my twin all to myself for a couple hours. Like I’d hoped, he was spending the day with me at Lodestar Ranch.

Five minutes into our trail ride,I could swear the stiffness in Jack’s shoulders had relaxed an inch. Fresh air and horses. There was no better medicine. With me on Ginger, a pretty chestnut mare, and Jack on Domino, a trusted paint gelding, we took the long way to a small creek that cut through one corner of the ranch property.

We didn’t talk much as we went. Jack was quiet by nature and I was a chatter, and rather than meet in the middle, we took turns. I gave him space to be silent for a bit, and then he’d give me space to talk. We had never discussed it, or whose turn was when, or anything like that. It was simply what we did. As natural as breathing.

I took a deep breath as we wound between a copse of pines, inhaling the spicy scent until my nostrils tingled, and I saw Jack’s chest rise and fall as he did the same. His shoulders relaxed another inch.

When we came up to the creek, we halted our horses and justlooked. The creek was full and fast from the recent snow. The field stretched out on either side, a pale fawn color that shimmered in the sunlight. Beyond that rose the snow-peaked Rocky Mountains.

Jack leaned forward, resting his forearm on the saddle horn, and gazed out at the grandeur before us.

He didn’t cry. But the look on his face…I wished he would. I wished he would scream and howl and rage and set free whatever made his face twist like that and never let it come back again.

“Do you have to go back so soon?” I asked softly. “Maybe?—”

“I have to go back, Essie.”

“Why?” I asked, even though I was aware that a soldier couldn’t up and leave the Army. And Jack had never once given the impression there was anything he would rather do. But I’d never seen that look on his face before, either.

“Because someone has to. And I’m good at it.”

I sighed. “All right. But I want a full two weeks for Christmas. No excuses.”

He grinned and shook his head. “Ten days. That’s all I can give you.”

“I’ll take it.” My stomach rumbled. “Want to stop here for lunch? The view can’t be beat, and I’m dying to see what concoction Ted made for us.”

The second I had told Ted we were going for a trail ride, he had insisted on packing us lunch. Ted was a true genius when it came to building sandwiches, so I had the feeling we weren’t going to find peanut butter and jelly.

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