Page 7 of Simply Yours

The words hung in the air, a bitter echo of his own exhaustion. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and yet they were looking at him like he had betrayed them. He could feel the guilt crawling under his skin, but there was nothing he could do to erase the choices he had made.

Not now.

“You’re out of control,” Toni yelled, her voice shaking with raw emotion. “You’re outta control, Jason!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Jason spat, his anger bubbling over. His hands clenched at his sides, his body shaking with the force of his rage. “I don’t have time for this! I’ve got bills to pay, hay to order, groceries to buy. I don’t have time to sit here and pretend everything’s fine!”

“I don’t think I can eat,” Becca whispered tearfully, her voice breaking.

“Me neither,” Jason hissed, his teeth gritted together in frustration. “I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. I haven’t done a darn thing except try to hold everything together. I’ve never buried someone before—Dadhandled Mom’s funeral. So, if you’re all done blaming me for attempting to do the right thing, let me know. Until then, I’ve got work to do!”

None of them had dealt with this. None of them knew what to say, what to do. And the weight of their judgment, the weight of their eyes on him, was crushing him.

“It wasn’t right,” Toni muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

“Then why let it happen?” Becca said softly, but there was a venom in her voice that made his blood run cold. This was his youngest sister, the girl that looked up to him – and even she was questioning things?

“Because everything feels a little out of control and overwhelming right now!” Jason shouted, his frustration peaking, his voice ragged with emotion.

“You’re overwhelming!”Toni shot back, tears staining her cheeks. “You think you’re the boss of everything, and you are not. You are just another Baird like the rest of us, Jason.”

“She’s right,” Matthew spoke quietly, his voice filled with a calmness that made Jason’s chest tighten. “Dad taught you everything. So if you’re this out of control, or this is your version of how to do things, I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

Jason’s breath hitched in his throat. The words cut deep, deeper than any of them realized, but before he could say another word, the woman from the funeral—the one in the uniform—Caitlin stood up. She walked past Matthew, placing herself between them like a shield.

“Sit down,” Caitlin whispered, her voice soft but firm. “He’s grieving, too. You should be helping each other, not attacking him for trying to do what he can.”

Jason recoiled, stunned by her words. Her gaze flicked to him, her eyes filled with something that made his gut twist.Compassion? Understanding?

“I don’t need your help,” Jason snarled, the words pouring out of him before he could stop them. “Matthew, get your girlfriend outta here.”

She didn’t back down, her eyes unwavering. “Maybe you need to talk,” she said gently, her voice calm, almost soothing.

Jason felt a flare of anger rise in him, but he swallowed it down. “Not to you. Never to you,” he snapped, his voice sharp. His chest was tight with the force of the emotions he couldn’t seem to control. “I’ll be in the barn. And I’m serious. Get her out of here.Family only.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, his heart pounding as he turned away, trying to distance himself from the heat of the moment. But no matter how hard he tried to shake her off, the woman’s presence lingered in his mind like a soft echo of something he wasn’t ready to face.

There werea lot of thingshe wasn’t ready to face right now.

“One step at a time,” he muttered under his breath and running from his family toward the barn where the horses and cattle were.

* * *

Six months later, Becca moved to Dallas.

And never returned.

Jason sat in the quiet of the kitchen, staring at the empty space where Becca’s presence had once been so familiar. The air felt colder now, the house echoing with the silence that lingered after her departure. He could almost feel the weight of her absence, like a shadow clinging to the corners of the room. He had expected the ache to subside, thought maybe, with time, the sharpness of her leaving would dull. But it hadn’t.

It was raw.

It was constant.

Each day felt like walking through a fog, his footsteps heavy with regret, his heart still wrapped around the memory of her smile, the way she had laughed, the way she had believed in him when no one else had.

Becca was gone, and he hadn’t been able to hold on. He hadn’t been able to do enough.

His fingers tightened around the mug in front of him. The cool ceramic was a faint comfort against his palms. She’d told him once that she needed space, needed to get away and figure things out. But he had never thought it would come to this.

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