Page 21 of His Texas Star
“You up for dinner tonight?” I asked.
“You gonna take no for an answer?”
“No.”
“Then why ask?”
“Politeness.”
He fed Dolly another cracker. We sat there for a minute in silence, the December air cold and clear. The lights were on in the main house, the sound of Dakota’s laugh carrying across the property through an open window with the scent of food.
Dolly finished the crackers and wandered off without acknowledgment, done with Forrest now that the supply was gone. He watched her go.
"She does that every week," he said.
"Takes everything you've got and leaves?"
"Every time."
We sat there another minute. I wasn't in a hurry. Forrest never was either, these days—he'd lost the sense of urgency he used to have, the one that had made him good at his job in thecity, and replaced it with something that looked like patience but wasn't. More like waiting. For what, I didn't know if he knew.
I didn't ask. I'd learned not to ask.
"Aunt Peg made that thing with the cornbread," he said finally.
"How do you know?"
"I can smell it."
I stood up. Held out a hand. He looked at it for a second—that slight hesitation he had now before accepting anything offered—and then took it and let me pull him up.
We walked up to the house together without talking, which was fine. Forrest and I had never needed to fill silence. Even as kids, even right after the accident, we'd been able to sit next to each other and just—be there. It was the thing I was most grateful for about having a brother. Not the talking. Just the being there.
The noise of the kitchen hit me all at once, the minute I stepped through the screen door. Wyatt and Haven’s dog, Penny, came racing toward me; Aunt Peg was at the counter with Millie, while Uncle Adam sat at the table with Wyatt and Haven, the latter of whom had her son in her lap. Gage was standing and rocking Blaise, who appeared to be throwing a fit about something.
Uncle Adam reached up. “Sawyer! And Forrest—glad you decided to join us tonight!”
Millie turned around, her eyes lighting on me, and she smiled.
“We have a guest tonight,” she said, tilting her head toward the living room. “You should go say hello.”
A peal of laughter echoed in from the living room—Bea—then a woman’s voice.
My heart did something I wasn’t used to.
I recognized that voice.
I squeezed Forrest’s shoulder before I moved to the entry to the living room…
…and for a second, it was like I was back in New Mexico last July.
Daniela was sitting on the floor—cross-legged, long dark hair down nearly to her waist, in jeans and a worn t-shirt that looked entirely alien compared to her usual designer looks from social media. Bea was in her lap, facing her as Daniela made these ridiculous faces while Bea cackled uncontrollably.
She did it again.
Bea grabbed her face with both fists and shrieked.
“You think that’s funny?” Daniela said, pressing her nose to Bea’s cheek. “Huh? You tryin’ to mess with me?”
