Page 73 of Love Wells Kept

“You cheap bastard.” Denny shakes his head.

“Hot springs would be good,” I agree.

My bobber bobs once more, barely tugging the line. I don’t move. Instead I watch it float steady again on a lake surface the sun’s stitched in gold.

I want to fall in love with my wife again.

And a single weekend might not be enough, but maybe finding our footing again starts with a cabin, some quiet relaxation, an opportunity to forge the connection we’re both longing for, and a view of her in a bikini—

Shit. I’m definitely not going to be able to keep my hands off my wife if I see her in a bikini.

Dad casts his line out again, then shifts his attention to me. “I can stay in the house with the kids. It’s, uh, getting a bit less hard to spend time there, and Beryl stayed with them the entire time you were in the hospital. She deserves a break, too.”

In my excitement over seeing Kate in a bathing suit, I momentarily forgot about Odessa and Rhett, and the fact that they’d need a babysitter.

“Thanks, Dad. That would be great.”

He nods. No problem.

Austin shifts in his seat to slowly bring his line in, keeping the rod held tight between his knees so he can spin the reel with one hand and sip coffee from a beat-up old travel mug with the other. Such a big guy looks goofy in a tiny little folding chair, even goofier all hunched over the way he is now.

The air’s quiet, save for the gentle whir of Austin’s reel and the zipping sound of a plastic baggy filled with beef jerky. Denny shoves a chunk of thin, brown jerky into his mouth and awkwardly crouches—not wanting to fully lift his ass from the chair—to offer it around.

The final stretch to give a piece to Austin is the straw that broke the camel’s back. The wood dock’s a little slippery with morning dew and lake condensation, and the feet of Denny’s chair slip out from underneath him. In a kerfuffle that surely scares away what few fish were anywhere close by, my brother goes down, nearly taking out Dad in the process.

The sight of Denny and every last one of his belongings spread across the dock is impossible not to laugh at. And boy, do Austin, Dad, and I laugh. Our howls carry clear across the lake, bouncing off trees and echoing far up the valley.

Groaning about the pain in his knees—and making a that’s what she said joke at his own expense—Denny crawls across the slick wood surface to fish his now-empty plastic bag from the lake.

He pouts, staring longingly at the beef jerky sinking to the lake bottom. “That was the good kind.”

“Hopefully the fish agree,” Dad says, reaching to wipe tears away with the back of his hand. “Should’ve held on tighter.”

“Should’ve kept it all for myself instead of offering it around. No good deed goes unpunished.”

The dock creaks as Denny collects his stuff, then ensures his chair is perfectly stable before sitting back down. A loon calls somewhere along the far shore of the lake, and I relax into my chair, face tilted toward the sun.

Here with them, I like this life. I’m more Jackson Wells than ever before.

Kate

You’d think by now I’d have a method for making sandwich loaves that doesn’t involve destroying the kitchen, but unfortunately there’s flour dusting every surface and a mountain of dishes whispering rude things to me as I sit down and enjoy my coffee. I’ll get to the dishes shortly, but first I want to take advantage of this rare moment of silence.

Rhett’s outside helping Beryl in the garden—under Cecily’s supervision, of course. And Odessa’s softly humming to herself as she focuses on her homework at the kitchen table.

The coffee warms its way down my throat before settling like a blanket in my stomach, and an exhale from my nostrils blows small ripples across the milky surface.

Then the front door hinges squeal, raucous laughter warbles through the quiet home, and heavy cowboy boots tread down the hallway. Austin briefly stops in the entryway, narrowed eyes sweeping the kitchen before spotting his wife in the garden—Odessa and I don’t even get as much as a grunt in greeting on his hastened walk outside.

Denny strolls in hot on his eldest brother’s heels, adjusting the fit on his backwards hat and immediately pulling up a chair right next to Odessa so he can pester her. His chair scrapes against the floor as he shuffles it to get even closer, peering over her shoulder and pointing out a mistake in her math.

“You smell like fish.” Odessa turns up her nose, pushing her uncle away.

“I smell like a winner. I caught the biggest fish today.” He picks up a colored pencil and fills in an empty space on her multiplication table.

“Dad caught three times as many as you, though.” The low pitch of Jackson’s voice fills the room, and I shift my gaze to the archway connecting the hall to the kitchen. His broad shoulder leans against it, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. A day spent outside has left him rumpled, loose-limbed, and sun soaked. His complexion is infused with vibrant color from the spring air. Locks of dark brown, wavy hair are disheveled, practically begging to be played with.

He looks more like my husband than I’m used to seeing since the accident. It takes my breath away.