Page 135 of Feels Like Home

“You think I should go find her?” Chet grabs onto Noble’s shirt, talking way too close, a pathetic expression on his face.

“Right now?” Noble says, gently pushing him back a bit. “No.”

Chet blows out a breath, then pushes a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled than it already was. “I can’t lose her.”

“Where are you staying?” Noble asks.

“Crashing at my parents’ house,” Chet says. “I’m thirty-four, and I have to sleep on my parents’ couch because my mom turned my bedroom into a frickin’ indoor greenhouse or something. Plants everywhere. There’s a cactus where my bed used to be.” His expression changes. “Wait. Can you take me to see Jenny? I need to get her to take me back.”

“Definitely not,” Noble says. “How about I drive you to your parents’, you sleep it off, and tomorrow, when you wake up, you clean yourself up and ask Jenny to go get coffee with you,” Noble says. “Talk it out.” He looks at me. “Be honest with her. But don’t tell her you’re going to change if you’re not going to change.”

Something inside me stills.

“What if she won’t go with me?” Chet practically whines. “She said she never wants to see me again.”

“Then you respect that decision,” Noble says. “Either way, dude, you gotta get your act together.”

Chet is crying now. Soft, pathetic sobs. I absently wonder if I should run out to the cabin for the hangover kit, but opt to stay put.

Chet grabs onto Noble. “Never thought I’d live to see the day Noble Kane told me to get my act together.” He says Noble’s name like it’s a swear. “You . . .” he points an unsteady finger at Noble, “ . . .are the king of bad decisions.”

“Not anymore, my guy,” he says. “And hey. If I can get my act together, then there’s hope for you.”

Chet looks at me and whispers loudly. “Forget what I said before. He’s one of the good ones.”

Noble stands and helps Chet to his feet.

“I never liked you,” Chet says.

Noble shakes his head. “Never liked you either.”

Chet laughs. “Why you being cool to me now?”

“Eh, we all do stupid things sometimes,” he says, walking Chet toward the door. “We’re going to go out the back way. I’ll drive you home, and tomorrow, let me know if you need a ride out here to get your truck.”

Chet stops in the doorway and stares at Noble longer than feels comfortable. Then he raises his hand and slaps it on Noble’s shoulder. “Okay, man.”

As they start off in the direction of the parking area, Noble tosses me a look over his shoulder. I lift a hand in a grateful wave as Chet’s knees buckle, and Noble helps him stand back up. “Whoa, buddy, stay conscious just a little bit longer.”

I watch them disappear up over the ridge, as Quent walks up beside me and hands me a bottle of cream soda. “Did Noble just walk Chet Cline out of here?”

“He did.” I take the bottle and twist off the cap.

“Dang,” he says, tapping his bottle to mine. “Cheers to fresh starts, right?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Noble

The morning after the wedding, I wake up early and find Hattie in the kitchen. She and Rowena are in the middle of preparing a huge breakfast spread, and I gotta say—she makes an apron look good.

“Whoa,” I say when I walk in. “It smells amazing in here.”

Hattie picks up a slice of bacon and bites it in half. “Bacon or cinnamon?”

“Both,” I say. “Is this part of the guest experience?” I walk over to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup, then check her mug to make sure she doesn’t need a refill.