Jenny didn’t say anything because words weren’t required. Compassion, love, understanding—these were the salves necessary to dress Ari’s wounds. Jenny had them in abundance for her best friend.
Both of Ari’s men were rightly pissed, and Jenny was glad to see they weren’t feeling guilty. This wasn’t on them, not one whit. This was just on Norah Benedict.
And how telling that none of her children ever call her mom or mother.
“I have to believe that Norah will get her just desserts,” Jenny said. “I know I’m naïve. But I cling to the belief that things generally work out the way they’re meant to be, and that just as living right has its own reward, so does the opposite. Holding malice and ill will close to the heart just taints a person, inviting a horrible kind of karma.”
“From your lips to God’s ears, girlfriend.” Air laid her head on Jenny’s shoulder for just a moment.
Jenny had told Ari once the reason she was so optimistic. Her life journey had convinced her of blessings just waiting to be gathered.
You go from being a baby who barely escapes being run over by the drunk driver who orphaned you to being adopted into a good home, and now a wonderful community, you have to figure you’re blessed.
Jenny Collins had no doubt at all that she was indeed well and truly blessed.
* * * *
“You snore worse than my last girlfriend.”
Parker sat up, stretched as best he could in the passenger seat of Dale’s F150, and then shot his brother the finger.
“I’m more congenial than your last girlfriend, too.”
Dale laughed. “Well, you got me there. But that snoring of yours? I’m serious. Dude, maybe you have a deviated septum or something.”
“I don’t know about a deviated septum, but I think my sacro may have become permanently separated from my iliac. These seats weren’t meant for sleeping in.” Then Parker pitched his voice to sound like a child. “Are we there yet?”
Dale chuckled again, a sure sign that he was tired. “I think we’re a couple hours out. You didn’t sleep that long.”
“I slept enough.” Parker had always needed less sleep than his brother. “Do you want me to drive?”
“No, I’m good, but I could sure use some coffee.”
“That makes two of us.” He grabbed up the GPS and began the coffee search. “We’re coming into a town called Coleman.” There’d been only farm and ranch land around him when he’d opened his eyes, but he could see town up ahead. “Sit down or drive-thru?”
“Sit down. I need to stretch my legs a bit—and pee.”
“Me, too. Yeah. Okay, here’s a restaurant. And it’s just up ahead, about three miles or so, on the right.”
Dale found it easily enough, and there was curb parking, which was handy. They got out of the truck, stretched, and looked around.
“It’s hotter here, no question,” Dale said.
Parker nodded. “Cord said it gets really hot and humid starting…” He looked at his brother and huffed out a breath. “I guess starting about now.” July, as usual, had been pretty warm in Billings—into the high eighties. This felt closer to a hundred, with enough humidity to fill a towel.
“I didn’t think it would be that much different,” Dale said. “But the longer I stand here, the hotter it seems.”
He stepped up onto the sidewalk, and they walked into the Texan Diner. It was exactly what Parker had hoped it would be. Dale headed straight to the can, and Parker settled into a booth. It was about two in the afternoon on hump day—Wednesday—and there were only a handful of customers present.
A man came out from behind the counter, two menus in hand. “Hey there. You looking for a meal or just some tea?”
“We’d like some coffee, if you have it.”
The man grinned and nodded. “Just made it fresh.”
He left the menus, likely in case they changed their minds, and brought the pot with two mugs. Dale slid into the booth across from him, and the server poured out the brew.
“Where’re you fellas from?” he asked.
“Montana. On our way to visit kin.”
“That’s a drive,” he said. “Y’all still got snow on the ground up there?”
Parker sensed he was kidding him, or at least he hoped he was. He grinned, deciding to play along. “Naw, it melted just before we left. I guess snowboarding season is over.”
The man chuckled and left them to their coffee.
“Did you text Jackson?” Dale asked.
“Thanks for reminding me.” Parker pulled out his cell phone and sent their cousin an update. They’d been keeping him apprised as to their progress, right after they left the family ranch. Parker shut that thought down because every time he thought about his asshole oldest brother refusing to let them get their horses, he got mad all over again. They’d had a place to take them, folks he knew he could trust to take care of the two until they came back to Montana.
Truth was he hadn’t trusted his brothers not to take their anger at them out on the horses.
His cell phone pinged announcing a response to his text. Parker read it and grinned.
“He said he’ll see us soon, and supper will be practically ready when we get there.” He slid his phone away. “I have to tell you, I never expected the reaction we got from the family to posting that video.”
Dale stirred some sugar into his cup then took a long, bracing drink. He sat back and sighed. “We shouldn’t have been surprised. Our mistake was thinking they’d feel the same way we did—that what Norah was planning to do was beyond a disgrace.”
“Yeah. I guess we should have known every one of them would look at the situation from the lens of ‘me.’” Parker met his brother’s gaze. “We did the right thing, and I do not regret it.”
“Neither do I. It’ll be good
