months ago.” The words when she said them still felt like sharp rocks in her throat, scraping painfully to the surface. “After he died,”—there was the scrape again—“Caleb and Travis were left with the farm to take care of, as well as Mama too.”
Mattie leaned toward Jo, giving her a comforting squeeze, “I’m sorry to hear that, Jo. It must have been difficult to leave your family so soon after your father passing away.”
The conversation was becoming uncomfortable for Jo. She wasn’t ready to open those parts of herself up to others yet. Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she deftly changed the subject. “I have a sister at home too, Krissy. She is the youngest out of the five of us and the most spoiled little sister a person could have. She’s engaged to be married soon…” Jo’s voice trailed off.
Still resting on the porch, Mac noted the quick change of subject and the muted ache as she mentioned her sister’s wedding. She was pretending to be happy; he knew the act well, having mastered it himself. Something about her sister’s wedding caused the tone in her voice to change; Mac was sure of it. Even at a young age he’d had the knack for hearing what wasn’t spoken out loud. He remembered the doctor patting him on the back when he was eight years old, saying, “It’s all right, son. Your Ma will be fine. She just needs a bit of rest.” Mac had run from the house, climbed up into his favorite tree, and cried uncontrollably; Mother was dying, an inflection in the doctor’s voice had told him so.
Jo rose from her chair, interrupting Mac’s thoughts, “I think I will head upstairs to finish my letter,” she announced, comically crossing her eyes at Leif as she passed him.
A grin broke across his face; it was nice to have someone to be playful with. “Retreating to your room, huh? Afraid Mac will read the awful things you’ve written about him?” he teased, attempting to drag Mac into the fray.
Jo lingered at the doorway, watching Mac and his indifference to Leif’s jibing. Opening the screen door, she replied, “Unlike you, Mac has no interest in my opinion of him.”
Jo’s comment went unnoticed by the rest of the group, as Charlie rose to say his goodnights too, but in the dimming light, without moving from his position in the slightest, Mac raised penetrating eyes to Jo’s—her veiled meaning not lost on him.
She’s right, he thought. What she writes to her family is of no consequence to me . The words harsh, cruel , and unrelenting filtered into his mind. He was all of those things and would continue to be as long as he thought it would benefit the ranch. She held his stare until the screen door slammed, breaking the intense friction between them.
In the tranquility of her bedroom, Jo slumped onto the bed, relieved to be free from Mac’s presence. She was constantly on edge around him. Before he had joined them on the porch, Jo was perfectly happy enjoying the companionship of Mattie, Kirby, Charlie, and Leif. The moment she’d heard Mac’s approach, she’d tensed, like prey sensing danger from its predator. Her cheery friendliness had never allowed her to feel this way before, always making friends and putting others at ease immediately. Confused by her own edgy and defensive behavior, she could only attribute it to Mac. He disliked her. Had insulted her not only for being a “woman,” but also not being “womanly” enough, and the few unfortunate times she’d bumped into him in the house had resulted in a silent but clear message that she was unwelcome.
Jo pulled the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows, rotating her palms up to examine them. A row of broken blisters in a half moon shape spread across each of her palms. The edges were raw with flaps of clear skin partially obscuring them. Jo pinched a small bubble of skin between her fingers and slowly peeled it off the blister, wincing in pain. She leaned over the stinging sore and blew a cool breath over
Mattie leaned toward Jo, giving her a comforting squeeze, “I’m sorry to hear that, Jo. It must have been difficult to leave your family so soon after your father passing away.”
The conversation was becoming uncomfortable for Jo. She wasn’t ready to open those parts of herself up to others yet. Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she deftly changed the subject. “I have a sister at home too, Krissy. She is the youngest out of the five of us and the most spoiled little sister a person could have. She’s engaged to be married soon…” Jo’s voice trailed off.
Still resting on the porch, Mac noted the quick change of subject and the muted ache as she mentioned her sister’s wedding. She was pretending to be happy; he knew the act well, having mastered it himself. Something about her sister’s wedding caused the tone in her voice to change; Mac was sure of it. Even at a young age he’d had the knack for hearing what wasn’t spoken out loud. He remembered the doctor patting him on the back when he was eight years old, saying, “It’s all right, son. Your Ma will be fine. She just needs a bit of rest.” Mac had run from the house, climbed up into his favorite tree, and cried uncontrollably; Mother was dying, an inflection in the doctor’s voice had told him so.
Jo rose from her chair, interrupting Mac’s thoughts, “I think I will head upstairs to finish my letter,” she announced, comically crossing her eyes at Leif as she passed him.
A grin broke across his face; it was nice to have someone to be playful with. “Retreating to your room, huh? Afraid Mac will read the awful things you’ve written about him?” he teased, attempting to drag Mac into the fray.
Jo lingered at the doorway, watching Mac and his indifference to Leif’s jibing. Opening the screen door, she replied, “Unlike you, Mac has no interest in my opinion of him.”
Jo’s comment went unnoticed by the rest of the group, as Charlie rose to say his goodnights too, but in the dimming light, without moving from his position in the slightest, Mac raised penetrating eyes to Jo’s—her veiled meaning not lost on him.
She’s right, he thought. What she writes to her family is of no consequence to me . The words harsh, cruel , and unrelenting filtered into his mind. He was all of those things and would continue to be as long as he thought it would benefit the ranch. She held his stare until the screen door slammed, breaking the intense friction between them.
In the tranquility of her bedroom, Jo slumped onto the bed, relieved to be free from Mac’s presence. She was constantly on edge around him. Before he had joined them on the porch, Jo was perfectly happy enjoying the companionship of Mattie, Kirby, Charlie, and Leif. The moment she’d heard Mac’s approach, she’d tensed, like prey sensing danger from its predator. Her cheery friendliness had never allowed her to feel this way before, always making friends and putting others at ease immediately. Confused by her own edgy and defensive behavior, she could only attribute it to Mac. He disliked her. Had insulted her not only for being a “woman,” but also not being “womanly” enough, and the few unfortunate times she’d bumped into him in the house had resulted in a silent but clear message that she was unwelcome.
Jo pulled the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows, rotating her palms up to examine them. A row of broken blisters in a half moon shape spread across each of her palms. The edges were raw with flaps of clear skin partially obscuring them. Jo pinched a small bubble of skin between her fingers and slowly peeled it off the blister, wincing in pain. She leaned over the stinging sore and blew a cool breath over
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