A Second Chance in the Show Me State - Jessie Gussman Page 0,29

would face it and win.

Except, that hadn’t been true.

Not even two years later, she’d taken one of the boys and been gone.

He hadn’t seemed to care.

At least, he hadn’t come after her.

She had no idea that picture would still be on his bedside table.

He had no idea, she was sure, that she still wore it around her neck.

Why hadn’t they changed that picture?

She had plenty more pictures of Houston, and just as many of Dallas, but that was the picture she cherished.

The picture of all four of them together as a family. The first one.

Standing there in the middle of the room they used to share, staring at that picture that had meant so much to her, her throat tightened, and she had to bite her lip to keep her eyes from pricking and filling.

It hit her that all the years between then and now were wasted.

But her mind wouldn’t allow her to let her guard down long enough to try to turn the ship of her life and have it going in a direction that she actually wanted it to go. She felt helpless against the current or the wind or whatever that was pulling her away. And maybe, she’d gone too far to ever turn around again.

She sighed, trying to push those thoughts aside. Yesterday was gone.

She didn’t know if she would have tomorrow.

But she could make memories, beautiful memories, with her boys today. Opening the door that led to where Reid kept his clothes, she rooted around until she found a western shirt, one that was soft and worn from a lot of washings. One that she remembered from before she left. She smiled a little, because it didn’t surprise her that he still had shirts that he’d worn in high school.

The man hated shopping.

Turning, she put on the too-tight pants, the too-tight T-shirt, and her husband’s soft shirt that somehow smelled of him and was way too big but still fit her just right.

She didn’t know what he’d think when he saw her in it. She could always say it was the only thing up there that fit, but she really could have worn one of her old shirts. Just like she put on a pair of pants that were too tight but would work.

Somehow, she’d rather wear his.

If he said anything about it, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to admit the truth—that she simply couldn’t resist the opportunity to wear his shirt.

Chapter 9

“Here, Mom. You stand here. I want to stand next to the water container. I’m really thirsty.” Houston pulled back away from the bed of the pickup and squeezed in between Emerson and the water container, pushing her closer to Reid, who leaned against the bed of the pickup right next to the cab.

“If you’re thirsty, someone could fill up your drink for you,” Reid said, watching as Houston shuffled Emerson down.

Emerson’s body jerked stiffly, like she was trying to keep from getting any closer than she had to. She hadn’t even looked at him most of the day.

Although, to be fair, what she was doing—driving alongside the combine pulling the wagon—took concentration. If she didn’t pay attention, the wagon would stop or go too fast and move out from under the chute of the combine. If that happened, they would lose shelled corn on the ground.

He didn’t have to explain to her that every piece of corn that dropped on the ground was a piece they couldn’t sell.

But now they were taking a break, eating the sandwiches they’d packed, and leaning against the side of the pickup, and he was free to look at her and enjoy it.

She used to wear his clothes all the time, and although it was annoying in some ways, since he’d go to get his favorite sweatshirt, and it wouldn’t be in the drawer where it belonged, he loved it in other ways.

Like now. Seeing her leaning against the truck, her cheeks red, her hair windblown, her eyes sparkling as she moved gracefully, though somewhat stiffly the closer she got to him, in his shirt.

Yeah, it was probably a caveman thing, but he definitely liked it.

He sighed and looked off into the distance at the hundred acres that still needed to be harvested. He should be thinking about something else, because she’d been very clear that she wasn’t interested in having anything to do with him.

He should be the same way. Except he wasn’t.

“It’s hotter than I thought it was going to be today.” Emerson