Jessie reached to her side, picking up one of the smaller pillows and handing it to him.
“How long is everyone going to lose sleep watching over me?” she asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Until we find the bastard. You mind if I change the channel?”
“Go ahead.” Scooting down farther in the bed, she plumped her pillow before closing her eyes. “Turn the television off when you’re done.”
“Okay.”
He was gone when she woke in the morning.
Leaving the bedroom after getting dressed, Jessie went to the kitchen and started cooking.
Making pancakes, she added chocolate chips to the batter while the bacon fried. After the griddle heated, she was reaching for the batter when she saw Holt leaning against the counter.
“You’re not going to church?”
“No.” Finding a ladle in a drawer, she poured some batter onto the hot griddle.
“You used to hate missing church, even when you were sick.”
“I’m not sick.” She expertly flipped the pancakes.
“You should go.”
“I’m not ready to go back to church. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”
“You can’t let one man change the way you live your life.”
She slid four perfectly formed pancakes onto a plate, then set it on the counter. “You can get the butter and syrup out of the refrigerator.”
Holt moved behind her, going to the fridge. “You want me to pour you some juice?”
“Please.” She scooped more batter out as Asher came in, scratching his bare chest.
“Is that bacon I smell frying?”
Jessie used her spatula to point at the plate on the counter.
Finishing the last of the batter, she turned the grill off and made herself a plate of pancakes, managing to nab a couple of pieces of bacon before dumping the rest onto his plate.
They ate without talking, other than the grunts of appreciation coming from Asher and Holt.
She was working on her last bite when Holt stood up, taking the dirty dishes away to stack them in the sink. He looked her critically over as he turned the water on. “Why don’t you put on something more presentable?”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“You have bacon grease on your shirt, and you should brush your hair.”
“No one is here but us. Why do you care what I look like?”
“Since Dustin called and asked if you were awake. He said to tell you that he and Logan will be here by twelve. They want to take you on a picnic.”
“It’s eleven thirty, and you’re just now telling me that after I ate a big breakfast?”
“It slipped my mind.”
Growling, she hurried to her bedroom to change her clothes. Choosing a hunter-green and white dress that fell to her calves, she then dug out the matching green boots. Instead of putting them on, though, she sank down to the floor, staring at them, lost in thought.
Jessie didn’t respond when she heard the light tap on her door, nor did she look up when it opened and closed.
Holt crouched down in front of her. “Dustin and Logan are here.”
“Tell them I’m not here.” She numbly continued to stare at the boots.
“I already told them you were.”
“Make up an excuse for me. I don’t want to go.”
“Why not?”
“Why does it matter? I figured it would make your day to get him to leave.”
“It would if you really wanted him to, but you don’t. As much as I love you, Jess, I can’t let you lie to yourself.”
She raised tear-filled eyes to his. “I can’t love him again. I bought this dress and boots to wear if I won the auction date with him. He couldn’t have cared less if I won or lost. I hate him.”
“No, you don’t. I really wish you did, but you don’t. You don’t have it in you to hate anyone, especially not Dustin.” He took her hands, forcing her to her feet, then leading her to the foot of her bed, where he pushed her back down.
“You two used to chase each across the front yard, and then, when I looked again, you both would be gone, getting into Lord knows what.” Holt went to her boots, bringing them back, then lifting one foot at a time to put them on her feet.
“If it makes you feel better to hate him, go ahead. But deep down, both of us know it isn’t true. You can’t turn love on and off like a water faucet. You just have to mop it up and fix the leak so it doesn’t happen again.
“Seems to me that Dustin is working awfully hard to fix his rift with you. What you need to decide is if you’re going to wash your hands of him or let him fix it so it doesn’t break again.”
“What do you think I should do?” she asked shakily.
“That’s for you to decide. What makes you happy makes me happy.” Taking one of her hands, he moved her to stand in front of the mirror. Brushing her hair down, he separated it into three sections before weaving it into a single braid. “Ready?”