Jessica Clare - Last Breath

Fortunately I’m building up immunity to it, so I’m only out of it for half the time. “So, Dad, it’s good to see you. Mom with you?”

He shakes his head. “Your sister . . .” He stops and clears his throat. The mention of Naomi makes me stiff as a board. “Your sister called and said she’s working on a project and that she can’t come home yet.”

“She emailed and said she was doing good.” I tell him. Part of my deal with Vasily is regular contact; sometimes he has to interrupt her to get her to conduct her daily check-in. Naomi gets lost in her own world a lot of the time.

Dad nods. “Yes.”

And then there’s nothing else we say to each other until Regan throws up her hands and cries, “For God’s sake. You two are impossible. Naomi called me and asked why we hadn’t gone to the ranch, and I said you couldn’t go home until she got back. She then told me she didn’t know when she was coming back, so we called your parents together. Daniel, your parents want you to go back.”

A rush of emotion rolls over me, and I stagger a step, grateful that Regan is right beside me. “Is that true?”

Dad nods, looking down at the floor at first, and then raises his wet eyes to meet mine. “We miss you, son. Your momma, she needs her boy.”

It’s hard to speak because I’ve got a big old frog in my throat, but after a minute I’m able to turn to Regan. “You wanna come see my home?”

She gives me that heart slaying smile and says, “I’m with you until my last breath.”

Regan

WE DRIVE DOWN FROM MINNESOTA to Texas so I can take my boxes of DVDs, my clothes, and my tiny hatchback car with us. Daisy weeps the entire time we say goodbye, promising to come visit. Nick looks as stoic and Ukrainian as ever, though he and Daniel exchange a quick, one-armed bro-hug before we depart.

It’s strange, but I’m not sad to be leaving Minnesota behind. It’s a clean break. I’m transferring my college hours to a local university. I don’t have much left in Minnesota that I can’t take a weekend and visit. And if Daniel is going to Texas, then that’s where I want to be.

We take a few days and drive down, stopping at rest-stops and taking pictures next to “WELCOME TO—” state signs for fun. We hit up a few tourist traps, eat at greasy spoon diners, and park the car and make love in the cramped backseat when we can’t stand it any longer. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had on a road trip. Every day that I wake up and see Daniel’s face next to mine in the bed, I am so thankful that he’s all for me, that he never gives up on me, even when I’m at my most needy and demanding. Not every guy would take up with a damaged girl fresh out of a whorehouse. But Daniel has never made me feel dirty or used or anything but incredibly beautiful.

So if he wants to go to Texas and help his parents on the farm? We are heading to Texas. There’s not a question in my mind.

Texas is definitely not what I expect. I guess I have nonstop cowboys and longhorns on my mind, so it’s surprising to me when I notice that the biggest thing about Texas is that . . . it’s flat. It’s flat for miles and miles around. There are some stumpy trees, but overall, there’s endless rolling grass. Daniel tells me that west Texas, which is where we are headed, is different from east Texas, which is nothing but trees. I think he’s pulling my leg, but whatever.

The Hays ranch is right smack dab in the middle of nowhere. I’m surprised when we turn off a road and see a big metal gate with a sideways H bisected by a D. “That’s our brand,” Daniel tells me, and there’s a hint of pride in his voice. It’s fascinating.

“And what is it exactly that you brand?” I ask him as we drive through the gate.

“You know. Steer, calves, blondes that don’t behave.” He gives me a waggle of his eyebrows that makes me snort.

“Guess I’d better behave, then,” I tell him in a sultry voice, and I love the fact that he groans and clutches at my knee.

“You’d better,” he tells me. “Because I can’t have wood in my pants when I hug my mom.”

I’m giggling as we roll down the long driveway and park in front of the ranch house. It’s a monstrosity of wood and stone and has a long, wrap-around porch. In any other state, it’d be called a mansion. Here, it’s called home.

As soon as we get out of the car, two people come out of the house. It’s Daniel’s dad and a woman with a cap of gray hair that must be his mother. She’s weeping and has her arms outstretched even before she makes it off the porch. Then she’s hugging Daniel and crying and his dad piles on, and they’re lost in their own little world for a few minutes.

Then, Daniel’s mother breaks away, wiping at her cheeks, and heads for me with her arms outstretched. “Oh my. This must be Regan. She’s so beautiful, Daniel.” And she envelops me in a warm hug before I can sidle away.

Her touch makes me stiffen for a moment, but then Daniel’s hand goes to my shoulders, and I’m okay. “Mom, I told you—”

“Oh,” she gasps, her hands flying away. “I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay,” I say quickly, before anyone can get offended. “I’m fine.”

She gives me a sweet smile. “I was so excited to see my new daughter.”

New daughter? Is there something I don’t know about? I give Daniel a suspicious look, but he only pulls me in for a kiss. “I told her we were a package deal. I think she took that as we’re getting married.”

“Oh,” I say, startled. “Like . . . right now?”

Daniel laughs. “Maybe not right now, but . . . soon?” There’s a question in his eyes, and I’m surprised and pleased all at once.

“Maybe when I get a real proposal,” I tease him, sass in my voice.

“Demanding little fighter,” he says, a grin on his face.

And then his mother is chattering up a storm, and his father has this patient look on his face that reminds me so much of Daniel in his quieter moments, and like that, we’re home.

Hours later, I’m crawling into bed with Daniel. The ranch house has a split-house plan, which I’ve never seen before. Daniel and I are in what feels like a separate little house, connected to the main house by a covered walkway in the back. There’s a bedroom, a luxurious bathroom, and even a tiny kitchen. Across from our little house is the pool, and in the distance are the stables. Daniel tells me the house was built as a mother-in-law cabin, but was never used until now. It’s perfect, really. We’re private enough from his family but close enough to spend lots of time with them.

The day has been a busy one. I’ve been given the grand tour of the ranch, complete with hundreds of longhorns, a trip through the barn, and a ride around the perimeter. It’s like they own their own little island of land.

I like that. It’s like a mini-fortress, but instead of gunmen, there are cattle. Either way, it makes me feel safe.

Daniel seems to be happy, too. There’s a light in his eyes that I never saw in Rio, and when he looks at me, he can’t stop smiling. I know what it is—his picture is complete. He’s found Naomi, and even though she won’t come home, she’s safe. He’s home with his family. He’s got me.

“Tomorrow,” he tells me as he drags my body against his and begins to press kisses on my neck. “Tomorrow, we ride horses, and I’ll show you the newborn baby goats. You’ll like those. Cute little buggers.” His hand slides to my breast and cups it.

“Mmm.” I drag my fingers through his hair. “Are you planning on turning me into a farm girl? Because I’m warning you, the moment something poops, I’m out of there. You might be disappointed.”