Sam
passed by the main house and drove around back, parking his little car in
front of his mom's house. He knew she would be inside the main house right now
but that gave him time to get settled in before the questions began. He needed
that time to figure out what he was going to say to his mom. Explaining away
the last five years wasn't going to be easy.
Sam
climbed out of his car then went to the trunk to grab his stuff. There wasn't
much. He hadn't taken the time to grab more than the basics before fleeing.
With one wrist in a cast, he had to make three trips to get everything inside.
After stacking everything in the corner of his room, he sat down on the side
of the bed.
He
hadn't expected his room to look the same as the day he had left. He had been
hoping to maybe just stay on the couch or something until he could get on his
feet. Sam flopped back on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm. This had
been unexpected. He didn't know what to think. It was like his mom expected
him back at any time.
That
was a good thing, right?
"Samuel?"
Sam
smiled when he heard the front door open and close and his mom's voice calling
out to him. He jumped up off the bed and raced out into the living room. He
stopped at the end of the hallway and just stared at his mom, the woman he
hadn't laid eyes on in five years.
"Damn, you just get more beautiful with age don't you?" He grinned when a soft
rosy flush filled his mom's cheeks. Gods, he loved the woman. "I hope that's a
trait I get from you when I'm older."
"Samuel."
Sam
didn't try and suppress the tears that came to his eyes this time as he rushed
across the room and into the arms his mom held out to him. He buried his face
in her neck and inhaled as deeply as he could. Everything in his world settled
as the sweet scent of lavender filled his senses.
"I
missed you, Son."
"I
missed you too, Mom."
Sarah Bishop leaned back and ran her hand down the side of Sam's face, her
eyes searching his. "How long are you home, Son?"
Sam
shrugged, glancing away. "I'm not sure, Mom. I have some thinking to do before
I make any decisions."
Sarah nodded. "Does Jesse know you're home?"
"Jesse?" Sam frowned. That was the same thing that Gabe had asked him. Why was
everyone so interested in whether Jesse McCaffrey knew he was home or not?
"No, why would he?"
Sarah's mouth pressed together for a moment, a pensive look wrinkling her
forehead, and then she shook her head. "You need to let Jesse know you're
home, Son. He runs the place now."
"I'm
not here to see Jesse, Mom."
Really.
He
wasn't.
"You
still need to let him know that you're back, Son. He's going to want to know."
"Why?"
"Samuel."
Sam
knew that tone. It was the one that said mom was putting her foot down. He
could argue with her until his face turned blue but it wouldn't do him any
good. "Fine." Sam sighed deeply. "I'll go tell Jesse that I'm home."
Sam
didn't understand why everyone was so all fired up about him telling Jesse
that he was home but if it would get everyone off his back, he'd do it. Right
after he got done throwing up from the butterflies swimming around in his
stomach at the thought of seeing the man again.
"He's out on the range right now but he should be back soon." Sarah patted
Sam's arm. "Why don't you go wait for him on the front porch of the main
house? I'm sure he will want to see you the moment he gets back."
Sam
seriously doubted that but who was he to argue. Sam leaned in and gave his mom
a small kiss on her cheek then walked out of the front door. His stomach was
clenching and his palms felt damp and clammy.
Maybe coming home wasn't such a good idea. He had intended to avoid Jesse at
all costs. Now, it looked like everyone was doing everything they could to
make sure he was placed right in Jesse's path.
Sam's steps slowed as he rounded the front of the house. He stopped at the
edge and looked toward the front of the house. His eyes settled on the long
porch that ran the length of the front of the house. His memories of the place
were good and bad.
The
wide stone front steps that led up to the thick double doors were where Jesse
had kissed Sam for the very first—and last— time. The steps were also the
place Jesse had been standing the last time Sam ever saw him.
Sam's feet felt like lead weights as he walked toward the steps. He could
think of a million different places he would rather be than right here. Well,
he didn't mind being home so much. He just didn't want to be in the crosshairs
of Jesse McCaffrey.
That
scared him more than Desmond did.
Sam
walked to the edge of the steps then climbed up to the top. He turned and sat
down, resting injured wrist on his thighs. He didn't know what Jesse did
around the ranch anymore so he didn't know how long he had to wait.
The
cloud of dust coming up the driveway at a break neck speed was a big clue. Sam
swallowed hard and pressed his cast against his stomach as he tried to quell
his nerves and hold it together long enough to get away without losing his
composure.
Jesse McCaffrey was coming for him.
And
he looked pissed.
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