Home for Good. Jessica Keller

Al. You’re the one still locked up and suffering. And you will be until you offer forgiveness.”

      Ali shoved the bottle into her sister’s hands. “I have work to do. Thanks for the water.” She stomped back into the barn. Twine bit into her hands as she grabbed a bale of hay.

      Her sister could go chew on screws. Kate had no idea. She was so young when Dad died, and Ali had stepped into the gap to take Ma’s wrath. What did Kate know of suffering and pain and the consequences of sin?

      “Nothing.” Ali yanked a razor from her pocket and sliced the twine. Pulling the hay into even squares, she placed a bundle in each horse’s stall. Drover, playing supervisor, padded along, making sure each horse got their fair share. She caressed the dog’s head and smiled when he yawned.

      In the moments when Ali looked back at her short-lived marriage objectively, she could see the truth. The judge should have stamped disaster in bold red letters on the marriage certificate. In her needy state, did she drive her husband to the bar? In their small apartment, she’d watched the man who was supposed to save her morph into the man he most despised. Had it been her fault?

      She swiped away treacherous tears. Infernal hay dust.

      I was so afraid that I’d hurt you, Ali. I loved you so much.

      Jericho Freed, hurt her? Not possible, not the way he imagined. If she thought the man possessed any tendency toward violence, he wouldn’t be alone out there with her son right now.

      No. She saw the man she knew. A memory of Jericho taking a beating from his father to protect a runt puppy flashed through her mind. Then one of him at nineteen years old, stepping in between her and Ma, telling her she won’t be speaking to his wife that way anymore.

      Even that last night, with clear eyes, she could see that he left to protect her then, too. In his own way, Jericho always had put her first, but then what kept him from coming home? Didn’t he know how much she needed him the past eight years?

      Chapter Five

      Ten children tromped like a herd of mustangs around the dining room, over the checkered kitchen floor and out the back door as Ali tried to pull the last of the food from the fridge to set out on the table.

      “Don’t let the door—”

      The last child jumped the three steps down into the yard, and the screen door smacked against its hinges, tearing the hole in the screen a few inches wider.

      “I’ll fix the screen tomorrow.” Jericho took the heavy pile of plates from her hands and set them on the counter.

      Heat blossomed on her cheeks. He had no right to look that good in a clean pair of jeans and shined boots. His tucked-in, starched red button-down hugged the coiled muscles in his arms.

      The sight made her wish she’d taken another minute to give herself a once-over before guests arrived. But the emotional mess Kate had tossed on her that morning made her work slower in the barn. By the time she came back to the house, less than an hour remained until party time. Enough time to shower, but not enough time for makeup or to blow-dry her hair. Jericho probably thought she looked like a wet prairie dog.

      She waved her hand, dismissing his comment. “You don’t have to fix that screen. It’s been like that for months.”

      “I know I don’t have to. But I don’t mind. I have to come to tune that clank out of your truck anyway.”

      Kate stuck her head into the kitchen, a smile on her face as she looked between Jericho and Ali rearranging the table. “Need any more help in here?”

      Ali surveyed the room. “I think I’ve got the food under control. If you want to get one of the games started outside, that would be great.”

      Kate saluted and meandered out the back door. Satisfied that everything was taken care of, Ali turned, nearly slamming into Jericho. She gasped. She’d almost forgotten he was in the room with her. Alone.

      His gaze shifted down and up, then down again.

      “What are you staring at?” She wiped her hands on a dishcloth and tossed the rag into the sink.

      The hint of a roguish smile pulled at his lips. “You’re beautiful. I didn’t have a picture of you. For eight years I had to rely on my memory. Couldn’t do you justice. It’s nice to look at you.” Ali wanted to accuse him of lying, but his voice wrapped around her, ringing with sincerity.

      “Ha.” She tucked a damp clump of hair behind her ear, only to have the doggone thing fall forward again. “Then you need to get out more.”

      Jericho raised a dark eyebrow. “Nope. I don’t need to look anywhere else to know that this—” he swept his hand to indicate her “—is my favorite sight.”

      She harrumphed. “I’m all wet, and I don’t have any makeup on. And I’m pretty sure I’m wearing yesterday’s socks. Still the prettiest sight?”

      He leaned against the counter. “Yes, ma’am.” Teasingly, he continued, “But if you want to get good and soaked, I saw a horse trough out front I could dump you in.” He moved toward her.

      Ali swatted at his hands. With a laugh, she bumped into the garbage can. “Jericho Eli! Don’t you dare. I’m too old to get troughed.” She dashed behind the table.

      “Mom!” Chance burst through the door. “Can I open presents now?” A battalion of kids trailed in his wake.

      “Sure, bud. We’ll open presents in the front room right now, and then we’ll eat.”

      “Did you make your chocolate cake? The one made with—” he leaned toward her, knowing he wasn’t supposed to give away the secret ingredient “—mayonnaise?”

      She winked, and her son’s gray-blue eyes danced with merriment. As he clomped away, a wave of joy washed over her. Threatening letters, lawsuits and financial woes couldn’t touch her today.

      But an unwanted husband could.

      Jericho took her elbow, turning her to face him.

      “I may be asking you to kick me in the teeth, but I need to know.” Jericho stopped and looked down at his boots.

      Her heart lurched in her chest. The muscles on the side of his jaw popped, and Ali’s gut rolled in anticipation of his question. A drunk she could keep secrets from, but a man who proved thoughtful, patient and kind? Everything a father should be?

      But—no. He was still the same man who had run off on his wife without looking back, discarded his responsibility to her when it suited him and left his child growing inside of her. The shrapnel in her heart from his departure still chafed, and she wouldn’t open Chance up to that world of hurt. Jericho hung around for now, but he could still leave at any moment. A child deserved better than that.

      Walking to the sink, she turned her back to him and rinsed off a plate. “I don’t really have time right now.”

      His footsteps moved closer, but she didn’t dare turn around. He was so near. Ali’s breath caught in her throat. One look into his earnest eyes would unglue her resolve.

      He took a breath. “I’ve been thinking. I did the math...being Chance’s birthday today, and him turning seven...”

      Her hands gripped the cool metal of the sink.

      “It only leaves two options.”

      “Two?” Her voice came out small.

      “Unless he was a preemie. But he wasn’t, was he?”

      Ali locked her gaze through the window over the sink, to the corral. “No, Chance wasn’t a preemie.”

      She felt him take another step closer. “Then it happened when I was still around.”

      Spinning, she faced him, arms crossed. “It? It happened? I think you better go.”

      Her