The Patriot A Small Town Romance - Jennifer Millikin Page 0,3

information. It was his way of ascertaining if I’d been up earlier than usual, if my sleep had once again been plagued by nightmares.

“Early, Gramps. The sun came up early. And it’s a damn good thing I was out too, because a jackass cowboy missed one and she was out there by herself all night.” As I say it, I look out in the direction of the field where I found her, though I can’t see it from here. My family’s land is too vast.

“Troy?” Gramps asks, immediately knowing the culprit.

“Yeah.”

“What did Troy do now?” My brother, Warner, steps from the house. He’s tall like me, and just about as broad-shouldered. I’m two years older, and as I constantly remind him, far more handsome. Once upon a time, Warner was deliriously in love with his high school sweetheart Anna. They were married before they could legally buy alcohol. A few years later they had a kid, and a few years after that they had another. One day not too long ago, Anna decided she needed space to find herself, and she left Warner and their two kids, now nine and twelve, behind. Apparently to find herself, she needed to lose everything else. She settled a couple hours away in Phoenix and still hasn’t served Warner with divorce papers, and he’s too hung up on her to initiate the proceedings himself. He tries to stay upbeat for Peyton and Charlie’s sake, but I can tell he’s hurting badly inside.

In my book, Anna and Troy are about on the same level. Two people whose collective common sense doesn’t add up to a whole lot.

“He left a heifer out overnight,” I answer Warner, my gaze sweeping away from him.

“Shit,” Warner mutters. “Wolves get her?”

“No.”

He breathes an audible sigh of relief. “What did you do?”

I stretch my right leg out and lean back, wincing slightly at the strain. I’m only thirty-seven, but this body has been put through hell. “Went to Cowboy House and woke him up. Told him he’s about as useful as a flaccid dick in a whorehouse.”

Gramps howls with laughter as his coffee sloshes over the rim, little brown specks seeping into the porch’s wood floor. “The military sure taught you a few things,” he says, grinning, “not the least of which was a foul mouth.”

I shrug as Warner walks closer, coming to a stop at the porch railing. “Some habits are hard to break,” I explain.

“Like waking up and riding around before the sun comes up?” Warner asks, his gaze fixed on me.

“How would you know unless you’re up too?” I counter.

“You’re not the only early riser in this place. Most of your family gets up just after you. We’ve all seen you riding out, a lone cowboy on his horse. The exception is Wyatt, obviously.”

Of course. Wyatt, the youngest of us three boys, is always sleeping off the night before, if he’s come home at all. I’m not sure how much longer our dad’s planning to put up with it. I’m surprised he hasn’t kicked his ass out yet. On a ranch, everyone contributes.

The front door opens loudly and Jessie leans out, one hand planted on her hip and a sharp look on her face. She’s the youngest of the four Hayden siblings by nearly twenty years (from me, the oldest), and she’s always up to something. We started calling her ‘Calamity Jessie’ before she was coordinated enough to run, for two reasons. One, she was walking chaos, always into something. And two, she swore like a sailor and had a wildness about her, just like Calamity Jane. She’s seventeen now, and she’s tucked away a lot of her personality, but I bet it’ll return when she’s older and more comfortable in her own skin. In a few months she’ll pack up her car and move two hours south to Phoenix to attend Arizona State University. I don’t even want to begin to think about the mischief she’ll cause there.

Jessie directs her glare at Warner. “I told you to come tell these two breakfast is ready.”

Warner lifts his palms in front of his chest. “I got distracted. Wes was using military phrases again.”

I shake my head and stand. “Shut up, Warner.” I reach out a hand to help Gramps, but he bats it away.

“The day I can’t stand up on my own is the day you can lay me in the ground next to Janice.” He gives us all a hard look and uses the chair’s armrests to help