Page 44 of PenPal Hero

“I should pay Mom and Dad a visit this evening.” Bonnie abruptly sat back, letting her brother go. “I never should’ve let things get this bad between us.”

“They understand,” Jackson assured gruffly. “But they’d definitely appreciate that visit.”

Bonnie stood and held out her hands to Holt. “You should come with us.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He was deeply touched by what she’d left unsaid —that she considered him to be part of the family. Though his mom had finally remarried, it had been just him and her for most of his childhood. He liked the idea of expanding his inner circle.

They were soon bouncing up the gravel road in Jackson’s muddy brown pickup truck. For an older model, it was pretty tricked out. It had oversized tires, spotlights, extra antennae, and an upgraded sound system — pretty expensive stuff for a ranch manager working for his family. One that employed no less than five sons. The cattle business must be booming.

Bonnie gripped Holt’s hand like a lifeline as they approached the home she’d grown up in. It was a rambling farmhouse that had been added onto a number of times. Though the porch lights were off, it looked like all the other lights in the house were on.

When the lights came on inside the truck cab, her mother took one look at who was sitting there and came shrieking out of her porch swing.

She met Bonnie at the base of the porch steps, squealing and sobbing. “My baby!” She gave her beaming oldest son a tearful smile. “You brought her back to me!”

“I didn’t go very far,” Bonnie reminded, hugging her back. “I just needed some space to work through a few things.”

“I know. It’s okay, baby girl.” Her mother couldn’t seem to stop hugging her.

“I’m going to drown if you keep up the waterworks,” Bonnie teased, stepping back and pretending to wring out her shirt.

Her mother playfully swatted her hands. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like you were raised by your brothers.”

“I was,” Bonnie grumbled. “In the school of hard knocks.” Her fist shot out and connected with Jackson’s shoulder as he strode past her. “I no longer get mad. I just get even.”

Jackson held his shoulder and limped the rest of the way to their dad. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Preston Yates held up a hand to shade his eyes, pretending to gaze around the shadowy front yard in puzzlement. He jolted as his gaze landed on Holt. “Hey, Holt!” He moved around Jackson with his hand outstretched.

“Evening, sir!” Holt clasped it, grinning while Jackson continued to mutter about son abuse on top of brother abuse. “Where’s the rest of the gang?” He was surprised not to see any of Bonnie’s other brothers around.

“Ranch chores.” Mr. Yates seemed to be engaged in a silent conversation with his oldest son. “When one absconds, the rest of ‘em have to cover down.”

“About time.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “They take turns snoozing in the hayloft when I’m around to do the heavy lifting.”

His father grinned. “Speaking of heavy lifting, we need to rotate the herd from the west pasture to the south one in the morning. You ready to ride?”

“Is my middle name Allen the Great?” his oldest son scoffed.

“Sorry to break it to you,” Bonnie scoffed, “but the greatest thing you have going on is your inflated ego.”

“Burn.” Holt whistled.

Jackson gave him a withering look. “Whose side are you on?”

“Someone a lot prettier than you,” Holt shot back without thinking.

Mr. Yates chuckled. “I’ll say.”

Moments later, they were seated on the porch. Mostly. Holt took a knee beside the rocking chair Bonnie claimed.

She leaned toward her parents, who were back on the porch swing. Her father was moving it back and forth with the scuffed toe of his cowboy boot.

“I love you,” Bonnie announced in a tremulous voice. “So much.”

“We know, sweetheart.” Her mother’s eyes grew damp again. She lifted a crumpled white tissue to dab at them. “And we love you right back with all of our hearts.”

“You’re my family,” Bonnie continued shakily. “My real family. That’s what I came to tell you tonight.”

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