Page 1 of Before You Can Blink
Chapter 1
Jett
Age 14
July
Summerwashotashell in rural Oklahoma. Usually, during the long stretch when school was out, I’d be kicking it around town with my best friend, Wade Atkins, but he’d gone and broken his arm. The fool had gotten himself tangled up in the rope swing over the pond on the Anderson farm and, instead of dismounting into the water below, had crashed right back into the tree the rope was tied to.
Served him right for showboating for a girl.
Wade had half the girls of Rust Canyon swooning with a single tip of his hat, but I couldn’t be bothered with romantic pursuits.
Guys might get a bad rap for having a one-track mind—focused only on getting beneath a girl’s skirt—but the fairer sex had us beat by a mile when it came to their obsession with marriage and babies. Two things I was not at all interested in, so it was safer just to keep my distance.
I had dreams of getting out of this sleepy old town, and though the details of my escape plan were fuzzy, I knew it wouldn’t work with a wife and kids in tow.
With Wade out of commission, and having nothing better to do, I begged my pop to let me tag along when he mentioned he got a call for a job out on the Livingston Ranch, a ways out of town.
My old man grunted at the request, but with a single tilt of his head toward the pickup parked in the drive, I took off running. Figured if I was fast enough, he wouldn’t have time to change his mind. That, and I wanted to avoid witnessing the goodbye kiss my mom gave him every time he left the house.
It was bad enough that our bedrooms shared a wall, and most nights, the loud groans and breathless cries couldn’t be ignored, even with a pillow held tight to my ears. But to see the way my mother practically humped my dad on the doorstep, where anyone passing by on the sidewalk could see, added a visual aspect to their physical relationship that I could live without.
Honestly, it was a wonder I was an only child the way they were constantly on each other.
After what felt like an eternity, Pop hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition before backing out.
Milton Sullivan was a jack of all trades. If you needed something fixed or built in or around Rust Canyon, he’s the guy you called. And while I could respect that it was good, honest work that put a roof over our heads and food on our table, I wanted so much more for my own life.
I craved adventure, the thrill of seeing all that this world had to offer. I just needed to figure out how to make that happen.
Paved roads gave way to ones that were nothing more than a track of packed red dirt as we moved further away from town to where there was open country as far as the eye could see. Out here, you were more likelyto come across livestock than humans, and structures grew scarce as the plains stretched endlessly across the horizon.
Eventually, we turned off the dirt road and onto a gravel path as we drove under the wrought iron gate that marked the entrance to Livingston Ranch.
The truck rolled to a stop near a corral where several of the ranch hands were gathered, their broad backs blocking the view of whatever was going on inside the circular pen.
Pop hopped out, and I followed suit in time to hear him holler, “Got a call about a bum circuit breaker?”
One of the cowboys turned around. “Oh yeah. That’s out in the bunkhouse. We flipped the switches a dozen times, but it’s doin’ nothing. We’ve got no power, and none of us are too keen on taking an ice-cold shower tonight, even if it is hot enough out here to fry an egg on our foreheads.”
“You’re right about that,” Pop agreed, pulling a kerchief from his pocket and wiping the sweat away from his brow. “Someone wanna walk me down there so I can see if there’s anything I can do to get your power up and running today, or if I need to order extra parts?”
The man nodded. “Sure, give me a minute, and I’ll take you down there myself.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Got this unbroken filly just in, and the new guy’s about to jump on. Can’t pay for entertainment like this.”
With a hum, Pop stepped forward to take a look for himself. Walking in step beside him, I propped a foot on the bottom rung of the fence, resting my forearms along the top.
Inside the corral, there was a horse with a gleaming chestnut coat, huffing out sharp breaths from its nostrils. She was beautiful, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Though I was desperate to flee the country, I’d always had a fondness for the animals that played a big part in the lifestyle. My grandparents on my mama’s side had owned a bit of land, and growing up, they’d taught me to ride. Though they were no longer with us, I cherished those memories, and nostalgia washed over me as I watched the young ranch hand—who couldn’t have been more than nineteen—hop onto the saddle affixed to the wild horse’s back.
Immediately, the filly became agitated, kicking up her hind legs and tossing her rider around like a rag doll. Try as he might to hold on, he was unsuccessful in his quest and quickly fell to the dirt with a thud. I couldn’t help but wince in sympathy when wheezing breaths sounded as he rolled onto his side, indicating he’d had the wind knocked out of him.
The group that watched on burst out laughing, and one hopped over the fence to make sure he didn’t get trampled on while recovering from being thrown off his mount.
The man from earlier chuckled. “Nothing beats youthful arrogance. Kid watched no less than three of us get tossed and thought he could do better.” He clapped my dad on the back. “I’ll take ya down to the bunkhouse now.”
“Can I stay here?” I asked, hope leaking into my voice.
