Page 115 of Ashes of the Past
Jack doesn’t hesitate. He dismounts and runs toward my dad, his movements fluid and quick. My stomach lurches as I watch Jack approach him. Dad doesn’t seem to notice him at first, still wandering aimlessly through the brush, his steps unsteady.
“Dad!” I shout again, but this time I can see him stiffen, his eyes darting around as if he doesn’t recognize us.
“Dad, it’s me! It’s Brynn,” I call out, my voice frantic. But he doesn’t respond.
Jack is at his side now, his hands gently touching Dad’s arm. “John, it’s me. It’s Jack.”
For a moment, my dad stiffens, his eyes narrowing, and then, in a flash, he takes a swing at Jack.
“Clay, I’ll kill you for coming back here!” Dad yells.
I gasp, my heart in my throat, as Jack dodges the blow and steps back, trying to calm my dad.
“John, I’m not Clay. It’s Jack. I’m here to help you.”
I’m frozen in place, watching Jack with my dad. There’s no aggression in Jack’s movements, only patience. He doesn’t flinch when Dad swings at him again, and he doesn’t try to fight back. His voice remains calm, his tone soothing. “It’s okay, John. You’re not alone. We’re here to help.”
I feel a lump form in my throat as I watch Jack with my dad. There’s a softness in his actions, a quiet strength that settles my nerves even as the situation feels out of control. I’ve never seen him so gentle, so understanding.
Dad still seems confused, his brow furrowed as he looks at Jack like he’s not quite sure who he is. But Jack doesn’t falter. He doesn’t rush him. He just keeps talking, his voice a steady stream of reassurance.
“It’s okay, John. You’re safe. We’re gonna get you home.”
And somehow, in that moment, everything shifts. The fear that’s been clawing at me—the fear that something is wrong with my dad, that we won’t be able to save the ranch, that Jack and I will never be okay—melts away. Watching Jack with my dad, I realize something I hadn’t let myself see before: It’s not just about the ranch. It’s not just about the land or the water. It’s about the people we care about. And right now, Jack is proving that he cares.
I had convinced myself that Dad thinking Jack was Clay was some sort of omen, but seeing how patient and kind he is right now tells me otherwise.
My heart melts as I see Jack help my dad stand, guiding him gently toward the horse. There’s no hesitation, no fear. Just a quiet strength that makes me feel like maybe everything is going to be okay after all.
We make our way back to the house, Jack walking beside my dad, helping him along. As we reach the front door, the EMS team is waiting for us, ready to check Dad over. I stand there, my chest tight with emotion, watching them work.
I’ve been letting fear control me, letting it dictate every decision I make. But I can’t keep doing that. I have to make a change. Not just for me, but for my dad, for Jack, for Olivia. So nothing like this ever happens again.
I watch Jack as he talks to the EMTs, his voice steady and calm. And I know, in that moment, that he’s the one I need to rely on. He’s the one I’ve been shutting out, but he’s also the one who will help me make this right.
And maybe that’s what I need more than anything right now.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jack
“I’ll be right behind you guys. I don’t want to leave my daughter behind,” Brynn tells the paramedic.
“Got it. We’ll take care of him from here,” the paramedic replies.
I stand on the edge of the driveway, watching the ambulance disappear into the distance. The headlights cut through the darkening evening; the only sound is the hum of the engine and the soft whisper of tires against gravel. I should feel relief, knowing that John is on his way to get the help he needs, but all I can feel is this gnawing sense of helplessness in my chest.
Brynn stands a few feet away, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, her head down. She’s pacing, back and forth, eyes darting to the horizon like she’s expecting something to happen. Her shoulders are tense, her movements erratic, and I can see the way fear has taken root in her. I know exactly how it feels to be this scared, this out of control.
I want to go to her. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her until all this madness fades away, until we can both breathe again. But I’m not sure she’ll let me.
She doesn’t see me at first, and for a brief moment, I hesitate. I don’t want to push her, not now. Not after everything that’s happened today. But then I see her shoulders slump, and the walls that she’s been holding up so carefully start to crack. It breaks me in a way I didn’t expect.
I take a deep breath, step forward, and then I’m there. I don’t wait for her to turn around or acknowledge me. I just do what my heart is telling me to do.
“Brynn,” I say gently, my voice rough from the strain of the day. “Come here.”
She freezes for a moment, and then she slowly turns toward me, her eyes wide and full of a vulnerability I’ve never seen in her before. It tears me up inside, the way she’s trying to hold it together, trying so hard not to let anyone see how scared she is.
