"Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're even born." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
When eight year old Beau Ruby met twelve year old Colton Caine, she had no idea she was meeting the love of her life. She had no idea she'd grow...
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Jack had been the big brother I never had but had always wanted for ten years before I left. He was as constant in my life as Colton had been. I saw him every day. He was at the house all the time helping Aunt Verne, and she was always baking him cookies, bread, and pies of all kinds.
In the summers when it was really hot, he'd trade her the task of watering her flower beds for a plate of her lasagna. She always took him up on the offer, but I knew Aunt Verne loved taking care of flower beds. I think she let him help her because of how charming he was. He had no problem telling her to sit down and put her feet up while he worked. He was more outspoken than Colton, and he had a charming, silly personality that caused you to laugh with every other sentence he spoke. Being two years older than Colton meant he was helping Aunt Verne around our old farm house long before Colton was. He got things in and out of the attic. He carried crates of jars up and down the steps to the cellar. That was just Jack. He was always there, eating our food and asking Aunt Verne to sit down and just let him do it.
Seeing him climb out of that blue Tacoma was like seeing an oasis in the desert. The morning had been so bad with Colton. I had opened wounds that I had tried desperately to tape closed with flimsy bandaids. They were never healed, just protected from the elements with latex. Jack was a fresh band aid. He was the kind that stretched over your whole skinned raw knee when you had fallen off your bike into gravel and dirt. That's who Jack was. He was the calm in this morning's storm. He was my first glimpse of land when I had been at sea.
I stayed on the porch watching him as he walked up. He had hair slightly lighter than the color of cinnamon, and even though he kept it cut short, you could tell if you looked close enough that it curled at the ends. He was three inches taller than Colton with broad shoulders and toned, strong arms. He was wearing blue jeans and a blue T-shirt with the county electric association logo on the back. His boots made soft popping sounds as he walked up the steps.
He grinned when he got to the top. "He look half as bad as you do?" he asked me, studying my face. He reached out and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face to the side so he could see my cheek in all of its purple, shining glory. He didn't say anything else about it. He just dropped his hand and stretched out his arms, pulling me to his chest and squeezing me as I felt my feet leave the wooden floor of the porch. He was careful not shove my face into his chest as he used to do, and I was grateful for that. I stretched my arms around his back at his waist, trying to match his hug with my own. "Hey, lil bit," he said against my hair. If it was possible, I squeezed him tighter.
He set me down and moved to sit on the porch swing that faced the yard. He sank down onto it and the chains rattled before I walked over and sat down next to him. With his legs stretched out and his feet on the floor, the only part of my feet that still touched the porch floor were the tips of my toes. He bent his knees pushed with his feet, and the swing began to rock. I heard the familiar creaking sound of the chains as they swayed, pulled taught with the weight of our bodies on the swing. He stretched his arm out on the swing behind me and I leaned back against it. We rocked for a few minutes before he spoke again.
