Sam wanted to tell her how brave he’d thought she’d been, how glad he’d felt when she’d understood his gamble. It had taken all he’d had to keep himself standing after Carson had been shot. But he stayed quiet.
“What I’m getting at is,” Jessalyn said, “I don’t blame you, Samuel. Not for being afraid. Not for Amos’s death. Not for any of it.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. He’d thought hearing something like that would bring relief. But things were different now. “Well, that makes one of us.”
“Until my heart stops beating,” Jessalyn said after a moment.
“Hm?”
“That’s how Amos signed all his letters to me. ‘Until my heart stops beating, Amos’ .”
“That seems very like him,” Sam said. The words sounded morbid in his head.
“I think it was his way to remind me that nothing lasts forever. Everything will end, but it doesn’t have to cause sorrow. You still have the memories and a whole crop of new beginnings. Amos’s heart may have stopped beating, but there are so many more beating hearts out there. To teach, to heal, to love. I don’t have to die with him. He’s set me free, in a way. Free to see the rest of my life and make whatever of it I can. I feel silly for only seeing it now. And . . . I think it’s how he’d want you to feel, too.”
Sam nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” Maybe she was.
Jessalyn looked at him. “Thank you for coming out here with me. We can walk back now, if you like.”
“You go on ahead. I . . . I think I’d like a moment.”
“Of course,” said Jessalyn. She began walking towards the church building.
Sam knelt in front of the grave. He traced the carved A with his finger. “Saint Joy, you bastard. Why. Why would you give it all up when you had someone like her waiting for you? She may forgive you, but I’m not sure if I will. Not for that. You were a terrible man. And I’m even worse.” His hand curled into a fist. “. . . but I’m gonna make up for it. For once in my miserable life, I’m going to stay. I couldn’t protect you, but I’m going to do my damnedest to protect her. So, you can rest easy now. That’s all I wanted to say.”
Sam and Jessalyn walked through the town square, letting the people bustle by. Sam no longer attracted stares, people were even starting to know his name. It was a strange feeling.
“It’s funny,” Jessalyn said.
“What is?”
“I was just thinking. You were brought into my home to help me make friends around town, and you ended up becoming one instead.”
“I have a knack for charming my way through doors. You said so yourself.”
“So, I’m a little hurt that you didn’t tell me.”
Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Jessalyn Joy, what could I possibly have left to tell you?”
Jessalyn stopped walking and faced him. “I saw you’d pulled out your bag this morning. You’ve packed. You’re getting ready to move on.”
Oh. That. “Jessalyn, it’s not—”
“I mean,” she rushed on, “I should have assumed. It’s the lifestyle you’re accustomed to, drifting from place to place. It’d be hard to break from those habits. You’re probably bored of this town already.”
“Jessalyn?”
She cut him off with a hand. “You don’t have to explain or anything, I understand. I wanted you to know that.”
There was no use in trying to contradict her, he knew that well enough. He decided to play along instead. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I? Your hospitality and friendship have been a real pleasure, but you’re right. I’m moving out.”
“I see.” Jessalyn was trying very hard to keep her expression steady, and Sam fought to hold back his smile.
“Word on the street is a bar and hotel property were suddenly vacated and are in need of new ownership. I thought I might like to try my hand.”
Jessalyn’s surprise was as delicious as ever. “. . . what?” she said.
“Mamie Piper’s place. I sure liked what I saw of it on that first night, and I’m really not cut out for farm work. I’ve already started the arrangements. Roger helped me dig out the papers yesterday.”
“You . . . you’re staying?”
“I’m staying. You don’t mind, do you?”
Jessalyn shook her head, her bottom lip quivering just a bit before blossoming into a smile. “No. Not at all. Samuel Brooks, I’m glad to have you.”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There is, quite literally, no conceivable way I could have done this alone. Thank you to my family, Mom, Dad, and Jess, for the support and encouragement you’ve given me my whole life. Thank you to the original table read crew who saw this idea in its infancy. Thank you to Aidan, my beta reader, who convinced me to move forward with this whole project in the first place. Thank you to Jacquelin, whose advice helped me refine my vision and define my story. Thank you to Laura for designing a cover I fell in love with on the spot. Thank you to Michelle for patiently correcting all those misplaced quotation marks and copy editing my manuscript into shape. Thank you to Arley for singlehandedly teaching me about book marketing and giving me an amazing leg up. Thank you to Greg and the team at Enchanted Ink Publishing for taking this simple document and turning it into something beautiful. Thank you to Wayward Coffee Co. for being my writing haven almost every weekend. Thank you to Kaity, and the oodles of writers, poets, researchers, artists, and screenwriters I’ve met at Shut Up & Write. Without that community, I’d surely be lost. Thank you to everyone who read this far. Thank you all, with everything I have.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rachael Huszar kept her life steeped in stories from a young age, and she began her own journey in story-making when she reached adulthood. In the time since, she has taken up swimming, roller skating, and consuming D&D streams. She spends the bulk of her time with her dog, Silo, and works full time as a designer in Dallas, Texas.
www.rachaelhuszar.com
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