She’s Gone Country Read Online Free

trashed and we’re seriously sleep-deprived.” Marta hesitates. “So how are your three? Coping better with John’s lifestyle, or is that still an issue?”
    I sigh and open my eyes. “They don’t really talk about it, but I know it’s a struggle, especially for Bo. He doesn’t want to get on the phone when his dad calls, and he definitely doesn’t want to hear about John’s life with Erik.”
    Marta digests this. “And Bo’s depression?”
    I feel a swift, hot shaft of pain. Bo’s the one I have to watch. Bo’s my worry. “Seems okay for now. But I’m keeping an eye on him. Determined to stay on top of it this time.”
    “Sounds like we’ve both got our hands full.” Marta’s voice is full of sympathy. “But we can do this. We’re strong. Damn tough. And besides, you’ve got the best heart, Shey, you really do. No one loves more than you do.”
    My eyes suddenly burn, and I’m glad she can’t see me because my lower lip quivers. I bite it, hard. “We are tough. And Bo’s going to be fine. We’re going to get through this. It’s just going to take some time.”
    “Love you, Shey-girl.”
    “Love you, too, Ta. Let’s get together soon.”
    And then, ending the call, I jump off the back of the truck and walk a brisk, fierce circle around the yard, my heart thumping like mad.
    Bo isn’t crazy. Bo isn’t like my brother Cody. Bo is going to be okay.
    I walk another frenzied circle, and another, and another, until some of the suffocating fear in me fades and my pace slows and my pulse returns to normal. It’s only then that I head for the house.
    This is life. Life is full of ups and downs. We’re going to be fine.
    And my boy Bo is going to be fine, too. There’s no way I’ll let him become another Cody.

Chapter Two

    L ater that afternoon I see my mother off, and the moment she’s in her car, heading east for Jefferson, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. Sounds mean, but hosting Mama for a week felt like a root canal without anesthesia. I’m just glad she’s gone and won’t be back until Thanksgiving, which is still—thankfully—over nine weeks away.
    In the house I strip the sheets from the master bedroom bed, which is where Mama slept, before starting a load of laundry. I contemplate what to make for Sunday night dinner (usually it’s beef, beef, beef, since we are a cattle ranch), but nothing in the freezer looks good. The sun pools on the kitchen floor, and I want to get out. Go do something. Something preferably fun.
    That’s when I decide to track down the boys and see if any of them are up for a matinee movie.
    Cooper and Bo enthusiastically endorse the idea. Hank, my oldest, declines, says he has homework he needs to finish. I suspect it isn’t true, but I don’t push it. I’ve learned the hard way that you can’t make someone enjoy being with you. Instead, I go online to check movie listings at Fandango. Because we’re in the middle of nowhere, everything’s a drive, and the question is whether we can make do with one of the movies showing at the Brazos in Mineral Wells, a twenty-minute drive, or do we have to make the trip all the way to Weatherford, which is a forty-five-minute drive.
    Fortunately, the boys find a movie they want to watch in Mineral Wells, and if we leave now, we’ll just make it in time. We arrive as the previews are showing, and since the movie’s been out a few weeks already, the theater is almost empty and we have no problem finding good seats.
    It’s not my kind of film, but as the only female in the family I’m used to our diet of action-adventure thrillers. I sometimes miss the days of Disney and Pixar films, but there are also advantages to having bigger kids. I don’t have to take them to the bathroom. I don’t worry (as much) about them being kidnapped. I know they can cross a street and navigate traffic and drop and roll should their clothes catch fire.
    Still, they’re my kids, my boys, and I glance at them once, twice, during