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had to buy her stretchy pants.”
    OMG. My mother did not just tell Jackson about the stretchy pants. But she did because she also fetched a photo from the display shelves by the sink. She thunked it down before him.
    There I was, blue stretchy pants, belly out to here, pizza stains on my shirt.
    Jackson gazed at me over the frame. “It’s okay really,” he said. “I went from being average height to being the tallest kid in the class. My pants were all too short, and I heard the jokes. Of course, Texas jokes are of a different sort.”
    “How so?” This was interesting, me having never left the state.
    “They all have a drawl to them.” He wriggle d his jaw and adopted a prolonged tone. “‘Ain’t never seen no pants that short. You could wade the crik and not get wet.’”
    I giggled. “Did they really say that?”
    “Yes, and worse.” He handed my mother back the photo. “Seems like you turned out well to me.” His eyes were roving again, which was more than mite uncomfortable given my mother and my brother’s presence.
    I ducked my head.
    “What’s the matter, sis?” Travis asked. “Can’t look at your new beau? You kissed him yesterday.”
    We were back to that. Back to the kiss. And in front of my mother.
    “You kissed him yesterday?” she asked.
    “It was … it was all a joke,” I said. “I did it for Esther.”
    Saying that was the most awful thing ever because Jackson was sitting there looking at me, and I’ d just belittled it and by extension, him. No girl almost-dating a fellow should do that.
    Trust him to save me.
    “It’s okay,” he said, “The next time’s mine, and that won’t be a joke.”

CHAPTER 7

    Lucy came out from her room wearing a cornflower blue dress, the perfect shade for her pale complexion and sun-kissed hair. Jackson stood in place, entranced.
    “What do you think?” she asked.
    He stirred himself , forcing thoughts through the sieve of his brain. “You look beautiful.”
    She smiled, then in true Lucy fashion, raised her right leg and propped it on the bottom rung of the kitchen stool. Her skirt rode up to her thigh. “You like the boots?”
    Boots. Yeah, and your legs, too. He concentrated on her feet. The boots were chocolate brown hand-tooled leather.
    “They’re nice,” he said. “The girls in Texas had boots like that.”
    She lowered her foot. “So you were looking at the feet of Texas girls?”
    Well, he hadn’t meant it like that. More, if you live in Texas, you wore boots. Except for him. He refused.
    “No. But I’m not blind,” he said.
    This must have satisfied her because she dropped the subject. “Did your dad say you could take the car?”
    His dad. His dad had blown up at him over it. “The car? Why? So you can show off for the girl next door?”
    Jackson shook his head. “Sorry. He was sore at me for asking.”
    She frowned. “Well, it’s okay. You can ride with us.”
    They wedged into her mom’s car – Travis in the front passenger seat, she and Jackson in the back – and made the drive. He started at sight of the church.
    Sometime in the last three years, the members had erected a modern building beside the tiny square chapel he remembered from his youth. Sprawling across what was once a wasteland, it sported huge paned-glass windows and an enormous drive-through porte cochere.
    A kink formed in his neck as he gazed at the entrance.
    Lucy grabbed his hand. “C’mon, we’ll go find everybody.”
    Everybody, at first, consisted solely of Owen. At sight of him, Owen’s face lit up. He raised his hand, and Jackson clasped it, pounding his back.
    “Man, never thought I’d see you again,” Owen said.
    Famous last words.
    “Never thought I’d be back.”
    Lucy released his fingers to hug some lady’s neck.
    Owen followed her movements. “So, you and her serious?” he asked.
    Jackson studied him. Owen had become stocky in the last three years. He looked more like a football player now than someone on the basketball