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much younger than Jesse, with that same youthful innocence, wonderment, and fear.
    That boy hadn’t had anyone there for him either. He’d been fifteen years old, discovering who he was on his own, when his father had found him behind the barns kissing Bobby Joe MacCabe.
    It all played out so clearly in his mind, as though it were only yesterday.
    One minute Travis was enjoying the most earth-shattering experience of his life as he and Bobby Joe clumsily kissed for the first time. The next minute, he was yanked by his collar and slammed up against the side of the barn, splinters digging painfully into his back.
    His father, the man Travis had always looked up to and trusted without question, punched him in the gut so hard he felt like he was drowning, unable to pull air into his lungs. Still gasping for breath, the second punch rocked his head back against the hard wood. His vision grayed out, stars danced in a chaotic cloud, and he suddenly thought, Huh, you really do see stars. Just like in the comics. And it was almost comical. Until he crumpled painfully to the ground in a bloody heap when his father let go with a kick to the ribs, and told him to get off his property.
    It took close to an hour before he could pick himself up off the ground and stagger to the house. His body was on fire, and there was dried, crusty blood on his face. One eye was swollen near shut, and his side hurt so badly he could only take short, shallow breaths.
    He didn’t make it into the house. His father stepped out onto the front porch, arms crossed over his broad chest. “You don’t live here anymore. You’re no longer my son or a member of this family.”
    “Dad…” Travis pleaded. He couldn’t believe his dad was doing this. The man who’d taught him how to lasso a calf, shoe a horse, ride like the wind—the man who’d always been there for him.
    But apparently love was conditional.
    “Where am I going to go?” He spit dirt and blood from his mouth.
    His father yelled at him, face flushed with anger, “I don’t give a shit!”
    Travis’s head snapped back like he’d been physically slapped. He saw the faces of his family watching from behind the front window, looked to each one pleadingly. His mother wouldn’t meet his eyes. His own fucking mother! His older brother Randy sneered at him in disgust, and the oldest, his sister Gracie, was crying. She turned from the window and a moment later charged through the front door. Their father grabbed her by the collar and hauled her back.
    “Dad!” she screeched. “He’s hurt. He needs help.”
    “He’s nothing to us now. Go back inside.”
    “He’s my brother.” Gracie was crying, wailing, flailing her arms at their father, but the man didn’t even blink.
    “Get off my property before I get my twelve-gauge.”
    His father was gone. The man who stood on the porch with dark, killing eyes was a stranger. Travis had no choice but to turn around and leave. Gracie’s cries echoed in the distance as he lurched slowly down the long drive, leaving the only place he’d ever known.
    That was the last he’d seen of White Deer, Texas, or the people he’d once called family.
    A shudder ran through him. Travis slammed back the last of his beer, hoping it would drown the painful memory once and for all.
    He would be there for Jesse, like he’d wished someone had been there for him eighteen years ago.
    “Yes,” Travis said quietly.
    “Yes what?” Jesse asked confused.
    “The rumors are true.” He turned to face Jesse. “And that’s strictly between us. Understand?”
    Jesse nodded. “Understood.”
    “Not even Clay can know,” Travis warned.
    “I got it, Travis.” Jesse nodded again and his eyes turned serious, revealing comprehension beyond his years. “Between us. You’ve met my dad.”
    “Unfortunately.” Travis sighed. He stood up and added his empty beer bottle to the collection in the cooler. “And don’t hit on me. I’m too old for you.”
     
    Tension hung