Chapter One

"This ain't Texas. Ain't no hold 'em. So lay your cards, down, down, down, down, down." – Beyonce

September 20, 2008

Jazmine

There was so much dust.

That was what Jazmine Dubois thought to herself as she dragged her luggage into her grandmother's family style home.

With Jazmine being laid off, it only made sense for her to go and watch her grandmother, who had a pinched nerve after attempting to drag water bottles into her house

When was the last time she had even been home? Even she was struggling to remember.

She'd been living out in San Francisco since she'd graduated from UCLA in Animal Sciences. She'd initially wanted to be a vet, but when her knowledge base landed her an amazing job plus benefits working with data and a significant sum of money at 22? She'd taken the job and sworn to her family she would go to veterinary school later, but nine years later, that day had never come

Maybe if it had, she wouldn't be here right now.

It was demoralizing to go from such a high priority position, a gorgeous home in San Francisco, lunches, to nothing. Not to mention that she had no man, no children, no money leftover from her savings or her retirement fund. She'd gone from having everything to having nothing at all.

Just like that.

The recession had started shortly after December in actuality. Right before the annual Christmas party, her and her coworkers had seen men, lining up in suits one by one with boxes before their CEO stood before them in rare form, an odd look on his face she couldn't forget,

"We're sad to announce-"

Sad to announce that a whopping 50,000 positions had been eliminated.

She'd said she was going to save. But she hadn't.

She'd said she was going to pay off her credit. But she hadn't.

She'd said she was going to do a lot of shit. But she hadn't.

And boy was she wishing that she had.

So she'd sold her house. It was either that or let it go into foreclosure.

Her parents had been extremely gracious. Too gracious in her opinion. She would have much rather them yelled at her that she was a grown woman, and that she could figure it out herself.

Instead, Tom and Sarah admitted to her that they had actually hoped she would return to their home in Woodcrest for ages and had sworn that several people were going through tough times. They expressed that they were happy to help, that they missed her, and that they would love for her to come home until she found her footing. Jazmine declined. She didn't feel ready to face the embarrassment of going home to Woodcrest, where she would undoubtedly be the talk of the town. A failure, an irresponsible grown woman who had nothing or no one but her own parents to fall back on. A loser.

So, when her grandmother ended up needing her thanks to a pinched nerve and a recently deceased husband, she rushed down to Oklahoma immediately.

Not because she was thrilled to be there.

Or thrilled that her now widowed grandmother needed her so badly.

It just felt good to be needed for a change.

"Your grandfather would be so proud," Her grandmother, Lydia smiled up at her. At 4'6", her grandmother was very petite in contrast to the now tall and slender Jazmine.

Lydia was still a beautiful woman, strongly resembling Diahann Caroll. She still held that same air of refinement and swagger. That perfect balance. Even at 65. Jazmine often wondered how her dad turned out the way he had being raised by her grandparents. They'd always been so confident, so strong, so assured.

Meanwhile, Jazmine and her father seemed to make awkward fumbles to and from life.

"Um," Jazmine scratched her ever growing ponytail, suddenly unsure of what exactly to say, "Yeah, sure, he said that a lot before. I'll set my stuff in the guest bedroom."

"Oh no you don't," Lydia called after her granddaughter, "We need to talk."

"About what?" Jazmine raised a brow while gazing around at the bright living room. The same green couches with the perfect hardwood flooring. It still smelled like home.

"I'm worried about you, Jazmine," Lydia started, sighing, "I just. I don't understand why you isolate yourself from your parents, your friends, from me."

"I'm right here," Jazmine's arms flew across her suddenly heavy chest as if that made those words any less true. Any less of a sting.

"You know what I mean," Lydia looked at her, suddenly making her feel ten years old all over again. Her brown eyes staring into Jazmine's green ones, "What are you going to do when we're gone? You're in your 30s, and you still seems so unsettled."

"I'll be able to find another job," Jazmine raised a brow, "Especially out here. Way less competition, and I should be out of your hair in no time."

"It's not about money, Jazmine," Lydia stared at her before walking around the couch where they had been standing to flop down on it. Turning on the Wheel of Fortune, "You're not in my hair at all.

"Then what," Jazmine swatted a mosquito finding refuge on the waistband of her jeans, "is it about?"

Her grandmother looked at her blankly. Her mouth opening, then closing, and opening again, "It's about how unhappy you seem."

Jazmine jerked back as if she'd been slapped. She knew that her grandmother was right. She wasn't happy. She hadn't been in quite a while now. She'd just been floating along the wave called life. Moving from thing to thing.

But now she was ready.

"I'm fine Grammy," Jazmine surprised herself with how assured she did sound, "I'm the one who came here to take care of you for a change."

Her grandmother's eyes rolled upward, "Little girl, I changed your diapers. If anything-"

"If anything," Jazmine calmly repeated before gently placing both her arms around her, "I owe you everything."

"Now that," Her grandmother chuckled, "is a good save."

Jazmine nodded before grabbing her bags to head towards the guest room. Her eyes shifting around the living room to the boots near the staircase, swallowing the surprisingly large lump in her throat as she struggled to tear her eyes away.

She didn't know why her grandfather's death seemed to rattle her so much even six months later. She'd always called him once a week. Sometimes, twice, and they'd had a great relationship. Even when she was smaller, he'd always called her his little cutie before handing her an orange, and they'd had a great laugh over their daily knock knock jokes.

And the way that he looked at her grandmother. God, he'd looked at her like he'd just met her. Even if they had been married for over 43 years.

Her grandparents had gone everywhere together in Oklahoma. To get water, to the bank, to the fancy new chain restaurant up the street. They were more than just lovers. They were truly each other's best friends.

The entire town adored them. Every day, they looked out for both of her grandparents. They would carry their heavy items, they would fawn over them, and they would just love on them. Literally just smile and speak to them. At the funeral, the entire town had been there. Even more upset than Sam's own son had been.

So when he had died, collapsed on the ground after he had suffered a large fall. His left hand clutching his chest, and his left reaching out for his wife, who had fallen asleep in the room far away...

Jazmine shuddered.

By the time Lydia woke up, he was long gone. Her normally warm eyes, even now, contained a coolness that Jazmine couldn't fully place.

So there they were.

His boots. Jazmine's memories. Their grief. Their love. And the refusal to believe that the people you love, who raised you, have to move on without you.

That you may have to live without the people who love you the best.

To know that she should've gone home more. That she had promised him that she'd come there, only to avoid him because she was, well, embarrassed of how she'd turned out.

To know that she failed both her grandparents, her parents, herself.

She could not escape the heaviness of what if.

Maybe if she'd come visit when she promised. If she had been here, with them to help them out. Maybe she could have helped get him the help that he needed instead of the entire town, banding together to do what she had refused to.

Then, maybe her grandfather would still be here.

Maybe she wouldn't have had to hear how much the people in Jefferson, OK had heard so much about her.

Maybe she wouldn't have to avoid the guilt in her grandmother's features.

The feeling spreading from her gaze to the pit of Jazmine's stomach.

This house. This place that was once so full.

It was just so empty without him. No jokes, no hugs, no oranges.

The only thing left behind were his boots, the echo of her grandmother's TV, and their guilt.

Jazmine didn't know if she would ever be free of that feeling.

She wasn't sure if she deserved it.

Huey

"FREEZE!", Hiro's four year old popped out behind a small bush, trying and nearly succeeding in startling, Huey Freeman.

His hands lifted quickly. His eyes wide as he stared back at his friend. There was so much blood on the ground.

Fuck, there was so much blood. So much that he could feel his own draining down to the pit of his stomach.

"His heart rate is dropping," The EMS looked down from Ceasar's unconcious form to stare up at the fifteen year old boy, "What the hell, kid? What were you thinking?"

He'd ruined everything. And he'd never forgive himself for as long as he lived.

"Ahhhhhh," Hiro scooped his son Ryuji into his arms, watching him giggle, "Too slow."

The little four year old giggled before picking up his small sunglasses and running off. The pitter patter of his feet clacking loundly on the pavement.

"Hey, man," Hiro gestured to Huey, "You good?"

Huey snapped out of it instantly.

"Of course," He sounded so sure of himself he almost believed it, "Just thinking about all the stuff we have to do around here."

The ranch had gotten so busy in the past few years that they barely had time to breathe.

From prepping for the crops, fertilizing the crops, caring for the livestock, managing the books, handling the taxes and daily administrative tasks, and the outreach program with the kids, they could barely keep up with the workload. Especially now that they were getting older.

Hiro had settled down, first. He had fallen in love with Paloma almost instantly. He had everything at 31. A house, a beautiful growing family with a house about five blocks from the ranch. Their son, Ryuji, was one of the brightest spots of the ranch, and his wife Paloma always seemed to radiate an intense light of her own.

They'd met at the grocery store. Hiro gazing at Paloma for their entire grocery store visit for their outreach program instead of stocking up for snacks for the kids. After about thirty minutes, Huey had strongly encouraged him to introduce himself instead of stumbling over the cart everytime they were in her vantage point.

Now, the pair had become inseparable. They had been from the moment they had introduced themselves nearly four years ago. Hiro had never been happier, and the guys had to agree that if anybody out of them deserved to settle down more, it was him.

He was proud of his friend. Since they were sixteen years old, Hiro had always proven himself to be a strong and loyal friend. And he now considered him an additional younger brother.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Huey playfully smirked before gently shoving Ryuji back from his poorly executed attack. Watching the little boy sigh and huff before his eyes focused on the woman in front of him, sighing.

"Mommy! I missed you," Ryuji ran to Paloma's side as she happily placed her arms around him.

Paloma was a beautiful woman. Native American, petite, and a firecracker to boot. There was something special about the way that air moved around her. As if she was unmoved, always relaxed under pressure. She was incredibly levelheaded for her age and worked hard to advocate for Native American product placement with retailers.

Between her and Hiro's extensive knowledge of agriculture and timing, the pair had seemingly found a system that worked.

"My little rancher," Paloma swooned. Playfully trying to pinch Ryuji's cheeks as he wriggled away, "Where's your dad?"

"I'll get him," Ryuji's voice let out a breathy giggle, "Daddy! Mommy's here! Daddddy!"

"Huey," Paloma gave him a quick hug, "How are you?"

Huey cast his eyes upwards before snorting. He was busy. He was tired. He was irritated. So, not exactly great.

At 35, he felt like he was still playing catch up with everything. He rarely hung out with his friends as much as he'd used to.

It's not like he was doing poorly. He was still far ahead of the curve, even as an adult.

But….

Something was missing.

And until he figured out what that something was, he needed time to himself.

Time to think.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Paloma suggested, "You can't blame yourself for something that happened 20 years ago, Huey. There's no way that you could've known. He has to know that. You have to –"

"I have to know what, Paloma?" Huey snapped back. His maroon eyes squinting at something in the distance, "I have to pretend like I didn't ruin his life? Like my bad call didn't ruin everything?"

Paloma watched as Caesar slowly trudged his way up the hill. His right leg never quite catching up to the speed of his left. The light in his eyes fading year after year.

"It's not," Paloma grabbed Huey's eyes, listened to him, "It is not your fault, Huey."

"Then who's is it," Huey started, "Because the last I check-"

Caesar cleared his throat, staring between the two of them. He was 6'5". His dreads had grown longer, and he had mellowed out a lot over time. His anger had given way to an eerily serene level of wisdom that many wished they possessed. But he was still the same five year old kid who he'd clicked with instantly in Chicago all those years.

Caesar's dark eyebrows raised as he stared at the both of them, unable to ignore the lingering feeling that they had been talking about him.

"Huey, Paloma," Caesar nodded his head, "What are you too fussing about?"

"Nothing," Huey got up, grabbing his rope, and heading towards one of the barns nearby. Caesar tried to reach out, tried to stop him, but he was slightly too slow. And that made his guilt even worst. Caesar had been the fastest out of all of them as teens.

"Don't forget that Mr. Dubois' granddaughter is in town," Caesar broke the silence, "You at least have to come out of hiding to introduce yourself."

"I don't have to do a damned thing," Huey shot back. He had turned around in the middle of the pathway to the barn just to stare at Caesar as if he had grown two large heads.

"You promised," Caesar reminded him, "You promised him that you'd take care of them if you needed to. How are you going to know if you don't at least swing by and see for yourself?"

"Their granddaughter is a grown woman," Huey returned Caesar's gaze, "I'm sure she's more than capable of taking care of herself and her grandmother. She doesn't need me poking around when I don't even know her."

"So get to know her," Caesar said, "You can't keep blaming yourself-"

"You don't know what I keep doing," Huey remarked. That same cooled edged response bringing out the worst in Ceasar again as he physically recoiled from him.

"Huey, look, it's been a while," Caesar finally spoke up, "To say the least. But you can show your face. It wasn't your fault. "

Huey knew instantly that Caesar wasn't talking about checking on Sam's wife and grandaughter anymore.

He grabbed his water canteen and took a sip. Silently walking the rest of the distance to the barn.

Southern hospitality be damned.

She didn't need a grand welcoming from him.

The more he stayed away from them and focused on maintaining his Aunt Cookie's ranch. The better off she would be.

He was destined to be alone.

But something inside of him, fluttering, beating, shaken in a way that didn't make sense, reminded him that he was wrong.

"Caesar!" He called before his jaw went slack. His best friend already in front of the door. A smirk on his own features.

"You'd better get a move on," Ceasar smirked, "You know how Cairo is."

Huey grabbed his leather jacket before snorting.

Caesar wasn't exactly wrong. Cairo was like the bloodhound of new women in town. Of course he'd take advantage of Lydia and Sam's grief-stricken granddaughter. Especially if she was as beautiful as everybody had proclaimed the week after the funeral. Describing her as the perfect piece of sunshine. The town had been murmuring about her every since, and of course, the biggest playboy in town was excited to offer his condolences- and maybe more if Jazmine would allow it.

So he'd go over to introduce himself, keep his promise, warn her to stay away from Cairo, and then keep his distance.

He didn't need distractions right now.

He grabbed his keys before revving up the pickup truck in front of him,

"Cmon, man," Huey kept his eyes forward, "Let's go."

Author's Note:

And yeah, that's it. Review, favorite, follow ya girl. Thank you to my first reviewer!

I hope you all enjoy the ride.

Next chapter coming soon.