The Staying Kind by Cerian Hebert Page B

farmhouse. Her door was closed and there was no noise from within. He knocked quietly. For a moment he didn’t think she’d let him in. Finally, he heard her voice giving him permission to enter.
    She sat cross-legged on her bed, a schoolbook on her lap. Music played softly from the stereo on the shelf. So far her rebellion didn’t include loud music. Small blessings.
    “Homework done?”
    “Most of it,” she replied, her attention glued to the book.
    He wouldn’t give up. “How did it go at Aunt Sadie’s?”
    “Fine.”
    “Aunt Sadie wants you to start riding again.”
    No response except a flicker of emotion on her face. Longing? Annoyance? Travis couldn’t quite tell.
    He took a moment to study her. The black hair made her skin appear pale and her eyes darker. The severe cut couldn’t take the curls; in fact, the black locks curled more without the previous weight of the hair that had once grown nearly to her waist.
    Although she tried to concentrate on her book, Travis could tell her mind was elsewhere. Her jaw tensed, her eyes lost, as if seeing something completely different than the words on the page.
    “I don’t think your riding boots will fit anymore,” he continued, determined to reach her somehow. “We could go out and pick up another pair.”
    Jessa shrugged.
    “Well, think about it. Lights out in half an hour. I’m going to bed.”
    No response.
    “I love you, Jessa. Never forget it.”
    Jessa pressed her lips together into a tight line, but didn’t reply. Travis decided to leave it at that and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
    No, he refused to let go. He’d fight for her. And he had a feeling the fight had just begun.
    When he woke the next morning he learned how true those thoughts were. On his way downstairs he knocked on Jessa’s door. No answer, so he knocked again, a bit louder.
    “Jessa?”
    After a moment of silence, he pushed the door open. Expecting her to be under the covers, the sight of her empty bed surprised him.
    Generally a late sleeper, Jessa rarely awoke before him. No doubt he’d to find her in the kitchen preparing her breakfast. The kitchen, however, was silent and still dark. The only sound came from the back of the house. Rio must be awake.
    He hated to disturb her, but his nerves were on edge. Panic gnawed at him, his belly and his head, growing with each passing second.
    “Rio?” he knocked on the door loudly.
    “Hold on.”
    After several seconds Rio opened the door. Her hair was damp from a shower. She looked sleepy, yet startled, as she clutched the door and studied him warily.
    “You haven’t seen Jessa this morning, have you?”
    “No. I haven’t been out of here except to use the bathroom.”
    “Damn. She’s gone. Can you help me?”
    “Of course. Could she have gone for a walk?”
    “No, not likely.”
    “Let me get dressed. I’ll be right out.”
    “Thanks.”
    He headed through the house, searching for Jessa once more, in case he’d missed her. He called her name. Silence greeted him.
    Rio came out in less than two minutes, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. “Does she have any friends nearby?”
    Travis thought about, then dismissed Jessa’s closest friend. Tina’s family was tight-knit and respectable. Surely they’d call if Jessa had shown up at this early hour.
    The alternative chilled him to the bone. The Bartletts certainly wouldn’t be so neighborly and caring. He’d known them long enough to understand they weren’t exactly the most responsible family on the street.
    “Damn,” he swore softly.
    “You know where she is?”
    “I may.”
    With luck, if Jessa went to the Bartlett’s she’d be hanging out with the daughter, Brandy, who’d dyed and chopped Jessa’s hair. The lesser of the many evils at the Bartlett homestead. If his luck didn’t hold, Jessa would be with one of the boys.
    “Let’s go.”
    Travis held the door open for Rio. When she walked past, she paused on the porch. “Which