If This Is Love

IF THIS IS LOVE JEWEL E. ANN CONTENTS Part I 1. A White Casket and Grilled Cheese 2. Drunk on Grief 3. Frisky Business in the Barn 4. Stolen Dreams 5. My Milo 6. The End of Innocence 7. The Kiss of Death 8. Favorite Place in the World 9. The Uncrossable Line 10. Keep Your Enemies Close 11. There Goes My Heart 12. The Wrong Woman 13. MINE! 14. The Boss’s Daughter 15. The Truth Hurts 16. Imprisoned 17. Never a Bridesmaid 18. Milo’s Women 19. Freedom Never Felt So Miserable 20. Just Stay Drunk 21. ’Til Death 22. Penance 23. Free Part II 24. The Sperm Donor 25. It’s Been Awhile 26. Cowboy Confidence 27. Tacos in Silence 28. Let Him Die 29. Who’s Your Daddy 30. Caught 31. Homecoming 32. I’m Sorry 33. The Mistress 34. Don’t Look Back 35. That’s for Indie 36. If You Let Me Go 37. If You Had To Choose 38. Not His Tears 39. Slighted 40. The Uncomfortable Truth 41. Unearthing the Truth 42. The Art of Forgiveness Epilogue Preview - The Naked Fisherman Also by Jewel E. Ann About the Author This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are purely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by Jewel E. Ann ISBN 978-1-955520-26-3 Ebook Edition All rights reserved. Cover Designer: Emily Wittig Formatting: Jenn Beach To all the mean girls in school, I forgive you. PART 1 1 A WHITE CASKET AND GRILLED CHEESE Fletcher Ellington purchased me for the bargain price of one million dollars. A gift for his wife, Ruthie. I was four years old. Ruthie sewed floral sun dresses and ran a boar-bristle brush through my hair every morning. She taught me to read Magic Tree House books, paint pictures to express my feelings, and question everything. We spent hours in her gardens, where I learned a tiny seed can turn into a “shit-ton” of zucchini. Fletcher’s word, not mine. Now, she’s dead. “Indie will be so lost,” Faye, Ruthie’s older sister, whispers to Grandma Hill while Ruthie’s casket disappears into the ground. It’s a polished white casket, shinier than Greg’s casket. He died last year in an ATV accident. I was sad he died, and his wife and daughter didn’t. I know that’s bad, but Pauline (Fletcher’s sister) and my so-called cousin, Jolene, are terrible people. Everyone on Fletcher’s side of the family is terrible. Jolene is seven years older than me, and I hate her. Ruthie told me never to hate anyone, but I can’t help it. Jolene never misses an opportunity to remind me that I’m an “impostor.” Children purchased like racing horses and livestock are not “blood” family. Someday, I’m going to get back at her. I’m going to take something that she wants. And I’ll stick my tongue out, even though Ruthie always told me nice girls don’t have to stick their tongues out. But I’ll do it anyway just to see Jolene’s freckled face turn red and steam shoot from her big nostrils. For now, I can’t think about stupid Jolene. Instead, I focus on birds chirping while the breeze carries the slight smell of manure up the hill to our gathering around Ruthie’s grave. Fletcher falls to his knees next to the grave. I can’t imagine feeling worse if he were my real father grieving my real mother. Greg used to say that blood is thicker than water, but Ruthie said he wasn’t using the saying correctly. “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” Ruthie said it meant the opposite. “The bonds we make by choice are stronger than the bonds of family (the water of the womb).” And the only reason Uncle Greg and my mom had this argument was because Greg thought Jolene was more deserving than I was because she was his biological daughter. I am the purchased livestock. Ruthie wasn’t Fletcher’s family by blood. Still, while his body shakes with sobs, hands clenching his white button-down shirt over his heart, I think back to Uncle Greg’s death. Fletcher didn’t cry. Not once. In my short ten-year life, I’ve quickly learned that love is different for everyone. Fletcher must have really loved Ruthie. That’s all I can figure out. What must everyone think of him sobbing like this? Like a child. He’s a king or maybe even a god. Nobody looks him in the eye, and everyone calls him “sir.” He swears. Smokes cigars. And makes people disappear, according to Pauline. She tells Jolene to be good or “Uncle Fletcher will tie you up and take you for a ride in his truck.” Jolene rolls her eyes, but I don’t know why. I once saw a man’s boot hanging out of the back of Fletcher’s pickup truck. And it was attached to a leg despite Ruthie saying it was one of Fletcher’s boots. I know what I saw. But now? It’s as if someone spun the world like one of those globes at school, and everything is backward or upside down. Fletcher Ellington crying? I wipe the tears. Fletcher’s been a good person to me. Good enough. I’ve always felt like he loved me because Ruthie loved me. Now that Ruthie’s gone, I’m not sure Fletcher has a reason to love me. Seeing him on his knees, I’m not sure he’ll love anyone ever again. Without Ruthie in the world, I wonder who will cry over my grave if something awful like cancer stops my heart from beating. Will they bury me in the Ellington family cemetery, or will I be composted like some animals that die here on the ranch? “You’ll come with us for a few days.” Faye rests her hand on my shoulder. Her silver and turquoise rings clink together. Ruthie wore pretty rings too. But Faye has fake nails where Ruthie painted her own nails to hide the dirt that got stuck under them from so much time in