Chapter 4

Jamison picked Cole and Daniel up from the airport that Saturday afternoon, as Evelyn had told Cole he would before they took off. Cole had seen pictures of him online, but the changes were more noticeable in person. The Jamison Cole had left behind was a nineteen-year old scarecrow made of muscle. The three boys used to have contests of strength all the time—who could throw a hay bale the farthest, who could have the most tack strapped to them and stay standing, that sort of thing—and Jamison won more often than not, even after Cole and Owen started catching up in size. This Jamison, he had the same eyes, his adolescent scruff was now a full beard even bushier than Cole’s with more strands of silver, and he was as tall as ever, but compared to his younger self he was fat. Cole hadn’t believed it when he first saw it, but now here he was, giving Cole a cursory fraternal hug, and that spare tire around his waist was real.