Henry found himself unusually tired that evening, and after a supper of grilled pork chops, fried potatoes and green beans, he and Jessie moved into the living room to drink their coffee. Henry had planned on reading the rest of The Sacketts to Jessie that evening, but seeing how tired he was, Jessie offered to read to him for a change. Henry, settling himself onto the couch, happily agreed. She began reading and had only gotten a few pages into the story when Henry drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Jessie, noticing him sleeping, closed the book, took the afghan from the back of the couch and gently covered him up. She turned to go upstairs, then stopped, came back and kissed him lightly on his white forehead that dramatically contrasted the dark tan of his face. “Good night, Henry,” she whispered, touching him softly on his shoulder. He stirred, but did not wake.

Henry woke just before sunup the next morning, and realizing he had fallen asleep while Jessie was reading, wanted to apologize to her. He quickly slipped back to the bunkhouse for a shower, shave and a clean set of clothes, before returning to Jessie’s house. By the time he got there, an hour had passed and Jessie was already out of bed and had breakfast cooking. “French toast and fresh fruit this morning,” she chimed as Henry walked in the back door. “Go ahead and take a seat, it’ll be right up.”

Henry sat in his usual spot facing the stove, and placed his hat at his feet, as had become his habit. Jessie, still moving slowly, scooped five pieces of lightly browned French toast onto a plate, brought it over and set it down in the middle of the table. “I’m really sorry about last night,” Henry said meekly. “I sure didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that. I guess I was more tired than I thought and I apologize.”

Jessie walked over to Henry and kissed him briefly on the cheek. “Good morning, Henry,” was her only acknowledgement of his statement. She then turned and went back to the counter to retrieve the bowl of fruit she’d made up. Her gesture immediately put Henry’s mind at ease, but it was the kiss on his cheek that made his heart skip a beat.

“Maybe we’ll get a chance to finish the book tonight,” Jessie said, putting the bowl of strawberries, blueberries, bananas and melon on the table and taking her seat. “I can’t wait to see how the Sackett boys will get out of the fix they’re in.”

“You mean to tell me as many times as you’ve read that book, you still don’t know how it turns out?”

“How many times you read or hear a story has nothing to do with it,” she grinned. “Its all in the telling.”

“Maybe so,” Henry agreed.

Henry placed two pieces of French toast on Jessie’s plate, and three on his own, before taking a scoop of fruit from the bowl and covering his toast with it.