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Back This Side of Night
Chapters (110)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. I
  7. II
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. PART TWO
  22. THIRTEEN
  23. FOURTEEN
  24. FIFTEEN
  25. SIXTEEN
  26. SEVENTEEN
  27. EIGHTEEN
  28. NINETEEN
  29. TWENTY
  30. TWENTY-ONE
  31. TWENTY-TWO
  32. TWENTY-THREE
  33. TWENTY-FOUR
  34. TWENTY-FIVE
  35. TWENTY-SIX
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. PART THREE
  50. FORTY
  51. FORTY-ONE
  52. FORTY-TWO
  53. FORTY-THREE
  54. FORTY-FOUR
  55. FORTY-FIVE
  56. FORTY-SIX
  57. FORTY-SEVEN
  58. FORTY-EIGHT
  59. FORTY-NINE
  60. FIFTY
  61. FIFTY-ONE
  62. FIFTY-TWO
  63. FIFTY-THREE
  64. FIFTY-FOUR
  65. FIFTY-FIVE
  66. FIFTY-SIX
  67. FIFTY-SEVEN
  68. FIFTY-EIGHT
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. SIXTY-ONE
  72. PART FOUR
  73. SIXTY-TWO
  74. SIXTY-THREE
  75. SIXTY-FOUR
  76. SIXTY-FIVE
  77. SIXTY-SIX
  78. SIXTY-SEVEN
  79. SIXTY-EIGHT
  80. SIXTY-NINE
  81. SEVENTY
  82. SEVENTY-ONE
  83. SEVENTY-TWO
  84. SEVENTY-THREE
  85. SEVENTY-FOUR
  86. SEVENTY-FIVE
  87. SEVENTY-SIX
  88. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  89. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  90. SEVENTY-NINE
  91. EIGHTY
  92. EIGHTY-ONE
  93. EIGHTY-TWO
  94. EIGHTY-THREE
  95. EIGHTY-FOUR
  96. EPILOGUE
  97. I
  98. II
  99. III
  100. IV
  101. V
  102. VI
  103. VII
  104. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  105. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  106. Excerpt from LOST RIVER
  107. LITTLE PARIS
  108. DILLON
  109. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  110. What’s next onyour reading list?

She didn’t know what Chris thought he’d do or where they’d go if they left Murfee . . . if he wasn’t the sheriff anymore. Focus on his writing, maybe, although she never knew if he was writing a bunch of short stories or one longer one—something like a whole book. He never talked about it much, other than to say that one day he hoped he might publish something. Writing was his dream though, a dream that had stayed with him through high school and college and his return to the Big Bend.

At least the burden of being the sheriff hadn’t killed that.

But without much apology, the only life he’d offered her was the one that she’d gone on to make with him here: working at Earlys, that crappy old bar in town, and Rocky the dog at her feet and Jack the baby in her arms and all of them together in this rickety house at the edge of the Big Bend. At the end of the whole damn world.

It was all she had. It was their life, and she now damn sure didn’t want another.

And if this was their life, that meant accepting all its ghosts, too. It meant Chris understanding he was never going to completely escape the dark, heavy presence of the man he’d replaced—Sheriff Stanford Ross—or the specters of Ben’s and Buck’s deaths, which had occurred long after Ross was gone. It was like her daddy’s old gray or green Bonneville again—growing up, that damn car had been as much her home as anywhere. Her daddy had driven them all over Texas in it, from Odessa to Galveston, chasing work and fleeing his own demons and ghosts, and yet he was never able to outrace any of them. He couldn’t. You couldn’t. They were already there waiting for you wherever you ended up, because you carried them with you. They were part of you. The best you could do was make your peace with them, with yourself, and get on with your life.

Find a place you could call home, protect it, and let them share it with you.

The Far Six Ranch was her home now. It was the only home Jack had ever known, and she was going to watch her boy grow up here, if she had any say in it.

Maybe that was part of being a mother, too. Not only a fierce protectiveness for your child, but a desire . . . a need . . . to have a true place to call home.

For the both of you.