The morning light cut through the thin curtains in Jackson's room, striping the floorboards with gold.
Jackson lay on his bed, one arm thrown across his eyes, trying to grab a few more seconds of sleep. But the mattress dipped suddenly under a new weight, and a warm, familiar voice cut through the haze.
"Well, would ya look at this sorry sight," Cash drawled, every syllable dripping with that Willow Creek country twang, "sleepin' like a damn baby after causin' the biggest commotion I