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I go ahead and pull a pitcher of draft beer and a stack of glasses, setting them down in front of Brody. His eyes are dark, burning with fury and accusations, and his jaw is clenched to bite back whatever venom he wants to pour over me.
Ever the angel, Katelyn pours the beers, spreading them out on the napkins I lay down. The Tannens glare at me, Shayanne included. The Bennett guys are doing the stoic-faced looks, backing Brody, Brutal, and Shayanne.
“What the hell, Willow?” Shayanne yells.
My shoulders climb up an inch and my head drops an inch down. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
The truth is, I’m not sorry. Not really. It hurts, I hate it, and I wish it hadn’t been the only way, but I don’t regret what I did. It’s for Bobby’s own good. One day, they’ll all see that and understand.
But I can’t explain that. I won’t tell them about Jeremy’s visit, about how Bobby lied to us all.
I know that deep down, they love Bobby and are doing what they feel is right to protect him. I wish they could see that I’m on their side.
I love him. I’m protecting him too.
“Is it true? Did he really leave last night?”
I’m as bad as the gossipy lunch ladies from earlier, but I have to know. Did he go to Nashville that easily?
Brody snorts. “Fuck yeah, he did. Climbed in his truck with his pants undone and no shirt on—good thing we’ve all got extras stashed—and peeled out of the driveway in a cloud of dust. Thought he was chasing you down, but he texted this morning. Said he was almost there and would be in touch.”
I sigh in relief. He’s okay. He’s in Nashville or almost is. He’ll probably have a record deal signed with NCR by the end of the day. His dream will come true in no time.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say quietly.
“Won’t be telling you shit anymore. That’s for damn sure.” Brody’s eyes narrow. “Though that won’t be a problem since you’re leaving town too.”
I guess he heard that part last night.
“Yeah. I don’t know how soon, but . . .” I stammer, trying to find a way to explain something I hadn’t even really considered doing. I don’t want to go home.
I am home!
Even without Bobby, this town, and these people, this life has become my home. One I never thought I’d have, one I certainly didn’t expect to find here that first day as I drove in. But fate knew better, putting me right where I belong.
Great Falls. Home. Just missing the one person who makes it warm and filled with love.
“Yeah,” I finish lamely.
Brody picks up his beer, chugs it, and lays a twenty on the table. “We’d better get home before Mama Louise gets dinner on the table. Bye, Willow.”
It sounds like a last goodbye.
The rest of them follow suit, giving me sad smiles or small waves before following Brody. Except Shayanne.
She leans over the bar, arms reaching for me. I flinch, absolutely certain she’s going to choke me or hit me or something painful. I’m right . . . she hugs me tightly, hissing in my ear, “I am so fucking mad at you. Don’t be a stranger, girl.”
Then they’re gone.
Richard lifts an eyebrow my way, having not interfered in any of that. Some bar security he is! I give him the smallest hint of a smile, letting him know I’m okay.
Around dinner rush time, Unc shows up and claims a table for the Sunday night poker game. Doc Jones is close behind with a jar full of coins in his arms, and the three of them get down to business. It looks like it’s a Texas Hold ’Em night.
Olivia keeps everything running for the rest of the evening. I guess I help, but I don’t really remember any of it.
The knock on my door is loud, so loud it wakes me up from a dead sleep. Bleary-eyed, I make my way to the door, swinging it open grumpily. “What?”
“Rise and shine, girl. The day’s half over.” Unc sounds entirely too chipper and way too awake, considering it’s not even noon.
“What are you doing here?” That’s what I mean to say, but it comes out jumbled and broken from my scratchy throat.
“Thought you might want to talk about what happened. Even brought bribes.” He holds up a white bag that I know holds Darla’s doughnuts and a cup of coffee that I can smell from here. Strong caffeine and sugar overload . . . party of one.
I grab for the goodies, giving Unc my back and assuming he’ll follow me into the kitchen. He does, closing the door behind himself.
I grab a plate and open the bag. “You didn’t want a bear claw?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I ate a couple of doughnut holes. That was more than enough for me.” He pats his flat belly. “But I had some oatmeal this morning, Mom.”
