“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”
My hackles are up, but I know by now to just let my sisters have their say. It’s easier than debating. Instead, I follow up with, “How did you find out anyway?”
“How did I find out? Umm…it’s blasted all over the internet, idiot! But of course, I’d read about it online rather than hear it from my brother.”
I roll my eyes at her pointed dig, but don’t rise to it.
“A client is a client, Pest. What difference does it make if it’s Emerson Hart?”
“Trust me, it makes a difference.” She huffs exaggeratedly, as though I’m missing some vital point.
“Is that why you rang? To berate me for not telling you that I’ve taken on Emerson Hart as a client? ’Cause I’m pretty sure I’ve never disclosed my client list to you previously.”
There’s a long pause, and I’m immediately on high alert.
“I was told not to tell you, but…” my sister trails off, uncertainty coloring her tone until she speaks again. “Momma was in an accident?—”
I cut her off, already up and moving before she’s even finished her sentence.
“I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER 24
FORD
As the cartakes us closer to Whispering Willows, my stomach dips, and not for the first time since hanging up with Faith.
When I’d called Alex, asking for a loan of his company jet, his stunned silence had said it all. Sure, my friends have met my family when they visited the city over the years, but they also know I’ve not been back home since my father’s arrest and the ensuing seizure of Circle H.
Alex being Alex, had readied his jet within thirty minutes of asking and even sent a car to pick us up, both from my apartment in Manhattan and when we landed at the small airstrip outside Austin.
Emmy’s hand squeezes mine as the car passes the enormous entry gates of Circle H, the birthright that was stolen from me, courtesy of my father’s selfish decisions.
I quickly notice the ranch is fully operational, and a bittersweet sense of relief fills me. I’d known it was purchased in the aftermath of the trial, though I’d never spoken to my family about it, so seeing that someone kept it going the way it was intended makes the sting less potent.
But just barely.
The car turns left and then goes down the private road leading to Whispering Willows Ranch. Willow trees that gave the ranch its name line the long and winding driveway until the main house comes into view.
The sun is low in the sky, bathing the house with her rays, and a sharp pang of emotion tears at my chest.
The ranch house where my momma grew up is white with a pale blue roof that matches the accents of blue dotted throughout. Its windows, doors, and the swing on the wraparound porch all match the shingles, and the darker bluebonnets in the surrounding shrubbery make it pretty damn picturesque.
As the car rolls to a stop, Faith comes barrelling out of the house, her golden blonde hair streaming out behind her. I’ve barely slipped out of the backseat when she’s thrown her arms around me, smiling from ear to ear. Big brown eyes identical to our momma’s shine up at me, filled with adoration and a hint of disbelief.
“I can’t believe you’re here, Fordy.”
Me neither.
Emmy slides out of the car, silently standing beside me to slip her hand into mine. I begin to ask my sister where Momma is, but the words die on my lips when I spot the woman in question strolling out onto the porch.
I can see her dusting her hands off her trusty blue apron, a quizzical smile on her face as she glances between Emmy and me. Faith notices my line of vision and disentangles herself before meeting my gaze with a wince.
“I may have exaggerated just ateeny-weenybit…”
“Would you haveeverreturned to Texas if Faith hadn’t lied to get you here?”
Emmy’s question hangs between us as we wash up for dinner in the guest room my delighted mother had quickly prepared for us. Faith, the little she-devil, had conveniently disappeared, but she can bet her ass we’ll be having a conversation real fucking soon.
