The single word whips sharply through the air. Then she arches a dark eyebrow, daring him to test her bluff. “Tw?—”
“Okay, okay. I’m leaving.” With a clenched jaw, Easton swings around, racing off toward his midnight black convertible and peeling out of the parking lot like the hounds of hell are on his heels.
Fallon lowers her weapon, her gaze lifting hesitantly to mine before shifting off to her right.
“Thank you.” My tone is guttural, but the sentiment speaks volumes when she nods curtly, still refusing to meet my eyes. I step forward, pouring everything into my next words, needing to show my eldest sister just how sorry I am for leaving.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me for leaving, Fal.” Her body stiffens, but when she doesn’t move, I continue. “I was in a bad way after Dad’s arrest. I mean, I know we all were, but I blamed myself. With everything he taught me about the family business, how could I not have realized what he was doing? I was blind to his faults, and lives were taken.Innocentlives.”
She looks up at me with an unreadable expression, and I swallow roughly, then take a deep breath. “I needed to get my head on straight, and the only person I knew could do that was Emmy, so I went to her?—”
“Y’all were datin’?”
The first non-hostile words my sister speaks to me in five years make me chuckle despite myself. “Clearly, we did a good job keeping it quiet.”
When she doesn’t respond, I murmur, “When I was in Manhattan, I realized that I had no means of keeping the ranch going. I mean, Circle H had funded Whispering Willows for the previous twenty-some years. It had no income of its own, so initially, I used my computer skills to run small jobs off the grid. Before I could figure out what I was gonna do next…”
Easton’s revelations blew up my life.
Rather than mention my once-good friend, I go down a different route. “I found a job working security for a billionaire who paid me an obscene amount to run his club…amongotherthings…”
Fallon regards me with a popped eyebrow and skeptical eyes before returning her gaze to the horizon, but I know she’s still listening, so I continue. “The…umm…the trial was rough. Some media outlets found out who I was, and that billionaire I mentioned helped protect me from as much of it as he could. He also made it so that Whispering Willows was pretty much unfindable. You probably have an issue getting UPS out here, right?”
From the thin set of her lips, I know I’m right. “I sent Momma every red cent I earned, and she used that to run the ranch.” Her back turns ramrod straight as she inhales sharply through her nostrils. “She told y’all it was her inheritance from Grandpa?—”
I can see her jaw clench despite the darkness shrouding us. “Why didn’t you justgiveus the money yourself?”
It’s my turn to arch a disbelieving brow. “Would you have allowed her to take it if you’d known where it came from?”
Silence hangs between us for a beat until she finally looks directly at me, blue eyes identical to the ones we share with our mother hold mine as she shrugs. “Look, I don’t have to like you very much right now, Fordy. But I’ll always love you.”
Then, as silently as she arrived, Fallon ducks into the shadows, leaving me with a hopeful heart even after the events of the evening.
As soon as Jesse made the call, a security detail swarmed Rebels, paying Riley handsomely for both the damage to her property and her silence, which she begrudgingly gave.
Our battered gang left Sully’s truck in the parking lot, grateful when Sutton insisted one of his drivers get us home safely.
The twenty-minute trip is filled entirely by Faith’s yammering as I mentally berate myself for letting my guard down way too far tonight until we get within spitting distance of the house, which is lit up despite the late hour.
We pile out of the SUV, and Momma appears on the porch, her smile of welcome fading as her eyes move over each one of us.
“What on God’s green earth happened to y’all?”
She descends the steps, reaching us to touch each individual present, ensuring we’re all whole and in one piece, albeit narrowly in some cases.
“Oh, poor, sweet Lawson. Look at that nasty head wound.” He winces dramatically when she touches the spot in question before she tuts and shakes her head. Then, ever the pragmatic, she dusts her hands off and sets down to business.
“Okay, into the kitchen. I’ll grab the first aid kit.” She looks to Faith, nodding emphatically. “The kettle is on the stove, and there’s fresh lava cake in the pantry, my love.”
Faith moves off to do her bidding, and we all follow, stopping when Fallon’s old beat-up truck, that she inherited from our grandpa, rumbles into the yard. She hops down and slings her shotgun over her shoulder as she passes.
“Fallon Eve Holloway, where were you tillthishour and withthatgun?”
My sister glances at our perplexed mother, fixing her with a deadpan look.
“Huntin’ gophers, Momma.”
She barely suppresses a grin as she mounts the porch steps ahead of us, ducking up the stairs without another word, and I’m filled with a bittersweet feeling of pride, seeing the fearless woman she’s grown to be.
