Daddy never did pick favorites. “I love Rhys, Mama.”
“I know you do, dear. We all do. But he’s got to prove that he can’t be scared off, even by his own self.”
Rhys
“Goddammit!” I tossed the wrench at the workbench. I was supposed to cut hay in a few weeks, but I had guards to replace on my sickle mower. I’d done it a million times, but today I was useless.
“Daddy?” Bethany’s voice came from the open door of the shop. “Are you okay?”
By the time I turned, Hannah was only a few feet away. She flung herself into me and wrapped her arms around my waist.
“Aw, hon. Don’t worry about me. I’m just grumpy.” June used to call me grumpy, and she was fucking right. My irritation notched higher. She was right about a lot.
I patted Hannah’s back and Bethany ran to join us in a group hug.
Rain splattered against the ground outside. I inhaled a slow breath. I had to calm the hell down. I was scaring the girls.
“I’m fine. I’m just...” Furious at myself. At every damn thing. Except for my kids.
“You’re going to miss her?” Hannah hugged me harder.
All the anger drained out of me. I hugged her back. Understatement of the century. “Yeah.”
Bethany tipped her head back. “You should come to the fundraiser.”
“I... can’t.” I’d spend tomorrow night fixing this damn mower.
I know it’d break your heart if they gave up everything for someone else’s happiness—and then realized it was all for nothing.
June’s comment had rebounded through my head since she’d left me in the barrelhouse. By the time I had found the girls, June had already given them hugs goodbye and was nowhere to be seen. She’d also told her sisters to put whatever the girls wanted from the gift shop on the house. I’d left Copper Summit with my heart destroyed, two ball caps, every sample of bourbon chocolate the shop had, and a toy whiskey thief and barrel.
My house, which had been a refuge from all things June Kerrigan, was now full of her reminders. Everywhere I looked, I had memories of her. I couldn’t even hide while working on the breezeway’s construction because it just reminded me of the night Kirstin had walked in on us.
The girls pulled away.
“I wish June could be our mommy,” Bethany said.
Shock sent a cold wave through my blood. “But your mom’s in town.”
She stuck her lower lip out and looked away. Hannah twirled from side to side, her gaze on the floor.
I took off my ball cap, shoved a hand through my hair, and stuffed the cap back on. “You can talk to me.”
Bethany twisted her hands together. “’Member the morning you asked what I said to June?”
The morning I’d woken up to my dream life? Hell yeah, I remembered. “Yes.”
“I told her I missed having a mommy.”
Hannah nodded along with her.
The words “you have a mommy” stopped at the edge of my tongue.
“I miss Mommy being home and doing stuff with us,” Bethany added. “I love Mommy, but she’s gone all the time.”
Kirstin had been in town for a month and she hadn’t spent much of it with the kids. She hadn’t even been at Wren’s for more than a couple days at a time. She’d gone to Yellowstone to take pictures and then to Banff.
I’d thought she might be steering clear of June, but if I really thought about it, no. Kirstin would’ve gone off on her own anyway. Her cell signal might suck in the national parks, but not that badly. Not so badly she couldn’t call for over a week at a time.
