She rolls her eyes. “Are you being insufferable on purpose?”
“I take after my dad.”
She snorts. “Ransom was stubborn as a mule and twice as loud.” Then her pouty lips thin. “There are people here who didn’t cut him off for two decades, and they want to pay their respects.”
She’s trying to be tough, but the cracks in her armor are evident in the tension around her eyes. She keeps slouching like she’s going to curl up at the base of the desk for a nap, yet she steels herself as though facing me is an ongoing battle—one she’s not giving up.
My admiration is inconvenient. She’s going to have to realize the way I left wasn’t me throwing in the towel. It was me moving on to deal with life on my own terms.
“They can say their goodbyes at the funeral.”
Her stare could wither a field full of hops. “Go ahead and close it down for as long as you need to grieve then. Just leave a sign. Also, give all the employees a heads-up that they won’t need to come in. Maybe inform them whether they’ll be paid for not working or if they’ll miss out on projected income because they can’t work.”
Shit. I remember all too well those days of penny-pinching, of wondering if I’d have to choose between rent and food for another month, worrying about my brothers. “Fine, stay open. What about the day of the funeral?” I should be the one deciding, but I haven’t sorted my ass from my socks yet.
“We’re closed.”
I rankle at her “we.” I know I’m not included, but I keep quiet.
“The reception is at the ranch,” she adds.
The hell it is. “I didn’t plan a reception.”
“I did. And I invited everyone. It’s in Holly’s announcement on the funeral home’s website. I mentioned that it’d be for both of them.”
Since she likely guessed I wouldn’t. My return to Scandal, North Dakota, isn’t to entertain nosy townsfolk who want to gossip about how my brothers and I are dealing with our dad’s passing. It’ll be even harder to avoid that if they’re at the house.
“I said?—”
“I know what youtexted.” She stuffs her hands into her pockets, and my attention catches on her jean-clad hips. I rip it away before my dick reminds me it’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed curves like hers—if there is such a thing. “It’s moreefficient to hold them together, and there’ll be the same people at both funerals.”
When I open my mouth to tell her I don’t care, she gives her head a shake. I bite down on my tongue, half amused that I was shushed, and half annoyed I obeyed.
“People need to say goodbye. They need to share stories and get a sense of closure. I don’t care if you don’t want to do right by your dad in these final days, butI’mgoing to. Whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t want a bunch of people at the ranch.”
“Why not? The pavilion was built for just that.”
“What pavilion?”
She simply shrugs. “I can move it, but then you’ll have to put out the announcement the location has changed. You might also want to station someone at the end of the drive to inform them. You know how easily people miss information.” She checks her plain, functional black watch. It suits her. “I’ve gotta get to brewing. You know my number if you need anything, slick.”
She saunters out, her ass swaying in a way that starts a drip of desire straight into my blood. Yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with someone. And it’s going to be even longer. The only thing I’m doing in Scandal is laying my dad to rest and signing whatever legal paperwork I need to clear the brewery and the ranch from my mind. After that, I’m gone.
FOUR
MEREDITH
My hands shake as I text my best friend, Sawyer Booth. I met her on my first day of eighth grade in Scandal, and we’ve been like sisters ever since. Holly was already in her late twenties by the time I was born. To say I was an oops baby is an exaggeration, but it didn’t stop my parents from ditching me with her. Sawyer was the friend I needed instead of the mother Holly acted like.
Ransom hired Sawyer in high school to help around the ranch, especially during calving season for the cow-calf operation. Then she left for college and became a veterinarian, but she continues working chores at the ranch even to this day, as a way to pay back the financial help Ransom gave her to get through school after her parents passed away.
Meredith: He’s here.
I brush the back of my wrist across my forehead. I left the big, brooding man upstairs and went to work. I have yeast to purge and packaging to start, but I’m hiding between the fermenters. This area is hidden from the stairs, and from where Molly is mopping in the taproom.
My phone buzzes, and I almost drop it.
