“I’ll be damned,” Bea breathes as Macon’s Lexus pulls away. “I knew Ransom would take care of you, but this is…”
“A surprise,” Carlos finishes. He stands and holds a hand out to his wife. “We’ll leave you kids to talk. I know this isn’t easy, but remember that Ransom loved all of you. He wanted to do right by each of you, however misguided.”
Ouch.
“Damn,” Sawyer mutters. She leans closer to me. “I’m not leaving. They’re not going to railroad you.”
I’m about to deny that they would, but it’s wishful thinking.
The emotion roiling inside the Cross brothers turns the air thick. Too soon, Sawyer and I are alone with them. I’m breathing through a straw, muscles knotted all across my shoulders, and I just want to be held by Calder again. Will he ever want to? Did his interest in me get obliterated when he learned he can’t just walk away?
“How much?” Landry asks. “How much to buy you out of that trust?”
“And try to remember, both businesses are failing.” Bowen clenches his teeth so hard cracks should be heard. He’s not happy about me, nor the state of the ranch and the brewery. “You might not get the payout you want.”
Calder pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not helping, Bowen.”
“It’s waited too long,” Landry points out. “Dad made sure it wasn’t part of any conversation we had until he was gone. I’m not going to apologize for being upset when heknewthis was how it’d go.”
Their anger is aimed at me, but, surprisingly, his words make me feel better. None of us asked for this, and Ransom might’ve intended to discuss the trust with his boys but didn’t get the chance.
“As long as we realize it’s Dad we should be angry with,” Calder says. “We can’t take this out on each other. It’s business.” He meets my gaze, conflict in his eyes. This is more than business to him. To all of us, but at least the heat of their emotions isn’t solely on me. “Are you going to let us buy you out?”
Hurt spreads through my chest cavity, oily and slick. He doesn’t want me—not like that. I haven’t had time to let a fantasy build after what we did in my room, but maybe a little hope was harbored in the corners of my brain. A dream that he would tell me he doesn’t want to sell or leave, and I’m the reason. I have hearts in my eyes and delusions in my head. A rich, sophisticated man isn’t going to see this place, the brewery, and me and change his mind over a calzone and a cold beer.
“Don’t agree to anything you don’t want to do, Meredith,” Sawyer says before I can figure out my answer.
The air in the garage thickens until I’m suffocating.
“Meredith?” Calder asks again.
Do I hear hope in his voice? For what—that I’ll make his hard decision easier and sell, or that I’ll make his life infinitely more inconvenient and refuse?
What do I want?
A place, a home, and my pride. The first two are the most important. I add pride because a family isn’t looking too likely. I work too much, and that isn’t going to change. Will the guys allow us to hire more people, or will they run both businesses into the ground until we have no option but to sell? I don’t know, and I’m too tired to fight it. Ransom left a mess.
Do I want to start over, or do I want to use the gift Ransom left me? It’s all I have.
I love this place. I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. But that’s me. There are three other owners. Guys who’ve been gone for twenty years. One of them has been back for…What has it been? A week?
They’re convinced their minds are made up, but are they really? Will they have regrets? I’ve witnessed Calder soften since he arrived. He cares about that brewery. He loves this land. He loved his parents, and they loved him. Same with the others.
“No.” My answer is a croak. “I think we need time to make this decision. So, no, I’m not selling.”
TWENTY-SIX
CALDER
Goddammit, Dad.Why did I expect him to give my brothers the closure they needed when he never had their best interests at heart while he was alive? To him, I would follow Mama’s footsteps into the brewery, Landry would take over the ranch, and because Bowen and his interest in computers was useless to Dad, he would just be there to support us on whatever we needed. We’d all run everything together, and ultimately, that was all Dad cared about—not what we each built on our own, and not that we no longer lived anywhere around this fucking town because of him. And now there’s one more factor added, in the lovely shape of Meredith Winslow.
Her face is wan, but she draws up like titanium lines her spine. I want to pull her to me, bury my face in that glorious fall of hair, and forget what Macon Johnson said. But I can’t. She won’t sell. It’s me, Bowen, and Landry against Meredith Winslow, and that’s a shitty place for me to be. I’m the eldest, and this debacle is officially mine to deal with.
Landry’s still ping-ponging off the walls. Bowen’s heel is tapping so rapidly he’s going to vibrate out of his seat. His eyes are pinched like he’s going to get one of the headaches he usedto suffer with when we were kids. My brothers are nothing but coiled, acrimonious energy. It’s going to need an outlet.
“Fucking ridiculous,” Landry bites out.
I agree. My anger careens around like him, looking for an exit, but there isn’t an adequate one. I came home ready to close the door for everyone, to finally put to rest the hurt from twenty years ago, but there’s a woman I can’t quit thinking about propping it open. Maybe I can talk to her.
