Page 73 of Kicking Up Dust

He reaches out to help me collect the small piles of baby clothes, but I hand him the ones on hangers instead so he can still help without having to actually touch the clothes with dirty hands.

“I wasn’t trying to scare her away. I was just surprised to find her here.”

I feel a bit sick knowing I can’t tell him why she came over… or at least why I suspect she did—to hint at why she’d been distant and try to mend the bridge between us—but it’s not my place to tell Colt something so personal.

“I think she just wanted to bond a bit before baby bear comes.”

I set the folded clothes down in the Whittaker family crib and reach out for the hangers. Colt looks at me like he’s trying to solve a mystery, and I try my absolute best not to look back like I’m wearing a giant sign on my forehead that reads I’m hiding your sister’s secret!

“I just can’t remember the last time I saw her laugh like that, that’s all,” he finally says, passing me the hangers. The pit in my stomach fills in a little and I promise myself to spend more afternoons like this with Bailey.

I didn’t realize how much I missed having a friend to laugh with, and Colt definitely deserved more opportunities to see his twin sister smile.

THIRTY-EIGHT

COLT

“Kenny, this is the best fucking cake I’ve ever had in my life.”

I at least remember to hide my mouth with the back of my hand while I say it so the crumbs don’t go flying all over everyone, since I couldn’t be half-assed to swallow my food first.

“Colton Dean Whittaker!” Mama snarks, which is fair. “The least you could do for my birthday is not be so vulgar.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

“It is a pretty good fucking cake though,” Jameson adds, bless him.

Kenny grins, proud. “Thank you, boys.”

Mama just sighs.

“Thought we could cuss the whole time?”

“Tatum, that rule was meant to exist solely for doing difficult things, not as an excuse to be potty mouths.”

“Well, I hate to say it, Mama, but it resulted in an awful lot of potty-mouthed Whittakers, so I don’t think Daddy made the instructions very clear,” Maddox grumbles, as though he doesn’t also cuss like a sailor. He just doesn’t do it in front of Mama.

She huffs again, rubbing at her temples before looking over at Blair with pleading eyes, reaching over the table to take her hand.

“Can you please help me make sure the next generation of Whittakers has a better understanding of time and place?”

Blair smiles sympathetically and uses her other hand to pat the back of Mama’s.

“I can do my best, but with Colt as her father, it’s not looking very good.”

I swallow the food in my mouth before replying this time.

“You can’t work on this ranch and not be foul-mouthed, much less inherit part of it. She’ll be just as bad as any of the rest of us, I’m sure.”

Maddox chokes on his food, Austin’s hand immediately coming up to smack him on the back, despite the way his elbow comes up to stop her. Sometimes, I think she just enjoys doing things that will annoy him. I still can’t picture them together, even after seeing it with my own eyes. It doesn’t really make sense how they work.

“You good, bro?” I ask through a laugh.

He finally swallows, looking at me with a sternness that doesn’t make sense in the moment, before his eyes flick over to Blair and back. I feel my face fall, not fucking liking that at all.

Maddox picks up his fork again, taking another bite of Mama’s birthday cake and looking down at his plate. The table is eerily silent, everyone else picking up on the strange mood he’s in now as well.

“Got something to say?” I ask him, ignoring the way Blair’s hand finds my knee under the table.