Page 183 of Taken Away

Luke found Scout’s eye down the counter and mouthed, that’s her? Scout gave the smallest nod.

Anne must have felt the look. Her gaze slid along the line of stools and landed on Scout.

He’d gone still over his pancakes, fork resting on the edge of the plate. Dark hair, dark eyes, a solid build under the khaki uniform—he looked like he’d been carved out of the same ridge as the courthouse hill.

“Well now,” she said, interest flickering. “There sure weren’t any deputies that looked like you walkin’ around when Burton was sheriff.”

Scout’s jaw ticked once. He’d spent half his twenties ridin’ shotgun in Burton’s cruiser; hearing his name out of Anne Langford’s mouth made the room feel two sizes too small.

He swallowed, set his fork down, and met her gaze evenly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Times change.”

Flat. Nothing for her to catch on to.

Anne smiled anyway, slow and appreciative.

“Well… that’s an improvement,” she said, then turned back toward Willow as if she hadn’t thrown a spark down the length of the counter.

Scout picked his fork back up and went back to his pancakes, but his attention had sharpened. He didn’t stare at her the way some of the men did. He listened.

“So,” Anne said a moment later, turning enough that the neckline of her dress did exactly what it was designed to do, “which one of you is gonna tell me how in God’s name my daughter ended up runnin’ my sister’s empire all by herself?”

Mary Lou perked right up.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t hear?” she said. “Mabel left that girl the whole estate. House, land, winery. All of it. Signed and sealed before she…” Her voice faltered. “Before she passed.”

“The lawyer’s version of that story was dry as toast,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “I want the real one.” She lifted her coffee in a small salute. “From the people who actually live here.”

June’s mouth tightened. “Real version is Mabel finally did somethin’ right by that girl and made sure she’d never have to answer to anyone but herself again,” she said quietly.

Anne’s smile wobbled. For a second. Gone almost before anyone could be certain they’d seen it.

Luke saw.

So did June.

Regret. Raw and ugly and entirely out of place on a woman who seemed determined to charm the entire room.

Then it vanished. Buried beneath the smile again.

“Well, that sounds very noble,” Anne said lightly. “Except she trapped her, too. Aubrey shouldn’t have to earn an inheritance by putting her life on hold.”

Sam raised his brows. “You think Aubrey can’t handle it?”

“Aubrey’s brilliant,” Anne said without hesitation. “She gets that from me.” A few people snorted. She ignored it. “But she’s also never had to deal with folks up here when they decide something’s theirs. Y’all know how this valley is. You don’t just inherit land; you inherit every grudge that ever touched it.”

“That’s true,” Red said. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Far as I can tell, nobody’s said a damn word yet about what happens to the beef side of things. Cows don’t pay probate fees. They eat and wait for somebody to decide if they still belong here.”

The room went a shade quieter.

“Red,” Willow warned, a soft edge in her tone.

He took another bite of his burger like the conversation was over. “Just sayin’,” he muttered.

“Who found my sister?” Anne asked.

“Bennett McCrae,” Mary Lou said.