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Keaton saw it plain as day.
But while Keaton made himself big, made himself strong, he had everything to lose. His business relied on this town, and if half of them boycotted him, he’d have a hard time hanging on to it. Only he didn’t seem to care, not as much as he cared about doing what he thought was right before considering what was right for him.
Tension crackled through the crew as I wound through them. The other Meyer brothers stood behind Keaton, the four of them like a set of GI Joes, wearing matching expressions of beat-down.
Cole noticed me and shifted to make room.
“How long have they been here?” I asked.
“They just showed up,” Cole said, everything about him grim. “Of course it’s Doug fucking Windbag. Mitchell is behind this, no doubt.”
“You think?”
Carson snorted. “Windbag and Mitchell have been buddies since the second grade. This was sanctioned by Mitchell. Hell, it might have even been his idea.”
I drew a long breath and let it out. “What can we do?”
“Nothing,” Keaton answered without turning. “They’re outside your property line, on county property and thus well within their legal rights to be assholes.”
“Can they stop us?”
“No,” Cade answered. “But I think I’ll take our guys who don’t have rides home out the back, if that’s okay with you, Daisy.”
“Of course. Maybe we can even feed them supper up at the house. Just let me clear it with Mama, see if maybe Bettie can help.”
“That’d be kind,” Cole answered. “Just let us know.”
“All right.”
We fell silent, watching the thirty fearful people on that side and the thirty afraid on this one, none of us knowing what to say or do.
Keaton’s wide shoulders rose and fell with a breath that seemed to steel him. He turned and started walking back to the site.
“Come on, y’all. We’ve got work to do. Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“Round up a couple trucks and get them all tuned to the country oldies station. Bet a little Johnny Cash will drown them out.”
“Good idea,” Cole answered as he fell in step with his brother.
In fact, we all did. As he walked through the crowd, people turned to follow him. It occurred to me that many of them would follow him anywhere, including me.
The feeling rose in me, filling up my ribs like fresh air. Keaton was an anchor to everyone he knew, offering safety and inspiring trust. He’d take care of anyone who needed it.
And I couldn’t help but want to be taken care of too.
11
BETTER OFF
KEATON
I was a prisoner, being dragged into hell by my eight-year-old niece.
Her grip was stronger than any handcuffs, and harder to escape. As wardens went, she was at the top of her game.
Sophie’s face was alight as we walked into the town hall dance nearly a week later, an event I hadn’t attended in many years. Her dark curls bounced and her skirt flounced, her little cowgirl boots clicking on the ancient wood as she marched us toward the dance floor.
I tried not to scowl, I really did. But with every pair of eyes in the building on me, scowling was the Publisher’s Clearing House of rewards. They were lucky I didn’t bark.
How I’d even ended up here, I barely knew. It had happened quickly this afternoon—Sophie diving into my arms in a wash of tears, Cole apologizing behind her that he couldn’t take her to the first town hall dance of the season after all, Sophie looking up at me with those big, shiny eyes and her nose all red, begging, Please, Uncle Keaton?
There was no saying no to her on a regular day, but with tears on her face and her lip stuck out far enough she might have tripped on it, I didn’t even hesitate.
My other brothers were suspiciously absent all day, and as such, I had no one to rope into coming with me. Cole had rolled up Sophie’s hair in my mother’s old hot rollers with impressive skill, and Sophie schooled me in their removal. She’d gotten herself dressed, though I’d had to fix the bow in her hair and approve her fit check as she did a little runway walk through the entry, tugging the bottom of her blue-jean jacket and popping her hip like a girl much older than eight.
She was beautiful just like her mother, and remarkably well-adjusted despite her mother.
Julie had always been one of the wild ones, a lawless rebel and unmitigated charmer, and a damn good time at a party. She was the girl at the party who’d do a keg stand, get into a cat fight, and instigate skinny dipping all within a ten-minute span. And Cole loved her, though I thought it had more to do with him trying to save her than anything else. Drugs didn’t surprise us. But it should have inspired us to watch for more trouble than we did.
