Page 29 of Fist


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Mindi

We’ve been home for a week. I’m loving married life, loving being Fist’s ol’ lady. There’s a cloud hanging over us, though, and I know I need to get rid of it. I sit Fist down on the bed one morning, holding his hand, and begin talking in a halting voice.

“Fist, I need to tell you . . . I don’t think . . . I mean, I don’t know . . .” I break down, dissolving into tears as Fist draws me close. He makes soothing noises as he rubs circles on my back. I finally calm down enough to take a deep breath, and Fists pushes me back so he can look at my face.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetness.”

I bite my lower lip and twist my fingers together. It’s now or never. “I don’t know if I want to have more children. I’m still scared that I’ll lose the baby, that I won’t be a good mother, or that something else will happen. I’m not strong like that, Fist, and I don’t think I’d survive it again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You deserve lots of babies, you’d be a great father, and I’ll understand if this changes things for you.” The words pour out of me.

Fist puts a finger against my lips. “Hush now and listen to me. I fully understand where you’re coming from, Mindi. And I have no problem with the way you feel. How about this? How about we take it slow. We’re young, sweetness, and we have lots of time. Let’s just live our lives and see how it goes.”

I feel the smile bloom across my face. “I like this idea. Oh, Fist, you’re so good to me.” I press my lips against his, pouring all the love I can into him. He returns the favor, and I feel more loved and secure than I ever have.

Before things can go any further, there’s a knock on the door. Muttering about interfering bastards, Fists goes to answer it while I giggle. He calls for me, and I scamper down the stairs to find him punching his arms through his vest and Bow standing by the sofa.

“Hello, Bow. What’s going on?”

“Hi, Mindi. Sorry to fuck up your day, but there’s some shit we need to handle. Fist, we need to go soon, brother.”

Fist nods. “Gonna grab my gun, and I’ll be ready.” Bow leaves, and Fist turns to me.

“Be careful,” I tell him quietly. “And come back to me.”

He nods and kisses me, then grabs his gun and strides out of the door.

With nothing to do but wait, I change into a pair of jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt and head over to the clubhouse. I find Boone drinking coffee and playing solitaire. I pour myself a cup and sit with him, watching him play in silence before curiosity gets the better of me.

“I know you told me before that Fist’s and Cracker’s mom just left one day,” I say, propping my hand on my fist. “But what happened? Was there no indication of trouble before then?” I wince and then add, “And I’m a nosey bitch, Boone. Don’t answer if you don’t want to and tell me to mind my own business.”

He chuckles. “I don’t mind answering, sweetheart. We fussed and fought like any couple. I never saw any indication that there was trouble, that she was thinking about leaving me. Not until she never came back.” He shrugs. “Most women choose to leave me.” It’s said quietly, in a matter-of-fact voice, but I can hear the pain in the words.

I’m thrown by this. Boone has been nothing but kind and sweet to me, even when he had every right to be pissed and hateful. I hesitantly ask, “So what now? Do you have a girlfriend or something? Or do you not want to try again?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I ain’t been celibate, girl, if that’s what you’re asking.” I giggle, and he continues. “I don’t have anyone special, Mindi. I haven’t had anyone like that for a long time. I’m not opposed to settling down again, but I can’t imagine what it would be like at my age.”

I tilt my head, studying him as he sips his coffee. He can’t be more than forty-five, and he’s a sexy figure of a man. All silver foxish. I purse my lips. “I’m going to take this as a challenge,” I tell him. “I’m going to find a woman for you to settle down with.”

Boone laughs outright and salutes me with his coffee cup. “Yes, ma’am,” he says. “Good luck with that.”

I know he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not. I’m already making plans.

A couple of days later, after Fist and Bow return, the news gets passed around that I’m on the hunt to find Boone a woman. Bets are being made about who and when and how. The running consensus is that it’ll be a woman from Billings, but I just smile and say nothing whenever someone asks about it.

I see Fist watching me with a weird look on his face. When I get close to him, he pulls me in and whispers against my ear, “She’s not from around here, is she?”

“Who?” I ask innocently, batting my lashes at him.

Fist rolls his eyes. “The woman you’re planning to set my dad up with. She’s not from around here, is she?” he repeats.

I just smile, pat his cheek, and move away. He scowls at me, and I blow him a kiss. His hot look promises retribution later, and I clench my thighs at the thought.

I can’t wait.

epilogue

Fist

Four Years Later . . .

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