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“I don’t need two ranches, but do you think it would bother Mom and Dad?”
“We can talk to them about it.”
“All right. Let me talk to Brett first, then we’ll get together.” She hugged him. “Please call Siobhan. You’ll need her with you when you eventually own all of this. You two would have beautiful kids.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you on Thanksgiving.”
“Okay. I’ll see you.”
On Thanksgiving Day, Liam sat at the dinner table, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork.
“Liam? Stop playing with your food,” Joanna said.
He snapped his head up and narrowed his eyes.
“I’m not playing with my food,” he growled.
“Don’t take that tone with your mother, son.” Joseph stared at him.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Mom.”
“If you’re not going to do justice to my cooking and the fact that I worked all morning on this, then you can leave.”
Liam sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and stood.
“I think I will. It was great, Mom—”
“How the hell would you know? You haven’t eaten a thing,” JoJo said.
Liam glared at her and looked at Brett.
“Do something with your woman.” He clenched his jaw when Brett chuckled.
“I have no control over her, and you should know that.” Brett looked at him.
“I’m leaving. I don’t need everyone ganging up on me. I’ll talk to you later.” He strode from the room, removed his hat from the peg, shrugged on his coat, and walked out the back door, slamming it behind him.
January brought a snowstorm, and Liam stood at the barn doors watching the snowfall.
“Liam?”
“Hey, Terry.”
“Are you doing okay?”
“Yes.”
Terry shook his head. “I don’t believe that. When are you going to man up and go get that woman?”
“I’m not.”
“Damn, you are one hardheaded man. You should go to Dewey’s one night and get a woman if you don’t want that one.”
Liam looked at him. “Who said I didn’t want that one?”
“Well, hell, Liam. You did. You let her go. Find another one. You’ve been a real pain in the ass.” Terry turned and walked down the barn’s aisle.
“I don’t want another one,” he muttered.
It had been the worst months of his life trying to live without her. He needed to get drunk and forget everything that concerned Siobhan O’Brien. He looked out at the snow. He would go nowhere tonight. He’d head home, open a bottle of Callahan whiskey, and get good and drunk. Maybe it would help him sleep, too, because God knows he hasn’t.
