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“I know, lad,” Anton said, staring hard at Jesse.
Dimity’s shout was louder than everyone else’s as she climbed the stairs onto the red-and-gold ride. She had chosen a horse with a blue saddle. “Daddy, Dad, look! My favorite color!”
Emory instantly excused himself from Kelly and moved over to help her onto the horse’s back. Dimity was grinning and giggling, shouting to the other children who were all climbing on the other horses around her, though she still followed her father’s instructions to hold on to the straps and put her feet in the footholds properly.
Anton was watching intently.
“Dad,” Oliver murmured. “Please?”
Anton drew a sharp breath. “Okay, son,” he said. “One ride. Off you go.”
Oliver screamed his delight and pelted over to the carousel. When Dimity spotted him, she almost fell off her horse in her attempts to reach out to him. Emory steadied her then bent down to lift Oliver onto the horse next to hers. Even at a distance, Jesse could see the two children chattering, their faces pink with excitement, bouncing up and down on the horse’s carved saddles. Oliver turned in his saddle to shout and wave.
“Hey, Uncle Jesse,” he shouted, gesturing at Dimity, “you really did get me a cousin for Christmas.”
Dimity squealed in delight, and Emory’s own smile widened. He ensured both children were sitting securely before stepping down. The music gained volume, and the ride started to spin. The horses moved up and down and the children’s delighted cries faded and rose as they moved round and round.
“I can’t quite believe you’re here, Ant,” Jesse said quietly.
“Trust me, neither can I.”
“But you are.” Jesse hesitated then put his hand on his brother’s arm. “Thank you.”
Anton looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. “He won custody.”
Jesse nodded. “Yeah.”
“And you helped?”
“I think I did.”
“They really love each other,” Anton said quietly as he watched Emory waving at Dimity. She waved back—and so did Oliver. Their laughter could be heard over the music and shrieks of all the other children.
“They do.”
“And you love them.” Anton’s eyes were on him again. Jesse could feel them but couldn’t look away from his family.
“I really do.” Jesse’s breath left his body in a rush when his brother enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. “Whoa, Ant,” he gasped. “What gives?”
“I’m sorry, Jesse,” he said. His voice was choked. He sobbed loudly into Jesse’s shoulder, clinging to his coat. “I’msosorry.”
“Hey,” Jesse said, his emotion prickly and pleasing and as strong as sunlight rolling over his skin. “Hey, Ant, it’s okay.” He patted his brother’s back warily then, when the sobbing continued, put his arms around him and rested his chin on his big brother’s shoulder. “All right, so it’s not okay—but it will be. And I’m sorry, too. I really am.”
“Why areyousorry?” Anton said stuffily, not raising his head. “I’m the screw-up. I always have been.”
“You’re not a screw-up, Ant,” he said, pushing him back to look into his face. “Perhaps neither of us are? Okay, maybe we could have both handled shit better. There’s no rule book for any of this, right? We’re all just doing the best we can.”
Anton wiped his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” He swallowed. “There’s something I never told you.”
“What’s that?”
Anton sniffed again and blinked his eyes dry. “Whatever else happened. Whatever else I didn’t get or…refused to think about, I’ve never once doubted how much you love my kid.” He took a shaking breath. “And I love you for that, little brother—even more than I already did.”
Jesse searched for words, but his mouth was crowded with a hundred things he couldn’t express. Instead, he put his hands on his brother’s shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks then pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, too, arsehole.”
Anton grinned and moved toward the carousel to wave at Oliver. Emory stood ready as the ride slowed then stopped. He climbed aboard to help Dimity and Oliver down from their horses. The only thing that made it look different to any other day at the fair was the wary shadow of Greenway, never far from her master’s side, and the black-clothed private security strolling between the rides, their walkie-talkies crackling and eyes vigilant.
“Uncle Jesse,” Dimity and Oliver both called in unison as they climbed down. “Ferris wheel! Comeon.”
