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Chapter Twenty-Three
When she passed the sign announcing her return to Sweet Water Falls, Clarissa’s emotions surged again. She’d made it. She’d returned home.
There was still so far to go, and she gripped the steering wheel, her resolve firm. She was going to apologize. She’d get down on her knees and beg if she had to. Spencer simply had to take her back, and he was absolutely more important that any career she could ever have.
She’d just been so laser-focused on that dream, because she had wanted it for a long time. She’d reached a pivotal moment in her life, and when he’d come back into it, she’d never course-corrected.
A sigh passed through her body as she turned onto the dirt road and the farm, only to have every muscle seize up again a few seconds later when she saw the police vehicles.
“What is going on?” she murmured, trying to peer through all the windows in her car to take in the whole situation. Many, many vehicles had congregated on the road leading toward the milkshed, the milk parlor, and her house.
She pulled off the road when she saw her brothers grouped together in a triangular huddle, and as she stood from the car, they all turned toward her simultaneously. “What happened?”
Travis reached her first, and he enveloped her into a hug. “Spencer’s dad was here. He took the money bag from the office and tried to run.”
“They’ve taken him to the station,” Lee added, arriving and making a group hug.
“No one got hurt,” Will said.
“That’s not true,” Travis said. “Spencer got hurt.”
“But he left,” Will said. “I just meant none of us got hurt. Daddy’s fine. Mama’s okay. Even Ernest didn’t get hurt.”
“Where’s Spencer?” Clarissa asked, but her brothers didn’t even hear her.
“It sure looked like he might,” Lee said. “Spencer had him pinned to that fence. Hard.”
“But he didn’t swing at him.” Will frowned at Lee.
Clarissa squirmed away from Travis, trying to make sense of their argument. “Where’s Spencer now?” she asked again.
“I think he might have,” Lee said. “I said three sentences to him, and he didn’t even hear me.”
“I was there,” Will bickered back. “I did the same. What I’m saying is, he didn’t hit his dad. Ernest didn’t get cut. The knife was kicked clear.”
“Whoa, knife?” Clarissa asked. “What is going on?”
Travis shook his head. “Good thing Daddy was there. He always seems to know just what to say to get through the fog.”
“Where is Spencer?” She glanced around, thinking she might find him with the other cowboys, who stood in small groups beside cabins and trucks. No one seemed in any hurry to clear the blockade keeping her from her house, or to get back to work.
She found Daddy talking to a small bunch of cowboys—two or three—and Gary nodding like his neck had turned to rubber. They broke up a few moments later, and Daddy turned toward her. He came straight at her, but with his limp, he wasn’t fast.
She met him halfway, and he clutched her tightly in his arms. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked. “I didn’t think you were coming home this weekend.”
“I’m coming home permanently,” Clarissa said, her emotions riding the roller coaster up again. Her throat narrowed to the size of a straw, making it hard to swallow or breathe. “Are you okay?”
They parted, and Daddy met her eyes. “We’re all fine, baby.”
Lee, Will, and Travis joined them, all four of them talking now. Daddy said, “Gary’s gonna get the boys back to work. I’ve talked to everyone, and so have the cops. They’re finishing up with the fence back there, and then they’ll go.”
“And that’s it?” Will asked.
“We got the money back, so.” Daddy blew out his breath.
“Where’s Spencer?” Clarissa asked, very much like a broken record.
“I want to have everyone for dinner tonight,” Daddy said. “Trav, will you call over to Truck Ranch and see if they can put together our usual catering order on short notice? Tell them I’ll pay extra for it.”
