Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gideon
I swiped sweat from my brow and put my ball cap back on my head. Today was cloudier and cooler than yesterday. I might need to break out that new coat if I kept coming out to help Dad. “I’ve gotta get going.”
“Gotta date with the wife?” Dad picked up his small tool bag and went to the pickup. We had finished, but he’d mentioned going all the way to the tree line to make it uniform. He’d also said that he wanted to go through the old stables that had been used by my grandparents when they boarded horses. He thought some of the gates could use new hinges and a few boards needed replacing.
“It’s a valid reason for stopping.” I was baiting him, and he gave me that infuriating, aloof smile. I was too stubborn to ask outright why he’d cut yesterday short. “Autumn’s class program is tonight. I helped her and the other teachers make the set. ”
I was just shy of boasting like I was a little boy who wanted his dad’s approval. But also, I was proud of that damn set, and I wanted to see it in action. The physical work was different than the paperwork I normally did. Silver ran on my authority, but I hadn’t put one screw in place. I hadn’t even hung the pictures in my penthouse. I hadn’t even picked them out.
“That’ll be fun. I always enjoyed watching you squirm up there.”
“I didn’t squirm.”
“Please,” he scoffed. “You hated the spotlight.”
I still did. I’d grown up with people watching me, and it had never been for a good reason after Mom was gone. “You got everything taken care of?”
“Go ahead.” He waved me off. “Tell Autumn I said hi.”
We’d driven separately, so I hopped into Autumn’s car and took off, bumping down the path to the road.
After I reached her house, I ran through the shower. I almost chose slacks and a polo, but I paused. This was a Bourbon Canyon Elementary School program. I picked jeans and one of the nonhoodie sweaters I’d purchased at the tractor supply store.
Before I left, I stopped at her fridge and frowned at the contents. We needed groceries.
We.
I closed the door. I should’ve taken care of the food situation this morning.
I checked the time. I had to go. Autumn had said there was plenty of seating, but I planned to sneak in and sit in the back.
When I arrived at the school, I parked and thought of what Dad had said. I hated the spotlight. But as I got out and walked toward the front double doors of the school with the other parents, more memories assaulted me.
I was growing used to it in the four days since I’d been in town. I remembered Mom and Dad dropping me off at the front. I’d run in and they’d park. When it was time to sing, I’d look for them in the crowd. Mom would always give me a little wave and Dad would have that twinkle in his eyes and a secret smile playing on his lips. I could never tell if he was laughing at me or if he was proud.
I remember the answer being important, but I’d never asked.
In the gymnasium, a ton of plastic folding chairs were positioned in rows, an empty aisle running down the middle. They were already filling in.
I put my head down, wishing I’d put on my new, clean ball cap. I could use the shade of the brim. People glanced at me, then murmured to each other as I made my way to the far back corner of the gym.
Autumn was nowhere to be seen.
A man with a sweater over a collared shirt was talking with parents and grandparents. I tried to scoot by, but he cut me off. “Good evening. Thanks for coming.”
“Evening.” I tried to take another step.
“I’m sorry, I thought I was getting to know everyone’s family. Which student is yours?”
While I was glad the school watched over the kids, I didn’t like being stopped or questioned. “I’m here for a teacher.”
Realization dawned and his professional politeness died. “Are you Autumn’s husband? ”
This must be Mark. He was maybe in his midthirties, dressed in the slacks I had bypassed, but overall, he was a decent-looking guy. I could see why Autumn would date him.
I disliked this man. “Mrs. James? Yes.”
Annoyance flickered in his gaze. He didn’t care for how I’d phrased my answer. Good. “Right, Mrs. James. Congrats on that. The name change is taking us all some getting used to. Welcome.” His smile was forced.
I nodded, squeezed his hand harder than I should’ve, and left him behind, grateful I’d made time for the performance if Mark was lurking around.
People filed in. An older couple I’d guess were grandparents took the chairs next to me.
“Our grandson is so nervous for this.” The woman beamed at me. The apples of her cheeks glowed under the fluorescent lights. “Do you have one performing?”
A beat of longing tugged at my heart. No. I had no one. I was forty-four and had no performances to go to. “No. My wife’s the teacher.”
She blinked at me. “What teacher?”
“Autumn.” Her expression remained blank. “Autumn Kerrigan, now James.”
The man looked over from the other side of his wife, squinting his pale-blue eyes my way. “You the James boy?”
I hadn’t been the James boy for a long time. “I am.”
“Oh!” The woman brightened. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen Hank around. How is he?”
Stubborn. Frustrating. Happy, and I didn’t know why. Content, which irritated the hell out of me. “He’s well.”
She patted my arm. “Good, good. I like hearing that. He’s been through so much. ”
I ground my teeth together. He’d been through a lot? And he had these people’s sympathy?
“Congratulations on the wedding,” she gushed. “Autumn is such a nice young girl.”
“She is.” When it came to her, I didn’t feel like I was talking about a stranger.
The kids started filing onto the risers. I got one last smile from the woman who grated on my nerves for having the gall to care about my dad, then we both focused on the performance.
Autumn and Kerry helped the kids get into position, scooting from side to side until the kids were in single file on each of the three levels.
When the kids were situated, she went to a stand-up microphone. She had her hands clasped in front of her, and her smile was wide and genuine. “Welcome, everyone.” Her smooth voice carried through the room. Everyone settled, including the kids. “This year’s third-grade class has been working so hard on this performance for you. I’m super proud of their efforts, and I know you’re going to love it. Now, without further ado... enjoy the show!”
She stepped to the side. The lights were dimmed, and Kerry hit a button on a stereo system. Haunting music poured out of the speakers.
The singing was light at first, hesitant. Their voices grew stronger. Kids searched the audience for their parents like I once had. Between songs, a few of the kids did a little skit that included the bats attached to the backdrop. They rushed back to join in the next song.
“Aren’t they cute?” the woman next to me whispered.
I nodded, surprised I agreed with her. Their effort and enthusiasm wove through the program. Tonight, I was around more kids than I had been in my entire adult life. I never noticed children, and the thought of them didn’t factor into my plans or ideas for the casino. We catered to the over-twenty-one crowd.
Autumn’s life was so much different than mine. We’d grown up very similarly, both had experienced tragedy, but she’d surrounded herself with youth and excitement and unbridled energy.
I was surrounded by concrete and steel and people looking for an extreme escape. There was no learning going on in Silver. No thoughts of the future, only the present and the pleasure that could be had.
When I looked back on my career, I had spreadsheets to show for it. Reports. A casino with its doors still open—no small feat. But when she looked back, she’d see hundreds of kids she’d influenced. Kids like me who’d grown up and attained powerful positions.
I didn’t even mentor up-and-coming corporate wannabes. I left that to another team. I wanted to do my job and build my own empire so I could secure my family’s fortune, so to speak. But in the end, I had nothing of my own. Autumn had individually touched so many people’s lives.
I swallowed hard as the last string of music blared through the speakers.
My wife was pretty goddamn amazing.
I looked forward to tonight as much as last night. I’d get her home nice and early. Her back would be on the mattress and my face would be between her legs for the third day in a row.
My phone buzzed .
Son of a?—
As the students filed off the stage, I peeked at my screen. Hank.
What the hell?
I silenced it. He was probably going to ask me to help him with the bullshit projects in the stable.
A moment later, my phone started buzzing again. I stared at the thing. He never called more than once in a row.
Parents were filing out. The woman who’d chatted with me gave me a goodbye wave once she saw me with my phone. I nodded at her and her husband.
Damn. What if something was wrong? I answered. “What’s going on?” The irritation came out like it usually did when I dealt with him.
“Giddy, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Don’t call me Giddy.” A small jump of alarm crawled around my throat. He sounded frantic. “Something wrong?”
“My truck died, and I have a meeting. Can you give me a ride?”
Not even I had meetings at eight at night.
Something tickled the back of my mind, a factoid I should grasp that might be important, but irritation smothered it. “Shouldn’t we be concerned with towing your pickup to a shop?”
“I’m going to miss it entirely. Is the program done?”
“Yes.”
“I’m a quarter mile from the highway.”
“I’m still at the school. I haven’t even talked to Autumn yet.” She was laughing with a group of parents and little kids. Mark hovered nearby with his own group .
She glanced at me. I lifted my chin, and she gave me a little wave. A little girl blatantly stared at me with big eyes. I gave her a wave too. The way Autumn smiled in response lit up the gymnasium more than any of the lights could.
“Do you think you can get me in the next fifteen minutes? I’m usually really early, but someone else will have to set up. This way, I’ll only miss a few minutes at the beginning.”
I did quick calculations. Picking him up, bringing him to town, going back for the pickup and towing it after dark—it’d be a late night. Autumn would have to work in the morning. I wouldn’t be able to keep her up.
It’d be best to drop her off at home so I could be Dad’s errand bitch.
He had no regard for me, my life, or my time. He’d managed to cost me two workdays fixing fence for no reason. “I can give you a ride home. I don’t know what is so important to you at eight at night that both Autumn and I have to?—”
“I really need to go tonight. The urge has been...” He sighed. “It’s my AA meeting, Giddy. Alcoholics Anonymous.”
Autumn
Hank hobbled into the Lutheran church, his shoulders stooped and his head down. Streetlights and the dashboard lit Gideon’s face. His jaw was carved from granite and the green of his eyes was uncharacteristically dark as he watched his dad disappear into the church.
I’d seen the exact moment Gideon’s expression had gone stark. He’d been talking on the phone, his brows drawing closer together, and then the lightness I’d caught when he laughed during the skit was gone. He was the guy I’d met in the elevator in Las Vegas.
“How long has he been in AA?” The meetings were in a local church and I’d seen the signs posted, but they were such a constant, I didn’t ever think about them or who might attend them. To me, Hank was just a friendly face around town. The stories about his drinking were from so long ago that sometimes it felt like Gideon was talking about a different Hank James.
Gideon’s jaw turned impossibly harder. “I don’t know.”
“It’s a good thing though. Right?”
He finally tore his eyes away from the brick building. “He said he’s been having a hard time. That this week has been really hard.” He scratched his jaw, the scrape of his fingers loud against his whiskers. “Yesterday, he quit early to go to town. I didn’t figure it out. He went to town for a meeting .” He worked his jaw. “Two days with me, two meetings.”
I put my hand on his forearm. He was tense there too. “He’s taking care of himself. He has measures in place. He’ll be okay.”
“I never really believed he was sober.”
I pressed my lips together. He said it like a confession, raw and ragged.
“I didn’t believe him. In fact, I was goddamn upset at the idea that he might have gotten sober well after I was gone.” He snapped his mouth shut like he was afraid to keep going. “Why now? Why not when I was a kid? Why not when he had to sell off the cattle? The equipment? All of that could’ve gone toward his damn retirement.”
“I don’t know, Gideon, but from what I’ve seen, alcoholism and addiction make the rules long before the person ever does.”
He glued me in place with his hooded gaze. “How do you know that?”
“I hear a lot from the kids and their parents. And yeah, when I was new, I got so distraught when a kid made a comment about a parent being in jail for drugs. About five years ago, a mom caught me after school. We talked for almost two hours about her experience with addiction and recovery. For some reason, she needed someone to hear it, and I was that person. She said her addiction makes all the sense in the world, but it doesn’t make sense at all.”
The hard muscle under my hand finally relaxed.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He said the meeting would take about forty-five minutes to an hour. Want to steer the pickup while we tow it?”
“You think this is going to tow his pickup?”
“Is there twenty-four-hour towing in Bourbon Canyon?”
“I’ll just call Teller.”
His arrogant lips were flattened in a line. “I’m not calling Teller.”
“Tenor?” At his silence, I thought for a moment. He wouldn’t let me call Tate either. “Myles just bought a pickup, but he and Wynter were going to Denver for the weekend. There’s Jonah Dunn, Summer’s husband. Do you remember him? ”
He thought for a moment, his eyes getting that faraway look that happened when he delved into the past. Jonah would be a little younger than him.
“Somewhat,” he said.
“I think you two would get along. Neither of you really smiles.”
The firm line of his mouth finally gave way to a small smile. “Fine. I’ll concede to a brother-in-law.” His phone buzzed. He frowned while he read the message. “Dad said one of the guys will hang out with him until we return if we’re late.”
“Okay, I’ll call Jonah.”
“I can take you home. You don’t have to be with me for all this.”
“It’s okay. This is an exciting night in my world.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “That’s nicer to hear than you’d imagine. I’ve gotten reports of terrifying nights out in my line of work.”
“Does all this seem boring?” I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t need the confirmation.
“It’s refreshing, Autumn. I never hated the small-town life. I only hated mine.”
He was returning to the part of his past that wasn’t a good place. His dad had measures in place, but Gideon didn’t. I had to get him out of that headspace. “You know what the difference is between tonight and nights like this when we were younger?”
He shook his head.
“We’re towing a vehicle instead of getting it stuck.”
He barked out a laugh. “Too true. Give Jonah a call. I need to get this done so I can show you how not boring the small-town life can be.”
“Oh, I think you’ve given me a couple of glimpses.” My cheeks grew hot and warmth bloomed between my thighs.
“I plan to give you more than a glimpse.” He leaned over the console. “Because I didn’t meet Dad until ten this morning so I could run to Bozeman and get some condoms.”