37. Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-seven
Blue
When I pull into Black Gulch, I realize how much my priorities have shifted.
I used to love the traveling that my job required, seeing new country.
Now, all I can think about is wanting to be back home, with Libby.
All the years of shit I gave Mason for wanting to be a family man come back to choke me.
He had it right all along. I was the fuckup chasing girls, bars, and freedom.
True happiness is being wrapped in the arms of someone who loves me.
When I climb out of the truck, I grab the folder of pictures that Wade gave me, and my checkbook.
It’s a big moment, making the first payment on the cows. Libby has been working her sweet ass off to implement improvements, and it’s paying off.
The discrepancy in paperwork is probably nothing. Kinda makes me wonder if I misplaced a slip since I help with her record keeping.
I gotta remember to look when I get back.
“Blue, come on in.” Mason steps away from the heavy door.
When he slides a cup of coffee onto the table and sits across from me, humor makes his dark eyes shine.
“So, married life treating you well? Still happy to be with the same girl?” His mouth twitches with the ghost of a smile.
“Shit, I had no idea what I was missing. Why didn’t you tell me?” I take a sip of the acrid blend. It’s so stiff a spoon could stand up in it.
“Just every damn day. I’m glad I finally get to say those three little words. ‘Told you so’.” He laughs, ducking away from my playful swing towards his arm.
“Yea, alright. Here, while you’re gloating, take a look at these and help me out.” I push the thick binder of photos towards him.
His humor fades into jaw clenching seriousness as he starts flipping through. “These off that son of a bitch’s computer?”
I just nod as I finish filling out the first payment.
He falls silent as he flips from one to the next.
My guts wrench when he reveals Libby’s pic. It hurts even more to see now than the first time .
“I think I have your answer,” he grunts, turning the last page over. Propping his elbow on the oak table, he leans into his palm, running it down his face.
His cheeks pale as his fingers work up through his hair.
He ages ten years in seconds.
“I need a real drink, join me?” His voice takes on a rasp before he pushes himself up. He doesn’t wait for my answer, but tosses two more mugs down and pulls a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet by the sink.
The amber alcohol spills when he slings mine down.
But seeing his hand shake as he knocks his back keeps me from protesting.
“All those farms, people, businesses, they all have one thing in common.” He tips the bottle again.
“Mason?” Lori calls from the back room.
He pauses with the cup halfway to his lips, then sets it down.
Without a word, he disappears into the hall.
Well, fuck.
I stare down at the Jack Daniels still circling in the ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ cup in front of me.
It doesn’t look at all appealing now. Not with the sour feeling in my guts, hinging on whatever revelation he has.
How does Libby play into this? Do I need to worry about her ?
All those farms have had some sort of mischief. Some weren’t more than tarps being pulled off hay stacks, or tire tracks through their fields.
But others have had more serious financial hits, like Shufflebottom’s. That poor guy lost half his herd.
When Mason comes back, he’s carrying Jack and a duffle bag. Dropping the luggage, he strides to the table and fetches his phone where he left it next to the folder of photos.
“Everything okay?” I can tell he’s agitated.
He lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “Yep, Lori’s in labor.”
My heart races. “Oh shit,” I mutter.
“I’m fine.” She moves from the hall, her hand cupping her belly. “They’re just getting started, but it’s almost an hour to the clinic.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I’ve seen a lot of critters have little ones, but never a person.
How nervous am I going to be if Libby has one?
Cold sweat prickles my forehead.
But Lori smiles. “Blue, I appreciate it. We’re ready.” She’s so calm, the only sign of pain is the slight twinge in her cheeks when she pauses.
“Sorry, bud. We gotta go. I’m swinging Jack by Dixon’s so Char can watch him.” Mason’s already standing at the door with his boots and hat on, bouncing his giggling one year old on his arm .
“Oh. Yea. Shit. Let me get out of here.” I scramble and gather up all the papers, leaving the check sitting on the table. “First payment.” I point as I stand.
“Easy, Blue. It ain’t coming in the next ten minutes.” Mason looks more relaxed than I feel.
I watch him help Lori to his truck, guiding her in while expertly juggling their son.
He’s made to be a dad.
I hope I can be as steady as him when my turn comes.
He gets Jack buckled into the backseat, then moves to climb behind the wheel.
It startles me into action.
“Mason?” I hate to bug him about it, but it’s bothering me.
“Yep?” He pauses, half in, half out.
“The pictures, what do they have in common?” I have to know.
He takes a rapid inhale, his lips thinning.
“Me. I’ve had some sort of dealings with every single one of them.”
Fuck, Libby and I are tied to him now.