CHAPTER 35
BLAIRE
R uby and I were in her room when Colt’s phone rang over and over.
A cold dread filled me when I heard the tension in his voice from the kitchen. He moved down the hall, stepping into Ruby’s doorway, and his whole body was rigid.
“Stay here,” he muttered, voice already steeled for a fight.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, already climbing to my feet.
I couldn’t just stay there.
The thought of hiding, of cowering behind a door while chaos battered the porch, was unthinkable. Every nerve in my body shrieked at me to intercept whatever storm was about to roll through Colt’s house, to shield Ruby from it.
And deep down in my gut I already knew what it was.
It had only been two days since I sent my father those texts, and he’d been blowing up my phone ever since.
Two days of me, Colt, and Ruby in a perfect little bubble, but of course he was going to ruin it.
“Your father and Grant are about to pull in,” Colt said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he raked his fingers through his dark hair.
A muscle jumped in his jaw, and the veins in his forearms stood out as he clenched and unclenched his fists, like a man preparing for a fight he wasn’t sure he could win.
My heart punched fast and ugly against my ribs, and I crouched to Ruby’s level, my words a frantic whisper against the roar in my ears. “Ruby, I need you to stay in here, okay? Go to your tent and play with your animals for a little bit.”
Ruby’s eyes were wide, her small hand fisted in my sweatshirt she was currently wearing. “What’s happening?”
“My daddy’s here.” I nodded gently. “And he’s not like your daddy. I just need you to be really brave for me, okay?”
Her chin wobbled, but she nodded. “Okay.”
I was almost through her doorway when she called out for me.
I stopped, turning back to look, and Ruby ran in my direction, dropping our strawberry necklace into my palm. “In case you need to borrow some brave.”
“Thank you, Ruby.” I closed my fingers around the necklace, feeling the small metal strawberry press into my palm.
By the time I reached the living room, Colt was already at the front door, shoulders squared, as he pulled the door open.
Hunter was there, walking in the doorway, but Mr. Calloway was too.
His shoulders were squared, and his jaw was set with the quiet resolve I remembered from my childhood.
I hadn’t seen Mr. Calloway out of his house since I’d been back, and despite how frail he looked before, he looked far more like the sturdy rancher I remembered now.
Mr. Calloway looked straight past Colt when he saw me, and there was so much pity there that it made me flinch. “They showed up at the big house first looking for you when no one was at June’s. They’re on their way here.”
Hunter stepped further inside, eyes flickering from me to the hallway. “June laid down behind his SUV and bought us a few minutes to get down here first.”
I snorted because of fucking course she did.
Colt looked over his shoulder at me, a smile playing on his own lips.
“She really is the best fucking grandma.”
“She was mooing at them too, but I wasn’t going to tell you that.” Owen shook his head as if the woman absolutely exasperated him.
I started to head toward the door but stopped. “Hunter, will you watch Ruby? I don’t want her anywhere near my father.”
“Of course.” He nodded.
I stepped outside just as a black SUV came into view.
“Blaire,” Colt whispered my name and tried to pull me behind him. He was trying to shield me, and I loved him for it.
But I had to face this.
I shook my head before stepping past him.
The sky was dense with clouds, the air thick with the threat of rain that had not yet broken but wanted to.
Every nerve in my body buzzed as I crossed the porch and let my bare feet slap the old wood.
I still held the strawberry necklace in my hand, and I wrapped it around my fingers as if it could truly give me the courage to face my father.
At the top of the porch steps, I paused.
The SUV crawled up the gravel, black and glossy and wholly out of place on this cracked Tennessee drive.
Colt stood at my shoulder, but this time he didn’t try to touch me.
He just hovered, a silent, bristling presence radiating fury and fear in equal measure.
Mr. Calloway stepped outside with us, pulling the door closed behind him.
I wrapped my arms around my ribs, the gesture instinctive, and watched as the car came to a slow stop near the house. The engine idled, a heavy, juddering sound that made the whole porch seem to tremble.
Colt’s fingers brushed my elbow, just as the car door opened, and my father stepped out first, as impeccable as ever, not a single hair out of place despite the humidity, his suit jacket crisp and deeply black against the dull morning. He shut the door and came up the walk like it belonged to him.
I barely registered the second figure until he rounded the front of the car.
Grant, of course. He emerged in a storm-gray suit that had probably cost more than my first two years of college, but the man inside looked rumpled, poorly fitted to the role he’d been cast in.
He lingered behind my father, hands in his pockets, and a thin, unsatisfied smile on his mouth.
His eyes landed on me, flicked to Colt, then right back to me.
I could feel the heat of Colt as his chest expanded against my shoulder blade, but I kept my eyes trained on my father.
His gaze never left my face. He didn’t even acknowledge Colt or Mr. Calloway as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“Blaire.” My name fell from my father’s lips, and it was loaded with every way I’d ever disappointed him.
I forced myself to meet his eyes.
“Dad,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “What are you doing here?”
His nostrils flared. “You’re coming home. Right now. Pack your things and say your goodbyes. We’re done here.”
This wasn’t about my future or even his position in politics. This was about control. I’d spent my whole life trying to be the daughter he wanted, and now that I was slipping from his grasp, it was freeing.
Grant shifted on his feet, his smile spreading, and finally found the nerve to speak. “Blaire, you look…rested.”
Colt bristled at my back, and I thought he might leap the railing and tackle Grant right there on the gravel. I could feel his heartbeat against my back, thumping louder and faster with every condescending word out of Grant’s mouth.
I turned my attention back to my father. “I’m not leaving.”
A crack appeared in my father’s expression. He wasn’t used to being told no. Not by anyone, least of all me. He took a step up, closing the space between us, but I didn’t back down.
“You’re making a mistake,” he warned, low and irritated.
I swallowed hard, adrenaline burning in my throat, and the taste of Colt still clinging to my tongue. “No. I’m not.”
Grant scoffed. “Come on, Blaire. You seriously want to throw your life away for…this?” He gestured to the house, then to Colt with a look of practiced pity. “For a worn-out cowboy and a kid who isn’t yours?”
I felt Colt shift behind me, but the moment he mentioned Ruby my anger flooded me.
“Don’t you dare speak about her,” I spat, my voice low and shaking with restraint.
“That little girl is worth a thousand of you. If you speak of her again, I’ll call every reporter I can think of and tell them exactly why Grant Chandler’s wedding is in shambles.
Would you like me to send them the photos of you fucking your assistant who isn’t even old enough to drink? ”
That wiped the smile clean off his face.
Colt moved to my side, his stance rigid. “You’re not welcome here.” His hand pressed against my lower back as if he needed the feel of me as badly as I needed him. “You have thirty seconds to get off my land before I call the sheriff.”
My father’s jaw flexed, his gaze flicking between me and Colt like he was recalculating the best way to separate us. “This is about salvaging what’s left of your future. You’re not thinking clearly, Blaire. You never do when you’re around people like?—”
“Like what?” I snapped.
“Like your mother.” My father turned, finally acknowledging Colt, and sneered. “You think you can protect her from me? From any of this?” He swept his hand out. “You couldn’t even keep her from running away the first time.”
“I’ve spent every day since regretting it,” Colt said with a growl.
My father’s mouth twisted. “Touching.” His eyes slid back to me.
“June’s farm is hanging by a thread, Blaire.
One phone call from me, and the bank forecloses tomorrow.
” He tilted his head, watching my reaction.
“Your grandmother signed her name to numbers she couldn’t possibly understand.
It would be a blessing for me to take that burden off her. ”
My heart stuttered. The numbers on that Deed of Trust flashed in my mind. June’s farm was all she had. I was all she had. “I’m going to help her pay it off.” I didn’t even want to think about how many jars of jams that would take. “June and I are?—”
My father scoffed, cutting me off, and my legs shook beneath me. Colt’s arm locked around my waist, anchoring me against the solid wall of his chest.
“That paperwork you’re threatening her with?” Colt’s voice rumbled through my chest. “It doesn’t exist.”
My father’s eyebrows arched. “I beg your pardon?”
“June’s loan. It’s been paid in full.”
That didn’t make sense.
There was no way June had been able to pay off that loan already. I blinked at Colt over my shoulder, certain I’d misheard him. But his face was stone, his eyes narrowed on my father, and there was not an ounce of doubt in him.
“What did you say?” My father’s voice was glacial.
Colt didn’t flinch. His jaw was set, the muscle ticking just once as he tightened his hold on me. “June’s loan,” he repeated slowly. “The one you’ve been holding over her.” He nodded in my direction. “It’s paid off. You don’t have any leverage anymore.”