Chapter 7
seven
Cash
A fter ordering Charlie not to leave the house without me, I changed into work clothes and brushed my teeth in record time. The thought of her disappearing again was unbearable, and I didn’t breathe easy until I found her in the mud room, slipping on her Ariats. She had on my gym T-shirt from high school. The same one she’d slept in.
“Are you okay if I wear this?” She jammed her foot into a boot. “It might get manure on it.” Once manure touches your clothes, it’ll never be the same.
“It’s fine.” I grabbed my boots. “Now, if it was my Tucker Wetmore concert tee, or Morgan Wallen, we’d have a problem.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You have to branch out with your music tastes.”
I shrugged. “Nah. I’m good. It’s all research—since I’m going to be the biggest name in country music someday.” My head bobbed confidently. “Soon.”
“Bigger than your dad?” Dad said behind me.
“Yup,” I said without missing a beat. “Way bigger.”
Charlie laughed.
“I hope you are, son. But that’s only going to happen if we record more songs. Where do you think you’re going?”
With both boots finally on, I turned. “Charlie has an entire barn to muck out.”
Dad’s head cocked to the side. “And you have an album to finish. We’ve got one more take, maybe two, on ‘Hard to Love You.’”
I widened my eyes, pleading for him not to make a big deal about this. “I know. I figure if I help her, we’ll be done in an hour and I’ll meet you at the studio. Check your texts. Randy is running late anyway.”
Dad slipped his phone out of his pocket. “Fine.” He cocked a brow at both of us. “One hour.”
I winked at Charlie. “See what I have to put up with? Such a task master.”
Dad snorted. “He says as he grabs the keys to the Beamer that I bought him.”
I grinned as I dropped the fob into my pocket. Dad gave it to me when I turned sixteen. He gave a brand new car to every Dupree on their sixteenth birthday. Said there should be some perks to having the paparazzi all up in our business 24/7.
After overhearing Ashton ask about Charlie’s car and seeing her response, I’d wanted to ask her myself. But the way she was looking at the floor, cheeks bright red, told me I wouldn’t like the answer.
Dad must’ve noticed because he walked over and gave her a squeeze. “Glad you’re home, darlin’.”
Charlie didn’t need to worry about Dad’s reaction. Whatever had happened to her ice cap-white, hybrid Toyota 4Runner, she was worth way more. Dad would crawl across the Sahara for that girl. Zero doubts.
Just like me.
* * *
A half hour later, cheeks flushed and streaked with dirt, I’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
She glanced up mid-shovel when she felt me watching. “Why did you sleep on my floor?”
My eyes darted to the manure fork in my hand.
She huffed. “And why are you helping me when you should be working on your songs? And why do you insist on being in the same stall as me? This would go a lot quicker if we weren’t tripping over each other.”
I sifted a pile of dung out of the shavings and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. “You know why,” I mumbled.
“Cash.” She sighed. “If I promise I won’t leave, will you let me out of your sight?”
My gaze flashed up to hers. “What kind of promise? ’Cause if we’re talking a pinkie promise, I’m out.”
She shook her head like I was being ridiculous. “Do you want me to spit on my palm and shake?”
The corners of my mouth twitched. “No. Something more serious. A blood oath.” I pulled out my pocket knife.
She laughed. “Uh, no. Defini?—”
Bang !
Her words died with a shriek when the wind gusted outside and a piece of loose tin slapped against the roof. She fell back a step. Her watering eyes doubled in size, dancing around like someone was after her.
“Hey, are you okay?” She swallowed and nodded. But her chest was rising and falling too quickly. I squeezed her hand. “It’s just the roof. Gramps keeps saying he needs to get up there and Granny won’t let him because ‘you’re too old. You’ll break a hip,’” I imitated in Granny’s bossy voice, making her sound like a ninety-year-old. “‘Holden can do it. Or better yet, one of the grandsons. If they fall off, they’ll bounce right back onto their feet. I swear their bones are made of rubber.’”
It worked. A little. Charlie's shoulders dropped and she laughed. But that chest was still heaving in and out. Her gaze flitted over my shoulder.
“Granny would beat your butt if she heard that terrible impression,” Uncle Holden said behind me.
I turned to face him. He must’ve been fixing fences because he was in jeans, a work shirt, and boots like ours, holding a roll of barbed wire with his gloved hands.
I grinned. “Nah. She might pop me in the back of the head though.”
“No,” Charlie said. “She’d pop Uncle Ford in the back of the head. The grandkids? We get a purse of the lips and a candy bar.”
Uncle Holden chuckled. “So true. You guys don’t know how good you have it.” He smiled. “Hey, Charlie girl. Good to have you home.”
She ducked her head and her cheeks bloomed as if she didn’t know what to do with all the love aimed her way. “Thanks.”
Holden caught my eye. “I was summoned?” I texted ten minutes ago, not realizing he’d show up almost immediately.
I tipped my head toward Charlie. “She needs some legal help. Pro bono.”
“Cash,” she whispered.
“Don’t you?” I asked simply.
She shrank back, unsure. What had happened to the feisty, confident girl I once knew? But then she nodded. “Yeah.”
Holden set the wire on the concrete floor and crossed his arms, concern etched in the lines of his face. “What’s going on?”
Charlie’s lips pressed into a thin line and she gave me a look that said she wasn’t talking with me in the room.
I tipped my head toward the barn door. “Y’all go talk outside and I’ll keep working.”
Charlie and Holden slipped off their gloves.
He reached for her hand and led her out of the stall. “Tell Uncle Holden all about it.”
Just before they were out of earshot, I heard her say, “If you’re my lawyer, you can’t tell anyone what I tell you, right?”
“Right. It’s called attorney-client privilege.”