37. Zee
Something in the Orange - Zach Bryan
“Why shouldn’t you get the woman you want, if you want her that is…?”
The words travel over to me as I step down the stairs.
That’s Cody talking.
“She doesn’t want me.”
Who doesn’t?
“You’re blind,” Cody scoffs. “Of course she does.”
“I’m not blind. She barely talks to me. We only just started eating together for breakfast. And I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking this. Life. Here.”
That’s when my heart stops beating double-time.
They’re discussing me.
I know that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves, but I take a seat on the step anyway and crane my neck to hear as much as I can.
Especially as Cody was very quick to believe me when I denied that I set fire to the stables. Those all-seeing eyes of his merely shifted from alert to lazy as he schmoozed me into making a sandwich for him.
“Like I said. She needs a charm offensive.”
I have to hide my snort.
If Colt got any more charming, my panties would combust.
“What kind of charm offensive, though?” Colt inquires.
“Going riding together is a good way to start. Which horse are you giving her?”
“Jasmine.”
Cody whistles. “Man, she’ll look pretty as a picture on her.”
“Right? Like a faerie queen.”
He sounds… dreamy.
Not like dreamy hot. But dreamy, as if he’s lost to his imaginings.
Cody grumbles, “You and your fantasy books.”
“Screw you. Like you didn’t devour Tolkien too.”
My lips twitch as Cody retorts, “Yeah, thanks to you. You’re the one who read them to me and Cole before bed. But I’m not putting my Arwen on a horse, am I? Bet the next thing you do is give her a quiver of arrows and a bow!”
“Arwen was half-elven. You need to read the trilogy again?—”
“Why are we eavesdropping on my brothers?”
I jerk forward, nearly toppling off the step until Callan saves me, shoving a hand over my mouth to soften my yell. He’s so smooth it’s criminal for a geeky eighteen-year-old.
I relax though, watching as he settles on the step beside me once he lets go and has assured himself I’m safe.
“They’re talking about me,” I whisper.
“What’s Cody doing here?”
“Got into some kind of accident.”
Callan rolls his eyes. “Dumbass.”
Because the insult is a throwaway—panic flickers in his eyes—I tut. “I thought I told you to quit it with the attitude around me. You can be yourself.”
He huffs.
“You can,” I assure him. “I won’t judge you for it. You’re allowed to be scared for your brother.”
His nod is all the answer I know I’ll get out of him.
When I tune into the conversation in the kitchen, they’re still talking about Arwen and Jasmine.
“Jasmine’s pure white,” Callan explains. “A Camarillo.” He tugs on my hair. “Your coloring’ll fit.” Then, his gaze turns disapproving. “Not that your sweater and jeans will.”
“I’m not the most beautiful last-gen High Elf Middle-earth has ever seen.”
Callan grumbles, “Trust you to have read the books.”
“You haven’t?”
“I’m not into that stuff. I like steampunk. Duh. You should know that already.”
“I did but I figured Colt would have read it to you as a bedtime story.”
He hunches his shoulders. “He started to but it gave me nightmares.”
I pat his hunched shoulder. “You might enjoy them now. Though I’m not getting dressed up in a big white gown to cosplay Arwen!”
The teasing eases his discomfort. “You could at least wear a white sweater.”
“I have one but it’s not warm enough for the weather.” I nudge him with my elbow and lift my finger to my mouth when the brothers stop bitching about TheLord of the Rings.
“Less of the Tolkien,” Cody grouses. “It’s not like I’m about to have more time on my hands to do a deep dive. And more importantly, what are you going to do about her?”
“Sounds ominous,” Callan whispers.
“No, he’s on the same offensive as you are.” I shoot him a knowing look, watching him flush at the jig being up, though he still goes for broke.
“I’m not on any offensive.”
“Matchmaking wasn’t on your to-do list?”
Before he can answer, Colt does. “Not much I can do. I gave her time to settle in here. She has to figure out she’s not a McAllister anymore. She’s a Korhonen.”
“That sounds ominous,” I mumble.
Callan shakes his head. “Comes with perks.”
“Doubtful. For you, yes. Not for me.”
“That’s probably what he means. Colt’s always said you never burned down the stables. It’s time he makes sure everyone’s on the same page.”
“Is that why you never asked me if I did it? Because Colt told you it wasn’t me?”
“Of course.”
I knew he had faith in Colt, but the extent of it still makes my heart skip a beat. Because when Callan had learned this news, Colt hadn’t believed me to be innocent.
I’d been like him once upon a time.
From Colt’s lips to my ears—I’d have believed it if he told me the sky was purple and grass was orange.
They’d been more complicated times, yet oddly simple too.
Now, things are simple, yet oddly complicated.
“Heard about Bea Grantley.”
“Who from?”
“Bast Frobisher.” That’s Theo’s brother and, if memory serves, he and Cody were tight in school. “Says you fired Marvin Grantley and that she’s moved into one of our properties in town.”
“That’s Theo’s doing,” is all Colt says.
“Right.”
“No, it is. He had to convince her to leave Grantley while she was in the hospital. Didn’t realize you and Bast were still friendly.”
“Of course. We always kept in touch.” Cody sighs. “Callan told me about Lydia Armstrong blackmailing you.”
My ears prick.
“We should stop eavesdropping?—”
I ignore Callan and grab his arm to keep him sitting.
“Callan brought that up with you?”
“They arrested you! Of course, he did.”
“How many times? I wasn’t arrested.”
“Called in for questioning, then.”
“If you’re going to be the new marshal, you should be aware of the difference.”
Cody derides, “Stop being an ass. What’s this about poison pen letters?”
“Callan told you about that too?”
“Yeah, after Zee received one. That was the first and only blackmail note.”
I gape at Callan. “You knew I received one when I didn’t?”
He shrugs. “I always check the mail first. You know about them?”
“Clearly. Just not that I was getting them too. What blackmail note?”
“Callan was worried, Colt, and I don’t blame him,” Cody rumbles.
“There’s no need to be.”
“They must have had probable cause?—”
“Maybe they did. But I have an alibi. Zee.”
“You weren’t behind the wheel, were you?” Cody asks in an aside.
“No! Jesus H. Christ, Cody. What do you take me for?”
“A man who’ll do anything to protect the people he cares about.” Before Colt can say a word, Cody continues, “Did you pay the blackmail note?”
“Of course I did. She was threatening Zee. And as much of a bitch as Lydia was, the Armstrongs were on the brink of losing everything?—”
“Fuck, Colt! You weren’t her daddy. Who pays off a blackmailer because they feel sorry for them?”
Callan crows, “Daddy Colt, that’s who.”
Have he and Tee been talking behind my back or something?
Still, as insane as Colt is and as much as I understand my brothers-in-law’s disbelief, it’s such a him thing to do.
“Anyway, the Armstrongs have already lost their daughter, Cody. If the cash helped them out then?—”
“You’re crazy.”
“Have you lost a daughter?”
“No.”
“Do you know if your daughter is dead or alive?”
“No, but?—”
“No. No buts.”
“How did you know it was Lydia?”
He grunts. “Theo happened to mention one day that he saw Lydia up here, hanging around our mailbox.”
“That was dumb on her part.”
Colton snorts. “I never said she was eligible for Mensa, Cody, just that she was grief-stricken. Why do you think I wasn’t worried once I paid her off? I knew it’d pan out when their house was secured.”
“I’m not sure who’s crazier. You or Lydia Armstrong.”
“She’s dead. The dead don’t blackmail.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t detain you again.”
“Clyde did it and Reilly’s sitting on his hands.”
“You think he’s corrupt?”
“I don’t ‘think.’ I know.”
The sound of a chair shifting backward has both Callan and me jerking to our feet.
Loudly, I mutter, “Callan, I told you I hate playing first-person shooter games!”
He picks up on my lead and then winks at me like this is some great subterfuge. This kid, I swear. “You just haven’t played the right one.”
“Now Cody’s home, you can play with him.”
“He always wins,” he grumbles as we trudge, extra noisily, down the steps.
On the final landing, that’s when I see Colt standing there, looking up at me, a soft grin curving his lips.
Above me, there’s a picture window that lets in the sun at certain times of the day. It’s uncanny how he stands in the center of the puddle of light that shines through the glass.
It makes him look like he’s wearing a halo.
At my prolonged stare, his smile only deepens.
But it’s the gleam in his eyes that seals my fate.
Because this man owns me.
And for the first time, I feel as if I might own him back…