49. Zee
“ZEE! Butch Cassidy stopped writing to me!”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere—even if she’s later than expected.
My head whips to the side as I find my BFF standing on the small step of the truck that helps short-asses like her climb aboard. In her hand, there’s a white sheet of paper and she hollers, “WHAT. A. JERK!”
I’m too accustomed to her outbursts to be embarrassed that the whole Korhonen family as well as my own is lingering around the BBQ.
If anything, this is a break in the tension.
Ironically, that tension has nothing to do with the enmity that’s simmered between the Korhonens and the McAllisters for centuries—nope, it’s to do with the fact that Cole, as expected, ran his mouth, and Cody and Callan have joined the ‘scowl at Colton’ brigade.
A union that’s only strengthened since Callan shared the news of the breeding program with Cole. He was not happy to hear that update.
“What did you do?” I holler back at Tee.
“Why am I the one to blame?” She disembarks the truck with a sassy jump, shouts a ‘thank you’ at the ranch hand Colt sent to pick her up at the airport, then stalks over to me. “Maybe he’s the one, huh?”
“You know you say stuff to get a rise out of him,” I remark, having heard too many of her first drafts to the guy.
Yes, first drafts.
She writes him essays.
“He likes it when I get in his face. The douchenozzle told me he was retiring and that he thought another soldier might benefit from hearing from me.” She stomps her foot. “What does he think I am? Some letter-writing hooker?”
“I mean, I doubt it?”
“Then what?! Does he think I write letters for every soldier I come across?”
“You did join that program?—”
She slaps the letter against my chest. “He dumped me!”
“You weren’t dating,” I soothe.
And fail.
“You’re not making this any better.”
I grimace. “No. I’m sorry, honey.”
“Read it.”
That’s when Colton swoops in. “Everything okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay, Colton?” Tee declares, arms flailing to her side. “My heart is broken.”
“Who broke it?”
“Her pen pal,” I mumble as I scan the letter.
Colt settles a hand on Tee’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tee.”
“He’s much better at this comfort stuff than you,” my best friend grouses, then has the audacity to drag my two-hundred-thirty-pound husband in for a hug. “Men suck, Colton.”
He awkwardly pats her back. “I know.”
“I mean, you’re a man. Would you throw away YEARS of friendship?”
He casts me a look that’s tinged with desperation when she doesn’t let go of him. “Years?”
“Yes. Years. Then he dumps me. Who does that?”
“You were dating?”
“Why is everyone obsessing over that?” That means Parker said the same thing. “You don’t have to be dating someone to get dumped! If anyone knows that, it’s you two.”
Colton cringes but agrees, “No, fair point.”
“Tee,” I chide. “Was that necessary?”
Still embracing my husband, she squints at me. “Did it hurt when Colton ghosted you?”
“You know it did.”
“Then you know how this feels.” Her bottom lip wobbles. “I loved him, Zee. I did.”
Heart hurting for her, I tuck her in a hug too. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She sniffles. “Was that so hard?”
Man, I suck.
I nuzzle my nose against hers then kiss her cheek. “I got you All-dressed chips.”
I know she’s pouting. “What about Nanaimo bars?”
“Made those.”
“What about a Coffee Crisp?”
“Yup.”
She heaves a sigh. “You don’t totally suck as a BFF. Who busted Colt’s nose? It was prettier back in New York.”
I snort. “Cole.”
“Huh. Did you deserve it, Colt?”
Colton pats her back again. “I did. I need to deal with the grill, Tee.”
Sniffling, she lets go of him because he mentioned the magic word ‘grill,’ but I quickly tug her into a proper hug.
As we collide, her cheek brushes mine and, this time, I feel the tear tracks there.
“I’m sorry I doubted you, sweetheart.”
“You didn’t doubt me. You know I’m difficult,” she excuses soggily. “But he liked that. I know he did. You don’t talk to someone for years and years if you hate their guts.”
“You’re right. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t want to be a pen pal with someone who wasn’t enlisted anymore?”
“More like he didn’t want to tell me his address.”
“What do you mean?”
Her cheeks flush with heat. “I mean he never told me. For security purposes.”
“I’m confused. How did he ever receive a letter from you?”
“Via his service number. I guess he’s more of a jerk than I realized. Clearly, he doesn’t think he’ll have time for me seeing as he’s back here and can get laid instead of writing to me.
“But he could have gotten laid with me. What did I have to do? Send him a manual? Visit these coordinates, go to the fourth floor, knock on the door, kiss resident’s mouth, spread legs, insert penis here?”
A laugh bursts from me but her woeful expression has me quickly containing it. “Did you tell him you’d have been amenable to a relationship with him?”
“No. I’m going to miss him. How can he just cut me off like that?”
The guilt that hits me at her words is blindsiding. I didn’t cut her off, but I left. Now Butch Cassidy’s disappearing on her too. God.
I clear my throat. “What about the coffee shop lady?”
“I told you that’s over. I tried it with a girl who plays the viola too, but she sucked at oral.”
“Is that a pun?”
“No. Maybe I can’t orgasm with someone else. I should probably accept that.”
“You can’t accept that. Not at twenty-six.”
For the first time, her gaze flickers at our audience. “I bet he was good at oral.”
“Ignore them, Tee.”
“My replacement’s watching us.”
“Callan’s not your replacement,” I chide.
“I should arm-wrestle him for the title of best friend.”
“Not necessary.”
“I-I think I’m the problem, Zee,” she whispers.
“You’re not the problem.”
“I am. That’s why you’re dumping me for a teenager?—”
“I’m not dumping you for a teenager!” I snag her hands and give her a hard shake. “You rock. If some douche soldier doesn’t realize what he’s missing by cutting you out then that’s on him.”
Dislodging my grip on her, she cups her elbows in a gesture that doesn’t suit my ebullient friend.
A part of me could kill this soldier jackass for making her self-soothe, but instead, I draw her into another hug and decide to distract her. “I’m relying on you, babe.”
“What for?”
“To break the ice. Thanks to your flight being delayed, it already got underway without you, so now, things are awkward.”
“‘Showdown at high noon’ awkward?”
“Something like that. Except Colt’s brothers are more pissed at him than at the prospect of sharing a meal with my family.”
“What did he do?”
“He gave them proof that I didn’t set the fire.”
“You can give me the deets later.” She props her chin on my shoulder. “Cole’s still annoyingly hot.”
I grin because I know she can’t see. “Colt’s hotter.”
“Cody’s the tastiest of them all.”
“As tasty as Beaver Tails?”
“Looks like he has a stick up his ass, so no. He’s a soldier too, isn’t he?”
“Not anymore. He’s back from Saskatoon. He’s doing this basic training thing to be the town’s new marshal.”
“Once a soldier, always a soldier, but…” Whistling, she pulls back. “I wonder what the uniform will look like.”
Because that’s such a Tee thing to say, I burst out laughing.
Her lips quirk at my reaction but she muses, “Callan’s eyeing up the triplets like they’re going to throw water bombs at him.”
“They promised to be on their best behavior.”
“Ha! So, they’ll only throw water balloons at him, then? Not ones filled with dog shit?”
“Ugh. I don’t want to remember what happened the last time they did that.”
She snickers. “Doesn’t take much to remember. It was worth it. That bitch deserved to have her car covered in turds?—”
“Lydia Armstrong died, Tee,” I chide.
“I know, but she was still a bitch.”
I whack her arm. “Be nice.”
“Be nice about the woman who never let you walk past her without calling you horrible names? Ha. I don’t think so.”
“She didn’t deserve to die like that,” is my stout retort. I grab her hand and drag her over to the grill. “It’s time to meet the rest of the family, kiddo.”
Her fingers tighten around mine. “Parker said she contemplated making it up here then decided she’d rather stick pins in her eyes.”
I snort. “How did I end up with two drama queens for best friends?”
Over burgers and potato salad, hot dogs with homemade relish, and a steak as thick as my fist, Tee eventually calms down. She mostly avoids Grand-mère, who deigns to speak with Lindsay and Ida, and sticks to hanging out with the triplets, Mia, and me.
Callan stays near the grill with Colton. I know he’s pissed because I heard them arguing before Tee showed up, but I figure it’s a comfort thing. Especially with the triplets on his home turf.
Cody and Cole are in cahoots, sitting and glowering at Colt while eating the food he prepares.
I try to be the butterfly—chatting with Mia, buttering up Grand-mère, making sure Tee and the triplets aren’t getting up to mischief, hovering beside Callan and Colt in an attempt to smooth over troubled waters.
It’s exhausting.
I hate hosting.
But… it’s also nice.
Really nice.
These are my peeps, after all.
“You haven’t eaten anything yet. Go and be with your family. I’ll play hostess.”
The words have me spinning on my heel because, not for the first time today, Lindsay is being pleasant…
“It’s fine,” I hasten to assure her.
But she shakes her head. “Christy is only out here for a short while and God knows if we’ll ever get your grandmother over to the Seven Cs again.” She pats my shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve never been the hostess at any family event where Clyde couldn’t ruin it. It’ll be a novel experience.”
Though I grimace, it’s not like I can refuse. Nodding, I thank her and then retreat to the grill.
Seeing that Callan drifted over to his other brothers and left Colt alone, I murmur, “Did you two finally stop arguing?”
“Is that even possible with Callan?”
I hitch a shoulder. “I’m not saying you’d win but sure.”
“In this instance, I told him to go and spend some time with Cole and to stop with the passive-aggressive comments to me. He can do that anytime. Whereas he barely sees Cole.” He shoots me a look. “You haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’m fine.”
I may have left it longer than I should to eat because of how crazy the day’s been, but I know my limits. Still, I appreciate his care as he hands me a cheeseburger in an oat bran bun.
“It’s the special ketchup,” he assures me, and that it’s in my bread with my ketchup makes the burger better.
I know he cares, but this is like a food-shaped hug. And it tastes great.
As I eat, he asks, “Everything okay with Mum? I saw her come up to you.”
“Sure. She’s being nice.”
“Glad to hear it,” he says darkly.
I arch a brow at him. “You couldn’t expect her to warm up to me. Not when she didn’t know if I’d be sticking around.”
The ‘hiss’ of beef grilling and the ‘pop’ of hot dogs roasting are louder than his next words: “And are you?”
My smile is wry. “You know you don’t have to ask me that.”
The warmth in his eyes would be enough to keep me toasty on a cold winter day.
“A husband likes to check in.”
“Consider yourself checked in.”
“For how long?”
“At my hotel? At least, say, forty years.”
He clucks his tongue. “Fifty would be better.”
“Every rancher nickels and dimes.”
“It’s in our blood,” he agrees with a wink. The ‘our’ has me smiling at him. But he nudges me with his elbow. “Would you mind checking on Callan?”
“Why?”
“I don’t want him to start an argument with Cody and Cole. They’re bickering so one is incoming.”
My man has eyes in the back of his head, I swear.
“He’s on your side—” I raise a hand to stop him from arguing. “Of course he is. Don’t answer that. He’s mad. You broke his trust.”
“I know, but I’d prefer him to air our dirty laundry later and not in front of your grand-mère,” he says with a sad chuckle.
“I dunno. You’ll make her a very happy woman if you do,” I sing.
His mouth curves into a sheepish grin. “I wouldn’t ask you to be their referee, not when Cole’s so, well, Cole, but?—”
“You don’t have to say another word.”
With a wink, I pop onto tiptoe and kiss his cheek. As I drift over to his brothers, I grow aware that mine hijack Colt because he immediately bursts out laughing. I’m glad—he deserves the break in tension.
His siblings, surprisingly, aren’t talking about arson, insurance fraud, or anything related to Colt’s fears.
“You need the practice, Callan,” Cole tells him. “They’re written by women for women. It’s like a textbook?—”
“I don’t want to!” Callan declares, cheeks blazing.
Not in anger, but… embarrassment?
Cody snorts. “Leave him alone.”
“No. We need to get him some action. You know half the girls in our year would have happily taken our V-cards.”
“Maybe we’re not all man-whores,” Callan bites off.
“You have to pop your cherry eventually, Callan,” is Cole’s grumble.
Uncomfortable on Callan’s behalf, I pat his back. “Everything okay here?”
Callan freezes for a second, then: “Everything’s fine.”
When he storms off toward the house, I heave a sigh. “We won’t get him out of his room for a week.”
“Sure we will,” Cody says cheerfully, nudging his brother in the side with his elbow. “Once Cole heads back to the city. With his lady porn.”
“It’s good shit,” is the middle brother’s declaration. But he doesn’t look at me and keeps his head bowed.
Because I don’t exist or…?
“Callan’s a nice kid,” I insert softly. “He’ll find his path without you pushing him.”
“She’s right, Cole.”
“I’m worried about him.”
“Why?” Cody asks. “I don’t get it. He’s safe?—”
“He never leaves the ranch,” Cole counters. “I tried to get him to agree to spend the summer with me in New York City but he refused.”
Because I can sense genuine concern for Callan, I assure him, “He’s happy here.”
Cody nods. “He is, Cole.”
“How can he be?” is Cole’s retort. “He’s eighteen and has seen nothing of the country. Never mind the continent. Never mind the world. He needs to spread his wings.”
“Not everyone wants the same things.” I stare at my burger rather than look at them. “It’s not my place to say any of this, but I’d have been happy staying here. It was only circumstances that took me away from Pigeon Creek.
“I learned a lot, realized who I am and what I need, but not everyone has to do that. I actually brought this and attending university elsewhere up with him, but I think he’s one of those people who truly is content with their corner of the world being the only part they see.”
He wants to snap at me. I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t like me. Until recently, he thought I was an arsonist who killed his beloved horse. And despite Colt’s admission, there’s still a smidgen of doubt that tinges his expression.
But kudos to him, he holds his tongue.
Cody, apparently aware of his brother’s dislike for me, shoots me a gentle smile. “Your friend has three personalities rolled into one person.”
The conversational shift comes as a relief.
“She has four on a bad day.” I take a bite of my burger, chew, swallow, and then inform them both, “Colt’s a good man. I’m sure he’d be the first to say that he deserves it if you give him a hard time, but… you should bear that in mind before you do.”
“You stopped being a big baby yet?”
The interruption is welcome.
When Mia slips onto Cole’s lap, she hooks an arm around his neck. “Don’t mind this one, Zee. He’s all bark and no bite.”
“Hey!”
My lips form a quick smile. “I don’t mind. He’s sticking up for his brother.”
“You’re a better person than me for taking his BS.” When Cole pulls a face, she taps his nose in a silent warning. “Be nice.”
Cole huffs. “Is it true that you play games with Callan?”
I pause at the about-face. “Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy it.”
“He’s a little shit but he’s lonely.” Cole locks his eyes on me. “I appreciate you keeping him company.”
“Honestly, he’s fun.”
Cody clears his throat. “We just need a woman his age to think that.”
Cole argues, “I’m telling you he has to start reading smut.”
Mia groans. “You still harping on about that? Not everyone’s into it.”
“Only a sadist isn’t into happily-ever-afters.”
“He likes first-person-shooter games,” I point out. “I don’t think romance fits in.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. There’s romance for everyone. It’s the genre that keeps on giving.”
Cody sighs. “I thought once I left home, I wouldn’t need to hear soliloquies on how awesome romance books are.”
“That’s because you don’t understand their awesomeness. Romance makes the world go round.”
Laughter echoes around the BBQ. Not from one of us, but Tee who’s talking to Lindsay.
Is it my imagination or does Cody cut her a glance?
“Wouldn’t have taken you for a gamer, Zee,” Mia comments, her tone kind.
“I grew up with boys. One of whom became a soldier. Them’s the cards that fall.”
Cody’s brow puckers. “I forgot Walker enlisted. Fuck.”
“It was a long time ago,” I say simply.
It’s my cue to leave though.
As I go, Cole grates out, “What did you say that for, dipshit?”
I let my gaze drift to the sky.
Cole Korhonen being kind to me?
There have to be pigs flying over the Seven Cs…
But nope.
There isn’t a single bewinged porcus in the sky.
Another bawdy laugh from Tee has me glancing around at the miracle that is this BBQ.
My family. His.
Enemies.
But we ended the rancor that our ancestors wrought and while they’re rolling in their graves, we’re chatting, listening to music, and eating great food.
It’s probably the first time that a sense of belonging fills me.
Maybe it was Colt’s declaration, his admission to Cole, the presence of our families, or maybe it’s my own words to his brothers, but this is my place.
The acknowledgment flutters inside my chest, filling all the empty spaces. It sinks to my feet and grounds me.
I’m home.
And as that acceptance settles in for the long haul, of course something has to come along and take a massive dump on it.
A fancy sports car shoots down the driveway, and by the tension in Colt’s shoulders, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s behind the wheel or how—someone on staff took a bribe to give him access through the front gate.
Clyde parks the car diagonally across the lane.
If I needed a reminder on how much of an asshole he was, I got it.
“A family BBQ without the patriarch?” he booms, tone hearty like he’s welcome here.
As if three of said family hadn’t colluded to toss him off the ranch in the first place.
Dead silence falls at his words, but despite knowing the hatred my husband has for his father, what he does still takes me aback.
In response, he calmly places the fork and tongs in his hands onto the side, turns away from the grill, then walks over to Clyde who beams at his son as if he’s the prodigal father, but his eyes widen as Colt’s fist soars forward, colliding with the asshole’s nose.
A shriek escapes Lindsay, but the triplets are soon cheering, “Get him, Colt! Do it! Do it! Do it!”
Before our eyes, Colt lights into his father, punctuating each hit with a curse or a warning.
“You tried to set me up, you asshole.”
“Told you not to come here.”
“You killed Loki.”
“You got her pregnant?!”
“You wanted them to suspect me.”
“You started the fire.”
“How dare you show up like you’re still fucking welcome.”
“You stole the ranch from me.”
“You lied about the will.”
Each snarled word seems to alleviate his outrage until, finally, Cody and Cole are the ones who drag him off their father, holding him back when Clyde, hunched on the ground, slurs, “Always did hit like a girl.”
My man roars his fury and fights his brothers’ hold. He almost succeeds too. It’s only Callan shouting, “The police are on their way, Colt!” that appears to stop him.
“Now that they’ve tied you to Lydia’s death, I hope they figure out how you killed Marcy as well. You sick fuck. Getting a sixteen-year-old pregnant?—”
“What?!” Lindsay gasps.
Cole stares at his father. “I always knew you were a pile of horse manure, but you never fail to live up to my expectations.”
“Dumping the truck on our land was a shitty thing to do,” Cody growls.
“Did…” Clyde rolls onto his side and pukes. “…nothing.”
“This is better than General Hospital.”
Of course that comes from Grand-mère.
I move over to Colt and curve an arm around his heaving side.
The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than three minutes. I feel like a whirlwind blew onto the Seven Cs?—
“What’s he even doing here?” Callan demands.
“Wanted. See. My. Boys,” Clyde mumbles before he plunks back on the soil.
Colton tenses and I can read the disbelief in his expression. Acting on a hunch, I snag one of the thin plastic gloves I bought so Grand-mère could pick up chicken wings without getting her fingers dirty.
Not giving Colton a say in the matter, I slide them on and drop to Clyde’s side.
“Don’t sully yourself by touching him,” my husband spits.
But I ignore him—Clyde came here for a reason and I want to know what that reason is.
“Why are you here?” I demand.
Head lolling from side to side, he pauses to blink at me. “Clarisse?”
I shut out the tender note to his voice as he utters my mom’s name, but I can hear the triplets discussing that among themselves as I pat his pockets.
When I find a piece of paper, I pull it out and spot the same handwriting as I did on the poison pen letters.
Korhonens think they can get away with murder.
I won’t let that happen.
You killed two people that day—my daughter and my grandchild.
You. Will. Pay.
The courts might never get any justice out of you, but I can.
I want a hundred thousand dollars before the month’s out.
You know where to find me.
“Why are you here? Is it because of this?”
Clyde groans as I thrust the piece of paper in his face.
I use his chin to hold him in place. “Tell me why you came here, Clyde.”
“Missed you, Clarisse.”
Though I wince, this isn’t about my mom and whatever weird relationship they had together. “Why did you come here?”
“Put letter. My. Office.” His hand grabs mine. “Not kill. Her.” He vomits. “Clarisse.”
Before I can pick apart that minefield, Callan bites out, “He was going to plant it in Colt’s office!”
I turn to my husband who has fire in his eyes. Glancing at the hold his brothers have on him again, I mumble my thanks to the universe. Left to his own devices, I don’t think Colt would have stopped doling out the type of punishment Clyde served upon him for years.
A long time ago, I remember telling him how I’d like to witness when the abused turned on the abuser. I got my wish, but from his expression, there’s no closure to be found here. None at all.
The cops arrive but they don’t take him away. An ambulance does.
For the first time in centuries, two sets of enemies work together, united in the face of a shared nemesis, as they describe how Clyde stormed onto the scene and started a fight that Cole, Colt, and Cody were all involved in.
Self-defense… when it wasn’t.
Everyone shares in the mutual lie to protect Colton.
The sergeant appears dubious but he declares, “I’ll let this go seeing as you kept your word about contacting us as soon as he showed up.” He stares at the letter I handed him upon his arrival then glowers at Cody. “I’ve heard all about this ridiculous new idea coming out of the provincial government… If this is how the head of the marshals will treat a suspect, we have some interesting times ahead.”
The pissing contest matters more to him than the day’s events because the sergeant makes a retreat before Cody can respond.
As quickly as the chaos commenced, it fades.
I stick to Colt’s side while he methodically scrapes off the charred meat that burned onto the grill as Tee declares, “I was right. Pigeon Creek got way more interesting while we were in New York.”
I wish I could argue with her… but I can’t.