Chapter 11 #2
“Right? Don’t expect much support. He just phones it in. One of the Sterlings is a deputy now as well. Finn.”
“No wonder they didn’t look into it,” he grumbles.
The Sterling brothers aren’t bad. They never held my being a Winslow against me. I don’t say that outright. “Duncan Sterling used to come to the place where I bartended in Williston. He’s into craft beer.”
“Is he still a know-it-all prick?”
Scandal seems to produce plenty of those.
“Yes, but he was cool with me. I was a familiar face from home without needing to actually go home, and at that time, I had a boyfriend. I never had to worry about him hitting on me.” Those brothers didn’t vanish entirely like the Cross boys, but it was close, and eventually, Finn came home.
After meeting their dad, I can see why. “Would he ask the same about you?”
“His language would be more colorful.” He offers me a hint of a smile. “Once the others arrive, we need to pick up the car.”
My stomach drops. I haven’t had the courage to go see it.
After Finn delivered the news, Sheriff Dietz advised me not to worry about a thing.
They’d tow it to the impound lot. “Dietz mentioned the coroner would send their personal items to the funeral home. I just want Holly’s camera, but James said he didn’t receive it with her belongings.
I thought I should share the info if James didn’t bring it up. ”
“He did, but thank you.”
We finish our eggs. Once they’re done, he tosses in sausages.
When the food is cooked, we take our places at the table as if it’s something we always do, like an old married couple.
A pang of longing stabs my chest. I thought I’d have that by now—a husband, kids, a secure career.
Instead, I’m single and living in my sister’s home.
Soon, I might be single and homeless. At least the brewery will keep going.
Julia’s sons will uphold her legacy, just as the ranch and Ram’s memory will. I can find comfort in that.
We each load our plates and start to eat.
The front door opens. “Hey, Mer. I’m running to Williston for—” Sawyer stops just one step into the kitchen and scowls at the cozy scene Calder and I create.
Does it look like we’re pretending to be a cozy couple?
Or do I look absolutely exhausted, with bags under my eyes, while he appears to have swaggered out of a Hollywood Western?
Landry may have been the one who modeled, but Calder and Bowen both could’ve too.
Suits, cologne, watches, and now Western wear.
Hell, I’d buy a pair of jeans he was selling.
“I didn’t realize it was Cosplay as a Cowboy Day,” Sawyer says, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Oh, I’m sorry. You probably prefer rancher.”
His lips form a troubled line. “What do people think the difference is? Paperwork?”
She barks out a hard laugh. “They think it’s the difference between owning a ranch and working one.”
He shrugs a brawny shoulder, and the shirt pulls even tighter around his pecs. “It seems a bit like swaggering around the taproom announcing that not only do I work here, but I also own it, and that would be a dickish move. I truly don’t care if people know I’m the owner.”
“But you’d care if Meredith owned it,” she shoots back.
His fork stills over the eggs. My heart sinks. He would care, and from his taut jaw, he wouldn’t like it.
“He’s selling.” I should revel in his glower, but there’s no joy. “They’re going to sell, once they know for sure what the will says.”
Sawyer blinks. “You can’t.” A frown ripples over her mouth, and she tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Ram wouldn’t make it so you could do that.”
“You know something I don’t?” he asks, his tone laced with an edge.
“No. He left everyone in the dark.” Sawyer’s shoulders slump.
She’s invested in this place, yet she knows as much as or less than we do.
Scandal, this house, and the brewery is the only real home I’ve had, and since Sawyer lost her parents, it’s been like that for her too.
Ransom drove his kids away, and he may have taken me and Sawyer under his wings to fill the emptiness—and to do chores—but we weren’t his flesh and blood.
He didn’t even tell his own kids what he’d leave behind.
I push my eggs around. “He might’ve been afraid of setbacks if he was trying to mend fences between you and your brothers.”
“Exactly.” Calder inhales a measured breath. “The question is, why would any changes he made bother me or the others?”
My hope lifts off the ground. I don’t need anything.
Yes, it’ll be hard to start fresh somewhere, but not impossible.
Ransom and I were close, but ultimately, I was just his kid sister-in-law.
I know he loved me and Holly, but when I’d catch him staring into the distance, I’d bet all my money he was thinking of Julia or his boys.
“Want some eggs?” I ask to change the subject from will and trust talk. It’s not unusual for Sawyer to join me for breakfast since she works with Carlos as much as she’s at the clinic in town.
Her gaze lights up but darkens again when Calder digs into his food.
I’ll lose my appetite if Sawyer allows Calder to intimidate her by merely being a brooding cowboy at the dinner table. It’s going to be a long day. Saturday nights can be brutally busy.
“I’ll get you a plate. Sit.”
She does as I ask. She’s mostly likely starving, and she’s probably been surviving on coffee and adrenaline since she woke, but it looks like I commanded her, and she obeyed.
Calder arches a brow at me, his expression almost impressed.
I give him a “what?” look, and he smirks.
The heat kindling in my belly is as dangerous as the way those pants mold over his ass and thighs.