Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
XANDER
It’s early, about an hour before I need to be at the ranch to meet with my siblings and Indigo, and I’m fucking pouting.
Yeah, I can admit it.
And I never pout. That’s ridiculous. But I am today.
Because I fucking miss Ivy, and I hate that she isn’t here this morning to have breakfast with me and get my day started with all her sweetness.
But above every selfish reason I have for wanting her here with me, I’m worried about her.
It took everything in me to walk away from her yesterday.
The way her mother spoke to her, looked at her, everything had my back up, and I kept my phone nearby the rest of the day, in case she called or texted, but I never heard from her.
I should have gone over there to check on her.
At the very least, I should have called.
Now, this morning, I have to find out if she’s okay, so I shoot her a text.
Me: Good morning, Red. Just thinking about you. How are you holding up?
I sip my coffee and watch the bubbles bounce on the screen as she types out a reply.
Red: Good morning. I’m okay. Not wonderful, but it’ll be okay.
That sounds like she’s convincing herself as well as me.
I wish I didn’t have to go to this meeting this morning because I’d like to go check on Ivy, see if there’s anything I can do to help her. The thought of the resigned, sad look on her face yesterday is killing me.
Maybe after my meeting today I can go pick her up and take her for breakfast or even bring her here for the day so she can do her own thing. I won’t bother her if she wants to be left alone.
Me: You got this, wildcat. I’ll be in touch later today.
Red: Thanks for checking in!
Seeing that I need to leave to get to the ranch on time, I set my mug in the sink and head out to climb into the SUV. I miss my little sports car, but it still puts a lot of pressure on my knees when I climb in and out of it, so it’s probably best if I stick with the Rover for a few more weeks.
The drive to my childhood home, out on the Hendrix Ranch, takes about fifteen minutes. I don’t bother to knock as I walk through the front door and follow my nose and the sound of chatter to the kitchen, where almost everyone is gathered around the island already.
“You made muffins,” I say with a grin and walk around to hug my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Darby. Her huckleberry muffins are the best. “You’re my favorite sister.”
Darby snorts and Ava’s eyes lift to me. She narrows them as she cocks her head to the side.
“I know all your secrets,” Ava says.
“No, you don’t,” I counter, and then Harper walks in carrying my niece. “Hey, now you’re my favorite sister. Give me the baby.”
“He’s quite fickle today,” Ava tells Harper. “And apparently, bribable with food and babies.”
“Good to know,” Harper says as she takes the sleeping baby out of her car seat and passes her over to me. I cradle her in the crook of my arm and watch as she sucks on her little pacifier.
“Now she’s happy,” I say as I sway side to side. “Don’t worry, Uncle X is here.”
“Yes, she was so worried,” Tucker’s voice is dry as he watches me with humor in his eyes.
“I’m heading out to the barn so you guys can do the sibling thing,” Darby says. “There are more muffins keeping warm in the oven if you want them.”
“We’ll want them,” I assure her. “Thanks, D.”
She winks, Tucker pulls her in for a heated kiss that makes Ava roll her eyes, and then Darby leaves through the back door.
“Blake was going to keep Belle, but he got called into the ER,” Harper says.
“She’s fine,” Ava says, waving her off.
Tucker moves in next to me and drags his fingertip down Belle’s soft cheek.
“She’s so tiny,” he whispers.
“She’s gained four pounds since she was born,” Harper says.
“Still a little thing,” I agree.
The front door opens, and Easton walks in, followed by a nervous-looking Indigo.
“I found someone outside,” Easton says with a grin and gestures for the young woman to follow him. “Come on in, Indie. We’re pretty casual around here.”
“Thanks,” she says and loops her dark hair behind her ear. She’s wearing a red T-shirt and jeans and has a bag draped across her body that she’s clinging to with white knuckles, and every line in her body screams nerves.
She’s damn fucking nervous.
“We have muffins and coffee,” Ava tells her. “Can I make you a cup?”
“Oh, um, no thank you. I’m okay for now.” Indie nibbles her bottom lip as she skims her eyes over all of us. “I forget that there are so many of you.”
“Hey, we’re all your friends here,” Tucker says. “Why don’t we sit at the kitchen table?”
Indie nods, and we circle the table, find our seats, and I brace Belle against my shoulder, lightly rubbing my hand over her little back. She sighs and nuzzles into my neck, and I’m in love.
Easton’s eating a muffin, and Tucker sets a whole platter of them in the middle of the table. Harper takes the chair next to me, and she places a mug of fresh coffee in front of me.
“Hey, thanks.”
“I’m your favorite.”
Ava glares at us from across the table, and I smile smugly as I take a sip.
“What’s going on with you, Indie?” Easton asks as he peels the wrapper off his fourth muffin.
The man can pack the food away.
Indie clears her throat and rummages around in her bag, then pulls out a piece of paper and lays it on the table in front of her, folds her hands on top of it, and clears her throat again.
“I’m—I just—” She takes a deep breath and looks like she’s on the verge of tears.
“Okay, deep breath,” I tell her. I’ve been telling women to breathe a lot lately. “You’re safe here, sweetheart.”
Indie nods and takes another breath and looks down at the paper in front of her.
“A couple of weeks ago, I decided that it’s time that I take a vacation. I’ve been running the store for a long time, even before Gran and Gramps passed away, and I never take time away. I could use a week to recharge my batteries, you know?”
We all nod at her, everything sounding perfectly normal so far.
“And I thought, I’ve always wanted to see Paris, so I should aim for that. But to go there, I need a passport. So, I had to go through all of the papers in the office at home, and that wasn’t an easy feat because my Gran was an awesome ice cream maker, but horrible with paperwork.”
She swallows hard.
“Anyway, I finally found my birth certificate, and, well.”
Her shoulders fall.
My back goes up.
Tucker and I share a look.
“I didn’t know,” she says softly, and the rest of us stay absolutely quiet. “I promise, I didn’t know.”
Ava reaches over and takes Indie’s hand. “Okay. What didn’t you know, Indie?”
“My mom left my dad when I was just a baby,” Indie admits, and all the hairs on my body stand on end. “I don’t remember her. Dad died in a boating accident when I was ten, and I came back to Montana to live with Gran and Gramps.”
“Where did you live before that?” Tucker asks.
“We were in Oregon,” she replies. “Through the years, my grandparents never really talked about my mom. I know they didn’t like her, and it was kind of a sore spot. All I knew was that her name was Heather.”
No way.
Easton sits back.
Tucker’s eyes narrow.
Ava’s hand goes to her mouth.
“I always assumed that my parents were married, but that must not be the case.”
“You can show us the birth certificate, Indie,” Harper says softly, and Indie nods, unfolds the paper, and sets it in the middle of the table.
At first, none of us moves to pick it up.
Then, Tucker reaches out and takes it, and his eyes skim over it.
“Heather Hendrix,” he reads aloud.
“Wow,” Ava whispers.
I don’t have words.
“So, we know our mom left us for a guy named Patrick,” Tucker says.
“Patrick is my dad,” Indie says softly. “Well, he was. I don’t know anything about them.
About how they came to be together, nothing.
Dad wouldn’t talk about it when I was small, and then he was gone.
And my grandparents were happy to have me, and loved me so much, but they were tight lipped too.
I’m telling you all right now, I don’t want anything from any of you.
I don’t need anything. But I will be damned if I’ll keep anymore secrets. I won’t do it.”
She shakes her head slowly.
“We can fill in some holes, as far as what we know,” I tell her, my stomach rolling.
Harper gently takes Belle from me and puts her back in her car seat so she can sleep while we talk.
“Mom had been having an affair for a while by the time our dad found out. Ava was a baby, not even walking yet. When Dad discovered the affair, he told Mom that she had to choose. And she chose your dad.”
Indie’s eyes fill with tears.
“After that, we aren’t sure,” Easton says, picking up the story. “We never heard from her again. We know that they left Silver Springs because this is a small town and it was a huge scandal for a woman to abandon her kids, but we didn’t know where she went.”
Indie’s eyes go round and she swallows hard. “You never heard from her again? How is that possible?”
“She didn’t want us,” Ava says. “Or anything to do with us. No birthday calls, no Christmas cards. Zilch. So, if she left when you were tiny, too, I’d say we all dodged a bullet.”
“Ava,” Indie begins. “How old are you?”
“Thirty,” Ava replies.
“I’m twenty-three. So, my parents were together for years before they had me. Like, at least six years. And then they had me, and Mom immediately left. Is she allergic to kids? What the fuck is the deal?”
We’re quiet for a moment, lost in our own thoughts, and I have to take a deep breath because I have so many conflicting emotions rolling through me.
I’m pissed.
And I’m . . . frustrated.
I remember my mom as being funny and engaging and silly when I was little. She told stories and sang songs and had us help her in the garden. I was young, not quite in school yet, when she left, but I remember her being a good mom.
And then she was just gone. Without an explanation or a goodbye, she left.
Because women leave.
Until they want something.