37. Chapter 37
Chapter 37
Maci
“O k, I’ve got the list, I’ll be back in a bit!”
“Thanks, dear.” Andi gives me an air kiss on the cheek before I head outside to my Jeep. There are a few last-minute items to grab before the stores are jam-packed with Thanksgiving shoppers.
I don’t bother letting the Jeep warm up, but by the time I’m to the front gate, it’s blasting warm air into the cab. The wrought iron bars of the gate sport a beautiful script S and swing open easily.
A car is perched on the shoulder near the driveway. I’m on high alert as the driver exits their car, not sure if this person needs help or is here to cause trouble. I roll the window down anyway, determined to floor it, if need be.
A woman in jeans and a sweater walks over. She’s carrying paperwork in her hand.
“Do you need some help?” I furrow my brows, taking her in. “Are you lost?”
When she nears my window, she says, “Maci?”
My head pulls back. I don’t know this woman. “Yes?”
“Maci McCullough?” she asks again, all business.
Something niggles the back of my head. “…Yes.”
“This is a summons. Please sign here in acknowledgment.” She shoves half of the stack through my window, continuing to speak rapid-fire style.
“Excuse me?” The words don’t make sense as I study it.
A huge X is at the top of the page. “Sign here,” she demands, tapping with a pen.
Slowly, I take the pen from her, still not making sense of what I’m reading. I sign my name slower than usual and return the page to her, left with a few sheets in my hand.
She says nothing else before heading back to her car. My eyes dart between her and the paperwork.
Did I really just get served?
I stare at the heading for a while, finally computing that Alan is suing me for the wrongful death of Colt. This can’t be happening.
Folding the papers in half, I fling them into the passenger seat and whip around in the street, heading back onto the ranch. I take the drive faster than usual, parking with a lurch and jumping out with the mangled pages.
Andi’s head pops out of the kitchen, her lips pursed and brows drawn in confusion. “Did you forget something?” she asks, when she sees me coming up the hall.
“No, someone was waiting for me at the gate.” My breathing is shallow as I reach her.
“What? Who?” She looks me over as if the answer is hidden somewhere on me.
I hold the summons up. “A process server. Look at this; I just got served.”
She takes a beat to look back and forth between my face and hands several times. Finally, she takes the papers and looks at them. One hand comes to her mouth as she reads silently.
The front door closes hard and both of our heads jerk to find Sutton storming in. “You okay?”
“No, but how did you know I was here?”
“Jason saw you come hauling ass back in the drive and told me. What’s going on?” His hackles are raised and he studies me, looking for anything amiss.
“I got served.”
His eyes snap wide before narrowing. “By who?” he asks, but it’s clear he already knows the answer.
“Alan,” I tell him anyway.
He works his jaw back and forth. “That motherfucker.”
“Sutton!” Andi’s surprised at his quiet words, but fury coats his features. He doesn’t acknowledge her. “I’m surprised they came today. I’d think all state employees are off the whole week.”
“Apparently not,” I mutter.
I pinch the space between my eyes, putting pressure against the place where a headache is forming. “I need to call Hank.”
“Hank?” Andi and Sutton ask in unison.
“Yes, Nana’s lawyer.”
Sutton cocks his head, face shadowed in the dim hall light. “He’s an estate lawyer, Maci.”
“I know that, but I don’t exactly have a defense attorney on retainer!” To his credit, he doesn’t seem pissed at my outburst. “Sorry. I know what you’re thinking. He can’t help. But I don’t have another option. Maybe Hank can send something and if Alan sees I do have representation, he’ll back off.”
Sutton purses his lips before dragging his teeth along the bottom one.
“Out with it,” I say, crossing my arms with a sigh.
He shakes his head. “You do what you think is right, Firecracker, but that bastard won’t be swayed that easily.”
He’s right. I know he is. But I have to start somewhere.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Sutton kisses my head and turns to go. I don’t miss his frustration or the defeated expression on his face, but I don’t know what he thinks he can do. All of this because I accepted a stupid drink from a random stranger.
I head outside to sit on the back of the Defender, kicking my feet and raising my face to the low sun, soaking in whatever rays I can. With closed eyes, I enjoy the intermittent breeze kissing my skin periodically. Eventually, I dial Hank.
“Hey, Maci,” he says, by way of greeting.
His voice is pleasant, and I can’t help but tip a half smile that he can’t see. “Hi, Hank.”
“You doing okay? I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
I sigh. “Actually, I’m not. That’s why I called.”
“How can I help?”
I can’t believe I have to say this. I steel my voice before saying, “I need you to represent me as a defense attorney.”
There’s a long silence that stretches. Understanding must dawn on him because he says, “I think I’m going to need you to elaborate. Is this about the situation at Ruthie’s?”
“Yes. Alan is suing me. He’s…the victim’s father.”
He allows quiet to hang for a few more moments. “Maci, I’d love to help you, but I’m not a defense attorney. My specialty is estate law.”
“I know, I know. I’m not expecting a miracle.”
“I can point you in the right direction. I have a friend from law school that I can share with you. He has a practice in San Antonio.”
“Hank, I understand what you’re saying, I do.” The words catch in my throat. Why am I fighting this so hard? “I just want you to help.”
“I—” He stops himself. “Maci, I don’t think it would be fair to you.”
My eyes well and my throat tightens. “I know it doesn’t make sense, and I understand the argument. But please. Please.” There’s more quiet. “Colt’s mom doesn’t even think I was in the wrong. Surely that has to work to my advantage.”
He sighs. “Ok, listen, I’ll call my friend and get some information. Then you and I can sit down and discuss the case, and we’ll go from there. But if I don’t think I can win this, I’m sending you to him. I’m not letting Ruthie’s granddaughter go to jail because her prick of a stepfather is a money-hungry bastard.”
A wide smile overtakes my mouth. “Ok, totally fair. That’s all I’m asking. And it kind of helps that you see him for what he is. He didn’t even like Colt. They hadn’t spoken in years.”
“That’s good to know. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can plan something.”
Following my conversation with Hank and the events of the morning, my brain is fried. I need a creative outlet to direct all of my emotions. So, after I finally get to the store, I end up in the barn, sans any animals, painting a four-foot tall gingerbread house.
The Jingle Bell Bash is in two days and I should’ve started on this sooner, so the urgent distraction is even more helpful given what I’m trying not to think about. I was extremely proud of my Halloween mini-session backdrop. The whimsical, dark lemonade stand was perfect. Having a trailer from the ranch was so fun for the Fall Festival, and my holiday mini-session backdrop turned out beautiful. Oddly, I’m even more ecstatic about this gingerbread house backdrop for photos this week, which is ironic coming from a Halloween superfan.
Once I have the window cut out, I paint the entire piece the perfect shade of brown and leave it to dry.
Sutton told me that Daisy got herself into the hay loft recently. She’s so mischievous. I have no idea if that’s normal for a cow or not.
I wander the space, finding the stairs she must have used to get into the loft, and make my way up. The thick aroma of hay is a comfort, and I work my way through the bales, positive I’m going to come across a mouse or two, over to a cutout window. How the heck did she get over here? Maybe they moved the hay around after.
Sitting on two stacked bales, I pull out my phone and dial Izzy. It’s been too long since we had an honest conversation, and it’s time to tell my friends what I’m going through.
“Hi honey,” she says cheerfully.
“Hi,” I say quietly. “Are you busy?”
“Never too busy for you. Are you ok?” Her voice is soft and soothing. One day, she’s going to make a stellar mom.
“Maybe not as much as I’ve let on.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to add Leah to the call, ok?”
“Of course.” She waits while I pause the call and dial Leah, who answers as soon as I’ve merged the lines.
“Hey, woman,” Leah says.
“I have you on three-way.”
“Oh, this should be good.” As usual, her tart commentary is the opposite of Izzy’s calm nature, but they provide a balanced approach that I appreciate. I know what to expect with them.
“How are you two? I miss you.”
“Same shit, different day.” Leah has a tendency to sweep things under the rug like I do. Things that must be getting more difficult, if her increased drinking is any indication.
“I’m all ears,” I promise.
“Oh no, this is about you,” she says, deflecting.
“Ok, fine. Next time.” I kick my feet against the bales. “I’m sorry I’ve distanced myself from you guys. I’ve been trying to deal with everything on my own terms, but I think it’s clear that I need more help.”
“What can we do?” Izzy asks, immediately.
“It’s not any one thing. I actually think it’s more about me. I need to be more open and ask for help when I need it.”
“Are you having flashbacks?” Leah asks.
“Not exactly. Nightmares. I’ve been trying to make my way back to Nana’s, deal with what happened head on. I found some stuff online about exposure therapy, and since I don’t exactly have mental health services, I’m doing what I can to treat it myself.”
“Hmm.” Izzy’s concern is clear. “What are you doing?”
“Gradually revisiting things that trigger me. Physical or emotional. It’s a slow process.”
“That’s okay.”
“I just wanted you two to know that I may be reaching out more.”
“Anytime,” they say in unison, and I smile.
“Talking about it is hard, but maybe just having people around sometimes will help.”
“To take your mind off of it,” Leah guesses.
“Um no, the opposite actually. Everything I’ve read says that I need to face everything. Just incrementally.”
“Ok, mind on it. Got it.” I can hear her grin through the phone.
I breathe a laugh. My friends are just what I need.