Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Durban
Since Iverson and Jamison are still in the hospital waiting for the new arrival to show, I bring Campbell with me to do chores Saturday morning. She’s wearing jeans and boots and a little pink top that makes me want to park this pickup in the nearest opening between the trees.
She hangs back with the horses while I take a round bale out to the cows.
By the time I return, she’s picked the fresh eggs, topped off the chicken feed and water, and is in the barn with the kittens.
She’s sitting on a square bale of hay, cross-legged, with little kittens crawling all over her and the mama cat sprawled at her side.
Even Coal ditched me to hang out with Campbell.
I find an empty five-gallon pail and turn it over. As soon as I take a seat on it, two little kittens make their way to me, little tails straight in the air. I pick one kitten up while the other claws its way up my jeans. Mama Cat sees me and comes sauntering over.
“She likes you,” Campbell says. Her long hair is hanging out the back of the Hawthorne Guest Ranch ball cap she retrieved from her car before we left.
“She knows I feed her.” I rub the cat’s cheeks and she swipes all around my legs. The kittens are sniffing me and I give them pets too.
“She’s a good mama.”
She is, and she’s getting fixed next month so she can be a spoiled barn cat. “I have a soft spot for good mamas.”
Campbell strokes a hand over a blissfully sleeping kitten. Both of our phones vibrate at the same time. I take mine out.
Iverson: It’s a boy. Tavis Hennessy.
A delighted gasp leaves Campbell. “A nephew! That’s going to rock Jamison’s world after bossing two sisters around all her life.”
I chuckle and tuck my phone away. I’m elated for my brother, and I can’t wait until I get to meet the little guy. But right now, I’m more than a little grateful to have a mostly normal morning with Campbell where I don’t feel like we’re sneaking around.
Having dinner with Haven last night was more fun than I thought it’d ever be.
Campbell put Haven to work and talked to him like a friend.
For a while, I didn’t think he’d leave, and I honestly didn’t mind.
We were chatting about the ranch, laughing about some of the wild cowboys we worked with and where they are now.
Campbell shared what it was like growing up as a Hawthorne with the whole spread of the ranch as her backyard.
Privileged but protected. And we talked about what it was like to work for her dad. Hard damn work, but the job was stable.
I might not be looking for another relationship, but last night resembled what I wanted from one.
“Iverson’s been looking after rowdy boys for a few decades now.” Mama Cat decided the dog would make a better bed and trotted over to him. “A son won’t faze him after me and Haven.”
“You guys don’t seem rowdy. You seem very, very serious.”
“Not that serious.”
She laughed and one of the kittens jerked awake. “You are definitely the most serious.”
“I wasn’t always.” I like her laugh, but the thought that she thinks I’m the least exciting of the bunch bothers me. I’m fun, dammit.
“Hmm, not so sure about that.” A smile still plays along her lips. “I think you were always the voice of reason. Who’s that character? Jiminy Cricket?”
“He was the conscience.” I’m sounding less like a thrill by the second.
At least I can rock her world in bed. A little scrape of longing scratches the back of my throat.
Before Natalie, women often moved on because I wasn’t the rough and rowdy cowboy they wanted.
That’s why being with Natalie was a reprieve.
She sometimes joked about how I should send her cowboy videos instead of dick pics, but she mostly liked that I listened to her.
I listened, but she didn’t often reciprocate. I saw it as a sign that she wasn’t with me just because I could rope a steer. Our worlds didn’t overlap, but she assumed I couldn’t know enough about hers to have an opinion on it, and I didn’t realize that until I’d wasted so much time.
A pit smolders in my gut.
“What are you thinking about?” Campbell’s scratching under the tiny chin of a tortie. “Did I insult you?”
“No.” A foolish feeling slowly sinks in. I’m being sensitive. “I was just thinking that you’re right. I’m usually the one telling everyone what won’t work with their plan or the execution.”
Her pink lips turn down. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Avery was Jiminy Cricket for us. Sometimes, I joke that’s why she moved so far away. She’d had enough of our shit.”
“Would you have come back if you didn’t have to?” I like where I live. Do I want to see more of the world? Maybe. I’ve seen the bad parts and that’s enough for me.
“I missed home. And since Jamison defied Daddy’s rules about dating his employees, he’s lightened up a little.
I think he realizes that we can take care of ourselves.
I mean, he raised us to.” She sighs. “I just didn’t think I’d be able to do what I want here.
Planning my ex’s wedding wasn’t it, and I’m not sure if I can make an entire living doing event planning for rural communities, but I’m going to try. ”
“You’ll get more work after the wedding.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
She bites back a smile, her white teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All, what’s something Foster House can do for the wedding that would double as marketing?”
I narrow my eyes at her. She’s still gnawing on that lower lip, and I’m tempted to take over for her, but we’re talking about her work. “I feel like you already have an idea.”
“I do.” Her grin breaks free and it’s an arrow to my goddamn heart. “I’m sure it’s way too late to do anything about my idea, but I thought those little single-serve bottles would make great wedding favors for the reception.”
“How many would you need?”
She rolls a shoulder. “Fifty would be enough.”
I do some quick calculations. That’s no amount at all. “If I give you some spirits for the bride and groom to choose from, we can bottle them this week.”
Her eyes flare and she sits straighter. “Really?” She hugs the cat closer to her. “I wasn’t even going to ask. I could put them on all the tables after the meal is served.”
I laugh. “When it’s too late to say anything?”
“She won’t be able to without looking like a dick. Everyone’s going to be gushing about them and she’ll have to eat her irritation. Then it’s all done and I don’t have to talk to either one again.”
“Deal, but put the blame on us. We’ll call it Chapel House. I’ll run it by the guys, but it’s such a small batch, it won’t be anything. Haven can make a quick label for it in minutes.”
“Chapel House.” The awe in her voice nestles around my heart. I could trick ride around her and she wouldn’t blink. I’m just doing my job, and she’s impressed. “What kind of whiskey will it be?”
I know just the barrel to take it from. “It’ll go well with the vanilla bean in the wedding cake. I’m aging it in an ex-sherry barrel, hoping to bring out the apricot and almond.”
“Oh, yum.” She sounds like she means it instead of tuning me out.
“Regardless, it should be a nice mix of fruit and spice. I’ll save you a bottle.”
“I’m taking you at your word.” She stretches her long legs out and disrupts the sleeping creatures on her lap. They hop off and lope to snuggle with Mama Cat and Coal. “What do you do on a lazy Saturday?”
Nothing this special. “I usually go to the distillery, but Lane and Cruz are getting everything done today. They wanted me to take this weekend off because of the wedding next weekend, and then Mae Bailey is coming to town Monday. They want to get everything ready to show off to her even though she’s seen the distillery already. ”
Her brow furrows. “I know that name.” She snaps her fingers. “Copper Summit Bourbon. She was your foster mom.”
Pleased she remembered when I haven’t talked about Mae a lot, I nod. “She’s disappointed to miss the monthly crochet club.”
“I’ll get her the dates. The weather’s nice and Edna will make her a bestie in no time. Do you get to hang out with her?”
I’ve seen Mae a couple of times since we opened the distillery, but this time, she’s staying for a few days with Lane. “Lane wants to plan a get-together at the tasting room. He’ll haul some grills in and whoever can show is invited.”
“Good. She should see that not only can you make some good spirits, but you’re a beast at the grill.”
I laugh, but she’s right. I want to see Mae and show her that we turned out okay. Three months with the Baileys was a blink, but it was needed after losing Dad. “You’re coming too, right?”
Surprise lights her eyes. “Like I just happen to show up? I know Haven knows about us, but he also knows the arrangement.”
The goddamn arrangement. I just want her there.
I want to introduce her to Mae. My mom isn’t in our lives, and I don’t even know where she’s living anymore, but Mae’s arrival is creating that same sensation.
That I want you to meet my mother sensation.
Which is crazy. Campbell isn’t my girlfriend, and Mae’s not my mom.
How do I get Campbell to the gathering without revealing ourselves? “You’re doing work for Foster House. Therefore, you’re invited.”
Her pleased smile turns wicked. “Stanford is going to be so irate I have plans for Monday.”
“He’s going to make you give him a discount.” My blood boils. That fucker should pay her for every second of her life he wasted.
“And then January will stew about why he’s so uptight about it. She so deserves it.” She unfolds her legs. “Okay, Jiminy, what do you do for fun on Saturdays?”
“Work.” But I’ve never had a whole day to kill with her.
“You haven’t always worked. What’d you do before, when you had time off from the ranch?”
“Fish.” I haven’t been out since the ice and snow melted. “There’s a spot not far from the distillery. It’s land we made sure to keep out of the deal so we could preserve our secret spot.”