Chapter 4 #2
It’s Saturday, and I’m packaging the last of the barrel I dumped this afternoon when Iverson appears at my side, an expectant look on his face. I put the lid on the last box I filled, marking off my progress for the day in the computer, ignoring him the whole time.
“You’ve been dogging me for days,” I say with a growl when I’m done.
“And you’ve been avoiding me for days.”
I have. After Jamison and Kacey met Prescott, my brothers all wanted answers.
I don’t have any. Prescott has shown up each day this week and managed to avoid me every single one.
She left me a note to say no one has openings to foster the strays.
Our furry wildflowers are wait-listed. As for me, I’ve got a black Lab who follows me everywhere and is fascinated with chickens.
Having a dog follow me around again is kind of nice. The house isn’t so empty when she’s skidding across the floor.
My reply to Prescott’s note was to run into the house for a pen and leave my phone number on it. She hasn’t replied. Or texted. Why didn’t I think to get her number in the first place?
Probably because I usually avoid that step. Things can end easier that way.
“What’s with Silas’s daughter?” he asks.
I scowl at him. “I don’t know anything you don’t know.”
“Hell, Haven. You haven’t talked to me all week.”
“You have a job and a family.” Tavis has been extra fussy with teething, and Iverson stayed home the last two days so Jamison could go to work. I could’ve stopped in during morning chores or when I fixed some fence last Wednesday, but yeah, I kept clear.
“You picked up a dog, three cats, and a woman on the side of the road, and you didn’t say a thing.”
His hurt tone is exactly why I’ve been a lone wolf all week.
Lane knew the story and didn’t pry. Cruz is the same.
My brothers? Nosy fuckers. Both of them.
They have their own lives now, and I can stand on my own.
“There’s nothing to say. She’s only landing in Huckleberry Springs for a little while. ”
“Jamison said she’s pretty.”
Pretty is too weak a description. Stunning. Enthralling. Mesmerizing. It’s not just her loveliness. She has a body a guy could get lost in for days, and she keeps me on my toes in conversation. “She is, but I heard her tell a guy in Bootleg that she doesn’t date men in cowboy boots.”
Iverson snorts. “I imagine Silas was a hellion back in his day.”
“Enough to scare his girl away from them forever.” My fondness for the cantankerous bar owner dips. “He never talked about a daughter. Doesn’t that seem weird?”
“Because he’s too busy reliving his glory days. That’s where his head probably was then and now.” He levels me with a stare. “You aren’t talking about her either.”
“Why would I?”
“Haven, you don’t let a woman keep a toothbrush at your place, much less four animals.”
The back of my neck prickles. Accurate statement, but it makes me sound callous instead of prudent. “I never wanted to lead anyone on. Toothbrushes and overnights do that.”
“You don’t even bring them to your house.”
Now it’s like sandpaper across my nape. I’m cautious. “This is different. She’s not staying at my place, and she’s only out there for the rescues—not me.” A sour taste hits my tongue. “It’s only while she’s trying to find a home for them.”
“You rushing to get them off your property? ”
Do I think about handing Meadow off to someone who doesn’t know that she loves hanging out by the chickens, but she won’t bother them?
Or that she makes a mess drinking water, so make sure to have a mat for all the drops that splatter off her tongue?
Don’t smother Tan. He loves getting loved, but his drive to hunt is stronger.
Turn those cuddles toward Daisy and Thistle. They’ll soak it all up.
Yeah, I’m banking all the information, and there’s a protectiveness I can’t run from. But I’ll give them up for a good home. The right home. The perfect home. “I’ll ask around once they’re ready for a family.”
“Sunny said the dog followed you into the house.” Only Iverson calls his wife Sunny. It’s behind the story of how they hooked up. It’s special between them.
Does anyone else call Prescott Red? “I’ve been working on training her. She’s a good dog.”
His scrutiny increases. “And Silas’s girl? She follow you into the house too?”
I scowl at him. “No. Besides, Silas said he’d cut off my balls.”
“Who hasn’t he said that to?”
I smirk but shake my head. “You didn’t hear him. He’s really protective of her.”
“So protective he doesn’t talk about her?” Iverson squints across the packaging room to the large stills on the other side. He finally shrugs. “I guess if I worked around a bunch of horny, drunk men, I wouldn’t talk about Kacey either.”
Suddenly my perspective changes. It’s probably the best decision Silas ever made. “She’s working for him now. I don’t know what Prescott and Silas’s relationship is like, but she’s turned to him when she’s down. That’s something.”
“Campbell wants to meet her. Durban and I are curious as hell.”
I bristle for no damn reason. Prescott isn’t mine, and I can’t control who has access to her. I wouldn’t anyway. I get enough of that dealing with my mom and brothers.
I could stay here jaw-jacking about how Prescott isn’t interested in me, but there’s work to do. “I’m gonna go to the rickhouse and pull Monday’s barrel.”
“I’ll go with.”
I don’t move. He doesn’t either.
“Fuck, man.” I take off my ball cap and run my hand through my hair. “It’s nothing.”
“It could be.”
“I told you, she’s not interested.”
“Not her, but with someone.”
I shake my head and start for the back door. How did this turn to my dating life? “I’m not interested either.”
“Sure about that?”
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you still get doses of Mom’s nonsense.”
Defensiveness heats the back of my neck. I push out the back door and start across the corner of the parking lot to the rickhouse. “It’s not that. Just because you found marital bliss doesn’t mean I’m dying to.”
“Durban’s almost in marital bliss too.”
As if I need to be reminded. “Yup.”
He follows me inside, and I stop at the first row of double-stacked barrels. The one I need is on the second shelf. I hit the button for the big overhead door. The forklift is parked in a shed attached to the rickhouse .
His attention bores into my back. He’s not dropping this, dammit. I’m almost forty, and they haven’t bugged me about my single status until now. Until they both found the loves of their lives. “I’m not sitting at home all lonely.”
Not most nights anyway. Maybe I have worked more and gone to Bootleg more since Durban and Campbell attached themselves to each other.
“You don’t have to be either. You can let someone in. Besides her.”
Irritation sweeps through me. The back-and-forth about our mother gets old after a while. “You mean Mom?”
“She was never a mom.”
“She did her best, but she has issues. You know that. The difference is, I don’t blame her for them.” I go down the row, looking for the whiskey from six months ago, aging in an old pinot noir barrel. We’re going to call it Foster Noir.
He stays on my heels. “I don’t blame her for that. I blame her for everything else. She’ll ruin your life and blame you for it.”
“She just wants some connection.” I find the barrel and bypass it, heading for the door to the shed.
“And some money.”
A knot forms between my shoulders. Sometimes. She’s been asking for more lately.
“Is she taking her meds?” he presses.
“I don’t know. I don’t ask.” I don’t want to know the answer. Mom thinks she knows best.
“You haven’t told her about Durban and Campbell, have you?”
I spin on him, frustrated with myself more than him. “It was a mistake. I was happy for you and got too excited. ”
I let slip that Iverson was married and had a kid. Mom showed up, and when I wasn’t home, she made a scene at the Hawthorne ranch. It’s the first and only time she’s met Jamison. She hasn’t met the kids, and I’ve been able to keep Tavis a secret.
I’m trying not to reveal that Durban’s wedding is four weeks away.
“I know, Haven,” he says quietly. “We were nothing but puppets for her. She’ll want you to cater to her when she wants, and when you need her, she won’t be there.”
I know that. But she’s my mom, and she didn’t die on a hike like our dad. It’s not a bad thing to want to get to know her. To want a connection of some sort.
“I’ve got to get this done before the distillery locks up.” As if I can’t open it back up. Each owner has a code.
“You going to Bootleg tonight?”
Why? Is he waiting to bug me about going to see Prescott? “No.”
“Too bad.” The hair on my arms stands on end. There’s something in his tone. “You could’ve said hi to Sunny and Campbell while you were there.”