Chapter Thirty-six
West
“Baby mama, I’m home,” I announce, as I enter the house to find Dais in my kitchen with Waylon wrapped tightly to her chest in a soft fabric sling.
It’s been almost a month since Eddie’s funeral.
Our days are long, and between the ranch, worshiping her body between the sheets, and caring for a teething Waylon, we barely get enough sleep. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“Hi,” she says over her shoulder, stirring a pot of—actually, I don’t know what the hell she’s cooking and I don’t care. Everything she makes is magic, she’s fucking magic, and I’m one lucky son of a bitch. I wrap my arms around them both from behind and press a kiss to her neck.
“Hi, darlin’. Not gonna lie, I love coming home to you two.”
She turns in my arms and plants a soft kiss against my lips, “We love you coming home.”
I pull her closer, careful not to squash a peacefully sleeping Waylon. I dart my tongue along her lower lip and she moans. Which, of course, wakes the baby. “Hey, little ma—”
Daisy claps a hand over my mouth. “Hush, he’ll go back to sleep if you don’t engage.” He lets out a startled cry, his little lip turning down in a pout. “Too late.”
“Sorry, my bad.”
“It’s fine, this is almost ready to go in the oven anyway. I’ll just feed him and put him down for the night.”
“Smells good. Can I help?”
“Nope, I’m making chicken pot pie, so it’s all kind of done.”
“What’s that?” she asks, nodding in the direction of the stack of mail I put down.
“Oh, I swung by your house and collected your mail.”
She presses a kiss to my cheek. “Thanks, cowboy.” Daisy unfastens the sling and pulls a screaming Waylon out of it.
Her hips sway as she rocks him toward the living room.
God I love this woman. I’m hit with the realization that I want a whole goddamn army of kids under our feet and in our hair, and I want to have a hell of a lot of fun making them.
Of course, I haven’t clued her in on this plan yet, so I should probably keep those thoughts to myself until she’s recovered fully from Waylon’s birth.
My phone rings in my pocket and I fish it out. Rhett’s number pops up on the screen. “I gotta take this.”
“Okay,” she calls and Waylon’s crying stops.
I step outside and shut the door behind me before answering. “Talk to me, Rhett.”
“All business today, I see.”
“I got a woman, a baby, and a chicken pot pie waiting on me, so unless you have good news, I’m all business.”
“Where’d you get a woman and baby?” Rhett asks, though I know he’s likely heard the gossip about me and Daisy. He has already admitted to reading the “Report”. I bet he’s even accumulated a “top fan” badge.
“Your mama’s house,” I say. “You gonna be able to make it to Christmas, Son?”
Rhett chuckles darkly. “Oh, so we’re a comedian today too, huh? Guess everything is coming up roses for Winchester.”
“Alright, asshole. So what’s this news?”
“That, I can’t tell you over the phone. But dinner sounds great. I’ll be at your door in say ... five minutes?”
“You dog, you’re already on the property?”
“Thought I better call ahead to make sure I wasn’t walking in on you and our head cheerleader trying to add to your baby situation.”
“Sneaky son of a bitch.”
“See you in a bit.”
I don’t even have time to warn Daisy that company is coming before Rhett’s cruiser is pulling up outside. I walk across the drive to greet him, and to save him from being accosted by Ham—who loves to fuck with strange men and do what bulls do best; bully them.
“Hey, West.” Rhett is sandwiched against his vehicle, with Ham eyeballing him and displaying dominance by growling low and pawing the ground. He’s all show, though I don’t really want Rhett to know that just yet. “Wanna call off your attack dog?”
“Not really. What did you have to tell me?”
“Hamburger Ferdinand Winchester,” Daisy calls from behind me, using his full name, including the middle name she’d given to Ham not long after she moved in. “You leave Rhett alone.”
He turns his head and bellows at her, the bull equivalent of a typical teenage, “But Mom” reply.
“Ham,” she chastises again, and the beast backs up several steps before tossing his head and trotting over to his ball to sulk.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Come on in, Rhett, he won’t chase you.”
“Much,” I reply with a smug grin. I’ve seen this man face down the toughest of ranchers without even blinking an eye. Hell, he’s completed two tours of Afghanistan, killed enemies, and come back bruised but his confidence unshaken. Yet, he was going to let a harmless little bull be his undoing.
“It’s good to see you, Rhett.”
“You too, Miss Daisy. Though, I gotta ask why I’m seeing you here with this guy?” He hooks a thumb at me. “By the way, thanks for your help, asshole.”
“What can I say.” Daisy shrugs. “I always was a sucker for a man in a cowboy hat.”
“Perhaps I should draw your attention to exhibit A,” Rhett says, tipping the brim of his TSCRA-issued one. I shove my friend. Ham bellows and tosses his ball with his nose, beckoning us to come play.
Daisy laughs. “You haven’t changed a bit since high school.”
At that, Rhett’s smile darkens. His eyes turn mercurial and for a beat, he’s no longer standing on my porch.
It’s clear Daisy doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, shoot. I gotta get back inside to supper. Rhett, you eaten yet?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome to stay.” Daisy gives me a warning glance. “Right, cowboy?”
I raise a brow. “Sure.”
“Thank you, ma’am, it’s a long time since I’ve had a home cooked meal.”
“Well, you’re welcome to join us any time you like.”
He nods. “I appreciate it.”
Daisy heads inside, and I glare at Rhett, “Staying for supper? Really?”
“What?” He shrugs half-heartedly. “She offered.”
“Still cockblocking after all this time, I see?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this still the honeymoon phase? My bad.”
“No phase about it. It’s true love.” I grab two bottled beers from the mini fridge, pop the caps, and hand Rhett one.
“Oh, true love, is it? How exactly did this happen, didn’t she just have Buchannan’s kid?”
“You’ve been away too long. He left her, and I stepped up.”
A genuine smile tips the corners of his lips. “Well, I’m happy for you both.”
“Appreciate it. Where you stayin’ in town?”
“Why? You thinkin’ about asking me to become a throuple?”
“Funny, shithead. You making house calls at supper time is a dead giveaway you’re eating out of the vending machine at The Stagger-Inn, outside of town. Why aren’t you staying here at the B&B?”
“And live beside my little brother?”
“Why the hell not?”
“You of all people should not be asking me that. Why don’t you live in your old room in the ranch house?”
“Fair point. Well, listen. It ain’t much, but there’s an abandoned log cabin in the west pasture, about twenty minutes’ drive from Lemon and Colt’s.
It took a pretty big hit from the last tornado that rolled through here.
” I take a sip of my beer, and continue, “There are some holes in the roof. Electricity is on, but it’s dicey.
You can forget cell reception or running water for the moment, but something tells me that won’t bother you, because a creek bed runs right through the yard behind it. ”
“It’s making the Stagger-Inn sound like a five-star retreat.”
I grin smugly. “Now I know you’ve laid your head on worse.”
“You’re right, though there ain’t a lot of laying going on these days. At least not for me.”
“Well, it’s yours if you want it. Maybe not forever. I imagine Wyatt will eventually let go of Mama’s apron strings, though probably not ’til the cabin gets a high-speed internet strong enough to support his Pornhub addiction.”
“Glad to see you’re all still busting each other’s balls around here.”
“Wouldn’t dream of stopping. Only now, I get paid for it.”
“As fun as this trip down memory lane has been, we do need to talk about your herd. I don’t have refutable evidence, no leads, or actual proof given every cattle rancher in the state uses those supplements, but I’d bet money on Caleb Thornton being all over this.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill them.”
“Maybe not the brightest thing to say to a federal agent. We’ve already questioned Old Man Thornton. He’s a shifty bastard, and there is no love lost between the two of you. They stand the most to gain, and Buck was a fidgety mess the whole time we were on the property, but we have no proof.”
My blood runs hot and I seethe. Those assholes killed our cattle, cost us half a million, and there’s not enough fucking evidence to condemn them? “Caleb didn’t do this by himself.”
“No, he didn’t. But it don’t mean he had his sons do it either. He could have just as easily paid off his ranch hands, locals, or outsourced that work from drifters travelling through.”
“Bullshit, Rhett. You know as well as I do, they’ve been trying to get their hands on Winchester land since before Caleb’s great granddaddy and my great granddaddy were in school.”
“I know it, but without proof and a warrant, I can’t do shit. Maybe having me on the property will deter more slayings from happening though? I’ll be sure to have a chat with Wilma Withington next time I see her in town. That oughta get the word out that I’m close by and watching.”
“Finally, a use for that damn social media page.” I sigh, resigned, and shake my head. “It couldn’t fucking hurt.”
“Look, I know this isn’t the news you wanted, but, West, my being here don’t mean I’m gonna go along with all the bullshit you and your boys get up to.
This badge means something to me, and I won’t compromise it.
So if you’re planning on hitting the Thorntons where it hurts, just know I’m your friend, but I’m also bound to uphold the letter of the law. ”
“Understood.” I nod, and wonder if I haven’t just invited the devil to bed down for the night. I wouldn’t put this past Caleb, but without proof, I won’t start a damn war we’re not ready for.
Rhett finishes his beer and pats his flat stomach. The bastard is in better shape now than he was playing varsity. “You realize this means I’ll be close enough for supper every night?”
“Not on your fucking life, Rhett. You know how to fish and build a campfire. I’d say you’ll be just fine at the cabin.”
He laughs and props his feet up on the outdoor dining table, looking over the property. “I could get used to this.”