23. Beau
twenty-three
Beau
The setting sun throws pinkish-golden light across the lawn as Daisy, Ollie, and I cross the backyard of the Davenport family home.
From forty paces away, I can already hear the laughter and music inside.
Ollie skips ahead, unable to contain his excitement, and I wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my jeans.
Daisy glances at me. “Second thoughts?”
I pick up her hand and twine my fingers through hers. “Not about you.”
“About my brothers?”
I pretend to scoff. “No. I love being outnumbered.”
“Ha ha. They promised to be on their best behavior, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried. I’m wary.”
“It’ll be fine,” she says. After a moment, she adds, “Or is this the stupidest idea I’ve ever had? Is it too much too soon?”
The knots in my stomach notwithstanding, the answer to her question is easy.
“I knew I loved you the day I met you,” I tell her. “I didn’t want to go slow then, and I don’t want to go slow now. We’ve wasted enough time, and nothing is going to change my mind about making things right with your family.”
I lift her hand to kiss the back of it, and she sighs happily, pressing her body against my arm. She’s warm and soft and smells like spring. How did I ever think I could live without her?
Up at the house, the back door bursts open, and Izzy flies out, running across the lawn wearing a massive tutu and no shoes.
She skids to a stop in front of Ollie. “I’ve been watching from the window. Want to race back?”
Ollie grins. “Sure!”
They take off surprisingly fast for kids with such short legs, and I shout after him. “Wipe your feet before you go inside!”
“He likes it here,” Daisy says reflectively.
“Silver Leaf has been good for him,” I agree.
She falls quiet, and I wonder if she shares my flicker of unease. If Daisy and I are serious about giving ourselves a second chance, we’re risking more than our hearts. Ollie’s happiness is at stake now too, but the reward will be worth it. A life and a home right here where he’s already so happy.
But first, I have to get Daisy’s family on my side.
Daisy leads me up the porch steps and into the house.
The back door opens into the kitchen, which is dated but neat, with well-loved timber countertops and faded shaker-style cabinets.
The floors are wide and worn hardwood planks, and the dining table, long enough to seat at least twelve, is loaded with delicious-smelling food, chipped flatware, and pitchers of water and soda.
Though the room itself is empty, a sense of family lingers like everyone just left the room.
The easy generosity catches me by surprise. Outside of ranch kitchens or a farmhands’ mess hall, I’ve never seen anything like it.
The music and conversation that tickled my ears outside is louder here, drifting into the kitchen from the room beyond. It’s warm and welcoming, and it feels like an invitation meant for someone else.
“Are you okay?” Daisy asks, mouth turned down with concern.
“What do you mean?”
“You just kind of froze for a second there.”
“Oh.” I shake it off. “I’m fine.”
“My brothers are going to love you,” she says, then after a pause, she adds, “Eventually.”
My snort is quiet as she tugs me into the adjoining living room.
It’s got high ceilings and plain walls, and it’s made snug by old-fashioned light fittings and timber-framed windows.
Two old sofas and a low timber coffee table have been pushed to the edges of the room, revealing layers of brightly colored rugs.
Three four-seater card tables are haphazardly arranged in front of a cold fireplace, where a whiteboard is propped up on the mantel.
There’s a carefully drawn chart on it, with names listed in the left column and rows of blank squares beside them.
The room is packed with people. More people than I expected.
There’s Dylan, who I’ve met. Chord, who I recognize because he’s a hockey legend, and a tall brunette who must be his fiancée, judging by the rock on her finger and the way she hangs off his arm.
I figure out who Finn is because of the woman beside him, pop star Rosalie Thorne, who at first glance looks like a regular person in her sundress and with a baby bump.
Izzy’s making introductions, and my nephew gazes up at Rosalie with wide eyes and mouth hanging open.
Can’t blame the kid. I’m a little star-struck myself.
Poppy and Charlie talk together in a corner, and in another, there’s Luke, one of the Silver Leaf farmhands I’ve seen a few times around the ranch.
He’s chatting to a fifty-something woman who looks a lot like Poppy, red hair and all.
It must be her mom, owner of The Slippery Tipple and notorious mixer of Aster Springs’ most potent cocktails.
I knew I’d be jumping into the deep end tonight, but in a crowd like this, I can’t even see the bottom.
Daisy and I step into the room and a hush ripples out. Everyone turns toward us, the energy awkward and uncertain. I stand taller, lift my chin, and refuse to flinch when Chord’s gaze falls on Daisy’s hand clutched in mine, then rises again, and he scowls.
“Hey, everyone,” Daisy chirps like we—like I—didn’t just ruin the party. “We’re here!”
“Yay!” Izzy calls out, oblivious to the tension as she tugs Ollie across the room. “Now we can get started.”
“I’m ready,” Daisy declares, but for all her bravado, her hand stays tight around mine. “What do you have planned for us tonight?”
“It’s a Go Fish tournament,” Izzy announces. “We start with open rounds. Then there are quarter finals, semi-finals, and the final.” She leans in and flaps her hand so Daisy has to bend down to hear her whisper. “There’s a trophy, but it’s supposed to be a surprise.”
Beside her, Ollie grins. His lips are already stained purple from a piece of grape-flavored candy.
“You didn’t waste any time getting into the sugar,” I say.
“It’s Izzy’s favorite,” Ollie replies.
“Well.” I give the little girl a wink. “That explains everything.”
The conversation with the kids is a convenient excuse to keep my head down, and when I look up, I’m not surprised to find everyone watching us.
“Okay, you two.” Izzy takes Daisy’s free hand, and at her imperious wave, Ollie takes mine. “We’ll show you where to sit.”
Daisy and I are dragged apart as Izzy pulls her aunt up to stand near the fireplace and Ollie shoves me toward a table.
“All right, Davenports!” Izzy exclaims. “Let the games begin! If you don’t know where to go, wait for me to show you!”
Thank Christ for seven-year-olds. I’ve avoided the awkward phase of reluctant introductions, and as Daisy throws me a glance that asks are you okay? and my nephew pushes me into a chair on the far side of the room, I nod to reassure her.
Ollie and I are paired with Luke, who dips his chin in greeting, and the redheaded woman I don’t officially know yet, which she remedies straightaway.
“Hey, honey,” she says with an extended hand. “I’m Mona.”
“Daisy’s told me all about you,” I reply. “Nice to meet you. I’m Beau.”
She smiles slyly. “Oh, I already knew that. Everyone’s told me all about you.”
I grunt, then glance at Ollie. He’s distracted, trying to shuffle his deck of cards, but I lower my voice anyway. “Then I might have expected you to be a little less friendly.”
She lifts a brow that’s darker than the hair on her head.
“You’ve got enough enemies tonight, honey.
You don’t need another. Plus, I got the story straight from Poppy, who got it from Daisy, which means my opinion of you might be a little more nuanced than some others.
” She tips her head to the next table. “It’s those boys you got to worry about. ”
I risk a glance around the room. Finn’s glaring daggers at me, but I keep my face neutral as I say to Mona, “I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she says. “But they don’t care about that. All they care about is whether you’re good enough for their little sister.”
“Go fish!” Ollie calls beside me, and Luke laughs as he picks up a card from the pile between them.
More calls of “go fish” rise around us, so I scoop up our deck and start to deal.
Mona fans her hand between her fingers and scans her cards. “Got any sixes?”
“Go fish.”
“You know,” she says, adding a card to her collection, “Daisy’s mom was my best friend.”
“Daisy mentioned that,” I say. “Got any twos?”
She hands over a card. “Losing Jacqui was…” Mona sighs. “It was hard on all the kids, but especially our Daze.”
“I’m beginning to understand that,” I say.
“Jacqui asked me to be there for her kids when she was gone, and I tried, but it wasn’t two years before Daisy’s dad passed away too, and the girls packed their bags and got the hell out of Aster Springs.” Her eyes rise from her cards. “Got any queens?”
I hand her a card, and she sets the pair aside.
“I’m sure you did your best,” I tell her. “Got any sevens?”
“Go fish,” she replies, and then, “I’m sure I didn’t.
I’m sure if I had my time again, knowing then what I know now, I’d have done better.
But life doesn’t always bless us with second chances.
When it does, we got to know how lucky we are.
” She narrows her eyes at me over her hand. “You hear what I’m saying, honey?”
I meet her gaze so she knows I’m taking her advice to heart. “I do.”
“Good. Now, you got any fours?”
I win the game against Mona, and the next couple of rounds of Go Fish pass easily enough that I start to enjoy myself. Mona is pleasant, and Luke is a soft-spoken but solid kind of man. I enjoy his company, and I still beat him at cards.
Ollie can’t keep the grin off his face. He wins against Luke, then loses against Mona, and I let him beat me just to see that smile push his pink cheeks to the max.
Once the wins are tallied on the board, Izzy and Ollie orchestrate a reshuffle. The room is small for so many grown adults to be milling around, and when I’m jostled by a hard shoulder, I ignore it, even knowing it’s no accident.
I’m seated with Violet, Poppy, and Rosalie next, and as I drop into my chair, I can feel Daisy’s eyes on my neck. I start to sweat. Just a little.
“Hello,” Poppy says across from me, exchanging darting looks with the other two women, then one with Daisy over my shoulder. “Ah, have you met Violet?” She gestures toward the tall brunette, then the tiny blonde pop princess next to me. “And Rosie?”
“Hi.” I offer them all my hand, and after they politely shake it, I take a deck of cards and start dealing. “Thanks for inviting me. It means a lot to Ollie. And to Daisy.”
“Ollie is a sweetheart,” Poppy says. “We’re always happy to have him.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” I sort my cards and eye the full hand still in Poppy’s fingers. “Got any fours?”
“So.” Rosie gives me a sideways glance, then concentrates on her cards. “This is kind of uncomfortable, right?”
I release an exhale and smile a little. “Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s my fault. I wanted to set things right with Daisy’s family, but throwing me into the mix tonight was her idea.”
“She’s done you a favor,” Poppy says with an affectionate shake of her head. “Safety in numbers and all that.”
I keep my eyes on my cards, no matter how I’d like to see whose eyes are burning holes into the back of my head. “You’ve got a point. Dylan already warned me off when I got here. Can’t imagine he’s too pleased with how things have turned out. Got any nines?”
“Go fish.” Poppy glances affectionately toward her husband. “Daisy’s brothers can be protective, but they might surprise you. They want her to be happy, and if it helps put your mind at ease, I explained to Dylan that everything wasn’t all your fault.”
My heart skips. “Is that what Daisy told you?”
Rosie rolls her lips to hide a smile. “We talked to her last night. She begged—”
“Bullied?” Violet interrupts with a shy smile.
Poppy snorts, and Rosie laughs. “Right. Bullied us into smoothing things over with the boys. Making them see that things aren’t as black and white as they might think.”
“Okay. Um. Got any jacks?”
Poppy shakes her head. “Go fish.”
I lift a card from the deck and take a minute to think. “And… did you? Explain things?”
The three of them swap looks again. This time, there’s an air of collusion about it as Poppy sets her elbows on the table and leans in.
“Listen, Beau. All we want is for our sister to be happy. None of us want the men we love to beat you to a bloody pulp, but we don’t want you to think it’s an easy thing to repair the damage you did.
So pay attention because we’re only going to say this once.
” She glances at her cards. “Got any sixes?”
I hand one over. “I’m listening.”
“Daisy acts tough, but she’s been through a lot, and we won’t let it happen again. Don’t convince her to trust you again if you’re only going to let her down.”
I deserve the reprimand and I’m going to take it. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life with that woman,” I tell them. “She’s it for me. There’s no way in hell I’ll lose her again.”
“Good.” Poppy nods with satisfaction as she wins the argument—and our game. “Because we won’t be so forgiving if you do.”
We make polite small talk over two more rounds of Go Fish—I win one and lose the other—before Izzy announces another rearrangement of the tables.
Everyone shuffles back and forth, taking orders from our tiny sergeant, until I take a seat at my assigned position and come face to face with the ultimate accountability.
Daisy’s three big brothers.