CHAPTER 56
Evander
“Mind telling your old dad what the hell I just witnessed back there?”
My father takes a seat in my room’s recliner and smacks his palms on the armrests. He waits for me to say something.
Cal shuts the door.
“Oooh. I may have some insight.” Finn reaches down to the hospital bed and snags the condom, then holds it up between his index and middle finger. “Gentlemen of the jury, please bring your attention to Exhibit A.”
“You all right, bro?” Cal’s leaning against the door, frowning at me.
“I’m fine.”
“All that shit Phoebe said, that’s what happened out there?”
“Pretty much,” I answer Cal.
My dad sighs, leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, then laces his fingers together. “I have a feeling she skipped a few details.”
“She did, and I’ll be skipping them too.”
“As you should.” My dad brings his gaze to mine. I notice an intense exhaustion I’ve never before seen in his expression. I hate to think he’s spent the last few days worrying about my welfare, but it looks like that’s exactly what he’s done.
“Dad, I’m good. No worse for the wear. Truly.”
He gives me a quick nod. “Do you know what’s going on with Gil Travis’s health? I haven’t heard a thing.”
“It’s cancer, and he doesn’t have much time left. The family has kept it to themselves, but that’s why Phoebe moved back last year—to support her mom.”
Dad drops his head and stares at the floor. Those familiar broad shoulders appear worn and weary.
I glance at my brothers. We’re all thinking of Mom, of course. We know Dad is too, because whenever he hears of someone else’s battle, it takes him right back to the worst time of his life.
“This is his last Christmas,” I continue. “And I promised Phoebe that we MacLaines would help make it the best one possible for the Travises.”
Dad’s head snaps up. “You promised her that?”
“I did.”
“What else have you promised her? Are you serious about Phoebe Travis?”
“Serious as it gets.”
“Look at this shit,” Cal mumbles.
“I knew it,” Finn whispers.
“All right,” Dad says. “Then you boys need to tell me what the underlying problem is, because Jake Travis’s response wasn’t friendly, and had nothing to do with Evander saving Phoebe’s life.”
Cal shrugs. “You know how it was back in high school—always fighting over the same scraps.”
“And the same cheerleaders,” Finn adds.
“That’s it?” My dad looks skeptical.
“Well, the Travises pounded the snot out of Declan on the regular,” I offer.
Dad laughs and shakes his head. “That poor kid never could keep his trap shut.”
“Still can’t,” Finn says.
“What else?” Dad asks.
“Nothing that I know of.” Cal looks at Finn.
“Not me.” Finn turns my way.
“Well…”
“Whad’ya do, dumbass?” Finn asks.
“I didn’t do anything. But for some reason, it’s me, in particular, who always manages to bring out the worst in the Travassholes.”
“The who-now?” Dad’s eyebrows arch high on his forehead.
“Turns out the Travises have a term for us, too. They call us the MacLames.”
“How juvenile,” Cal says.
Finn scoffs. “Jasmine could do better than that. Just the other day, she told Declan he was as useful as a juice box missing its straw.”
“You must be so proud,” I say. But I have to admit—that’s a real zinger.
“So nothing else?” Dad stands up. “Nobody has any idea why there’s bad blood between you all?”
Bad blood.
It’s such an old-school term, a Hatfields and McCoys throwback. But it hits the bullseye. And now that I love Phoebe—and I most certainly do love Phoebe—it’s something that must be fixed.
Because my ass isn’t going anywhere. I don’t give a shit what her brothers say or do. I’m with Phoebe now.
Dad’s looking to me for an answer, but I don’t have one. “It’s always just been that way,” I tell him. “It’s almost like we were born to be suspicious of each other.”
“Well, shit.” Dad turns away from us. He saunters over to the window and clasps his hands behind his back. For a long moment, he simply stares out over the snow-buried Town of Sweetbriar and the endless mountains and valleys beyond.
I look to Cal, who shakes his head. I look to Finn, who shrugs.
“Do you intend to marry her?” Dad asks, still turned away.
“Yeah. If she’ll have me.”
I don’t acknowledge the shocked expressions on my brothers’ faces, but I can feel them gawking at me. I’ll deal with their shit later. Right now, there’s something truly bizarre going on with Dad, and I don’t have the faintest idea what it is.
“Then it has to be done,” he says. “It’s time. It’s past time.”
Dad spins around to look at us. I know that expression. It’s the one he gets playing Uno with Jasmine when he’s holding the Wild Draw Four card.
“What has to be done?” Cal asks.
My father bobs his head up and down, his mouth pulled tight. “I’m not proud to admit it, but I think Gil and I set you boys up to be enemies.”
“How so?” Finn asks.
“We were rivals when we were young, just like the ten of you have always been, and for the exact same reason.”
“You’ve lost me,” Cal says.
“Gil and I inherited the disdain from our fathers, just the way you boys inherited it from us.”
“You’ve lost me, too,” I say.
I watch my father return to the recliner. He sits with a deep sigh and his gaze meets mine. “You know that the MacLaines come from colorful frontier stock.”
Uh-oh.
“Colorful” is his catchall word for anyone or anything that’s less-than-wholesome.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
He raises his eyes to the ceiling. “My grandfather, Angus MacLaine, was a real character. He had a bad habit that almost got him killed a few times.”
“And what habit was that?” Cal asks.
“He was prone to cheating at cards.”
This is new information to me. All I’ve ever heard about ole Angus was that he was the first ranching baron of our family. He was the one who turned his grandfather’s post-Civil War era land purchase into a powerhouse.
The other thing we know about Angus is that his wife, Bridget Lynch MacLaine, was a famous frontier doctor who rode horseback through wild country to treat patients. She’s in the history books.
The history books left out the bit about cheating at cards, however.
“So one night at the poker table sometime in 1919, Angus beat Tatum Travis at a hand of five-card draw and won ten thousand acres of Travis land in lieu of cash.”
“Say what?” I ask. “Which acres?”
“Part of the east meadow, out past the family cemetery.”
“That’s some of the most beautiful property we own!” Finn says.
“We do own it, right, Dad?”
“Well, Evander, it says so, right there in the county recorder’s office, and we’ve sure as hell been paying taxes on it for the last hundred-plus years. So I’d have to say yes, we own it.”
“How do you know he cheated?” Cal pushes off from where he’s been leaning against the closed door and sits down on the edge of the bed facing Dad.
“I don’t know for sure, of course. It’s just an old family story.
And allegedly, Tatum Travis was even more of a cheat than Angus, and he spent the rest of his days trying to win the land back.
Never did. Then in the next generation, my father and Gil’s father were at each other’s throats their whole lives. ”
“How come you never told us this? Finn asks.
“I didn’t want the foolishness to continue.”
“It’s likely that Gil never told his boys, either,” Cal says. “If he had, we’d have heard about it a long time ago.”
“You’re probably right,” Dad says.
“And yet, it spilled over into our generation anyway,” I say. “Funny how that works.”
My dad looks at me. “Which brings us right back to the events of today.”
I lock eyes with my dad. “I want to give Gil Travis back his land.”
“I think that’s a fine idea, son. And you should know that Gil is a very old-fashioned man. He’ll expect you to ask for his blessing with Phoebe. And if he’s as ill as you say, you better get your ass in gear.”
I’m stunned. “Thank you, Dad.”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see this coming, son.”
“What?”
“We all saw it coming,” Cal says.
Finn laughs. “Pro tip: Never take pain medication unless you’re in the company of friends and family.”
“Great.” They’re all waiting for me to ask what I said to them under the influence, but I won’t give them the satisfaction. Besides, I already have a pretty good idea.
We spend about a half hour strategizing. I’ll work with the recorder’s office to transfer the deed. And we’ll figure out a way to drop by for a visit at Travis Ranch before Finn’s wedding.
The door to my hospital room flies open and Declan and Special K come running in, breathing hard.
“That was a quick round trip,” Dad says. “Hope you didn’t throw them out the side while you were still in the air.”
“What’d we miss?” Declan asks.
“Nothing,” Cal says.
A huge smile spreads over Finn’s face. “Only that Evander plans on marrying Phoebe. And our great-grandfather was a poker cheat who stole part of Travis Ranch. And Evander’s going to give the land back in the hopes that Phoebe’s dad will see him as a more appropriate husband for his only daughter, which we all know is a bridge too far. ”
“Cool,” Special K says. “Let’s go, Dad, Cal. It’s been three hours since I’ve eaten.”
“You all right here by yourself, son? We’ll be back to get you in the morning if the doctor says it’s okay.”
“Of course.”
“Hey,” Declan says, his brow pulled tight. “We just saw three of the Travassholes on their snowmobiles. Which means the Head ‘Hole is staying here with Phoebe, probably so that you can’t get anywhere near her.”
“Whatever. Let’s not use that nickname anymore, all right? It’s time to move on.”
Dad pats my shoulder as he walks by. “I’m glad you’re home, Evander. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Catch up with you,” Cal tells them, shutting and locking the patient room door and turning to me. “What happened out there?”
I shrug. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He pauses. “I was asking about the blizzard, but okay.”
“The blizzard was wild. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
He nods. “Fair enough. So… let’s talk about Finlay, then. He leaves for his honeymoon the morning after the wedding. Declan, K, and I have already been brainstorming abduction plans.”
“I’m sure the trail to the hot springs is impassable.”
“Oh, we’re planning something much better than what you fuck-knuckles did to me.”
I notice the glint in my oldest brother’s eye. “You want revenge, don’t you?”
“Fuck yeah, I want revenge. And rightly so.” He pokes his finger in my chest. “And if you ever do marry Phoebe, keep in mind that you’re a marked man. What I dream of for you will make my tasing, hogtying, and trunk surfing look like a preschool Easter egg hunt.”
“Roger that.”
Cal leans in and chest bumps me, then pounds my back. “I’m so glad you’re alive. But, bro, put on some clothes, would ya?” He opens the door.
“Hey!” I yell after him. “Bring me something to wear tomorrow. I’d like a pair of charcoal gray corduroys, a black cashmere—”
He turns the corner.
I’ll be wearing these scrubs home, no doubt about it.