Chapter 12 #2
She turned to him, finding strength in his steady gaze.
He was tall and solid and sexier than any man had a right to be.
She wanted to melt into his arms and just stay there, but they weren’t alone.
"Yeah. Actually, I am. For the first time since this all started, I feel like we're finally fighting back instead of just reacting. "
"We're all in this with you," Joe said. "Whatever happens."
Kenny nodded in agreement, and Heather felt tears prick at her eyes. Here, in this beautiful ranch house with these incredible people, she finally understood what real strength looked like.
It wasn't about facing everything alone. It was about having the courage to let others help carry the load.
"Thank you," she whispered. "All of you."
Lyle pressed a kiss to her temple. "Always, Firefly. Always."
Before Heather could respond, another car pulled into the driveway, this one a fancy Corvette.
“Looks like you’ll need to set another place for supper, Mike,” Lyle commented. “Gramps is here.”
The older man headed toward the back door, scooping Charlotte into his arms on the way. The little girl was chattering a mile a minute as Pudge trailed behind.
“She’s really starting to act like a happy-go-lucky six-year-old,” Heather said. “You guys are doing a great job with her.”
“You’ve had a lot to do with that,” Lyle said, his gaze tender as he brushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
They straightened away from the window as Quentin Watkins came through the back door. The man was tall and thick and filled the room, not just with his stature, but with his personality.
“Heard tell there was some goings on out here other than dude ranching.” He set Charlotte down and she immediately scooped up Pudge, sitting down at the table with the cat.
“Hey, Grandpa,” Mike said, clapping the older man on the back. “You’re just in time for supper.” He gave Charlotte a raised-brow look and she reluctantly got up to put the cat away and wash her hands.
“Durn right I am. I’ve always got great timing.”
Joe laughed. “Too bad you don’t have a care for the shocks on that Vette. Your pickup in the shop or something?” He, too gave his grandfather a brief, masculine hug.
“Naw. Felt like having a little ride through the country with the top down.”
“Well, it’s a good evening for it,” Lyle agreed, next in line to greet Quentin with a one-arm hug.
Kenny gave an affectionate nod in his grandfather’s direction. “Grampa,” he acknowledged.
“And, how are you doing, missy?” Quentin asked, turning to Heather.
“Stirring things up, I’m afraid.”
“So I heard. Nothing we can’t handle. What’s for supper, Mike?”
“Roasted chicken. Although it’s probably cooked to rubber by now.”
“That’s my fault,” Heather said. “Sorry about that.”
“No need for apologies,” Quentin said. “The day Mike serves a meal that resembles rubber will probably be the day after the good Lord calls us home.”
For a bare instant, the Watkins men were silent, each thinking that the Good Lord had indeed called their parents home. And Charlotte’s parents.
Lyle might have had a rocky relationship with his father, but he’d give anything to have one more meal with him. Rubbery or not.
Quentin recovered quick enough. “Let’s sit and eat and catch up.” Chairs scraped against the wood floor and dishes clattered as they all settled around the table. “Anybody want to fill me in on the latest?”
Lyle’s brows rose. “Just how up to date are you?”
“Probably up until the visit from the folks I passed on my way in.”
Lyle looked at Joe and he shrugged. Quentin made a point of talking to his grandsons daily.
Lyle realized Joe would have been conversing with him.
Because if Joe didn’t have a contact, Quentin surely would.
Old family money and oil investments had created a wealthy, far-reaching dynasty in the Watkins family, with Quentin at the helm.
They spent a few moments going over the highlights of the FBI visit, then wrapped it up as Charlotte came back to the table, no sign of the cat this time.
“Tell me what you need from me,” Quentin said, looking from Heather to Lyle.
“We’re in a little bit of a waiting pattern right now,” Lyle said.
Quentin nodded, his shrewd gaze volleying between Lyle and Heather. “Well, you know I’m a phone call away.” He dug into his chicken, which was as tender and delicious as if it had been prepared by a five-star Michelin chef.
“Thanks Grampa.” Lyle passed a bowl of potatoes to Heather who was helping Charlotte cut her chicken. “You doing all right? Keeping busy?”
“Yep. You know me. Don’t let no grass grow under my feet. Could do with a little more communication from a couple of my grandsons, though. About the only one who takes the time for me is Joe and your sister.”
“Now that’s not true,” Mike interjected.
Quentin laughed. “Just making sure you’re all on your toes. Heard from Dora today, though. She FaceTimed me so I could see those cute great-grandbabies.”
“How are they?” Lyle asked.
Heather glanced at him, wondering if that was a touch of wistfulness she heard in his voice.
“Doing great. Katie’s about to start some sort of homeschooling type preschool and Ryan’s walking and getting into everything. Kids are keeping Dora and Ethan mighty busy. Dora said Ozzie’s got some matchmaking scheme going with your replacement vet.”
For Heather’s benefit, Lyle turned to her. “Ozzie Peyton is the one I told you about who’s determined to marry off all the single guys in Shotgun Ridge.”
Quentin laughed. “Doing a pretty good job so far. Your sister’s happy enough. Thought I might fire up the jet and take a run out there sometime soon. Have a visit.” He took a sip of his iced sweet tea and looked at Lyle. “Any of you feel like hitching a ride with me?”
Heather watched Lyle closely. She knew he missed his sister and the friends he’d made in Shotgun Ridge. And she knew if it hadn’t been for Charlotte, and the promise he’d made to Jeff and Sherry, he’d still be there today.
Lyle shook his head. “Until this thing with Heather gets cleared up, I’ll be sticking close to home. Maybe we’ll reassess a little later. I do have some loose ends to tie up.”
“Good enough. I’m always looking for an excuse to get that jet in the air.”
Later that evening, after Charlotte had been tucked into bed with Pudge curled at her feet, Heather found herself on the back porch with Lyle.
The night was clear, stars scattered across the Texas sky like diamonds on black velvet.
The gentle sound of crickets and the occasional distant lowing of cattle created a peaceful backdrop that almost made her forget the day's tense revelations.
"You're awfully quiet," Lyle said, his shoulder brushing against hers as they leaned on the porch railing.
"Just thinking." She turned to face him, moonlight casting shadows across his features. "Are you sure about all this? Getting involved in my mess... it could be dangerous."
"Heather." His voice was soft but firm as he reached for her hand. "I was sure the moment you came barreling into my barn with that bee-stung puppy. Maybe even before that."
She couldn't help but smile at the memory. "That seems like forever ago."
"A lot's happened since then."
"Yes." She glanced through the window where she could see Joe once again working at his laptop. Kenny was cleaning his service weapon at the kitchen table, and Mike was putting away the last of the dishes. "Your family is amazing, you know that?"
"Yeah,” he said, smiling. “They’ll do.”
The genuine words settled around them, but a nagging worry surfaced, a worry she’d been able to ignore for a while but had jumped right back to the forefront at dinner tonight. "What about Montana? Do you still have one foot out the door?"
Lyle was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "I've been thinking about that. A lot, actually."
"And?"
"Maybe I was looking for something out there that I already had right here.
" He turned to face her fully. "I was running, I think.
From expectations, both perceived and real, from putting down roots.
But watching you these past weeks, how you've built something here, how you've faced your fears head-on, it's made me realize something. "
"What's that?"
"That sometimes the bravest thing isn't running away. It's staying. Fighting for what matters." His free hand came up to cup her cheek. "And you matter, Firefly. You and Charlotte, my brothers, this town. It all matters."
Heather felt tears threatening again. "What about your practice in Shotgun Ridge?"
"I don’t know yet. I could sell it. Or maybe I'll keep a stake in it, consult sometimes. Right now we need to tackle one thing at a time. And first on that list is making sure you’re safe.”
A sharp bark from inside caught their attention. Through the window, they could see Holly standing alert, her ears pricked forward as she stared into the darkness beyond the porch.
Lyle tensed, his hand automatically reaching for the weapon at his hip. But before either of them could move, Kenny appeared in the doorway.
"Just a coyote," he said quietly. "Saw it on the thermal scope. But maybe we should call it a night and not be standing outside like a target."
Heather nodded, suddenly exhausted. The emotional weight of the day, coupled with Lyle's declaration that she mattered, left her feeling raw and vulnerable, but in the best possible way. Despite the punch of fear Kenny’s warning gave her.
As they headed inside, Lyle caught her hand again. "We'll figure this all out," he promised. "Together."
And standing there in the warm light of the kitchen, surrounded by people who had become more than just allies, Heather believed him.