Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
The Ranch
“You could’ve warned me,” I said as I closed the den doors to give us privacy.
“I like the element of surprise,” Grampy said as he took a seat on the sofa.
“You want a drink?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “The scotch.”
I nodded and went to the bar cart and poured him three fingers of scotch.
“Where are you staying?” I asked as I closed the decanter and brought him the crystal glass.
“No idea. I just got on the first flight I could find and here I am.”
“Here you are,” I murmured, sitting down next to him.
He took a sip of scotch. “That woman has good taste.”
“You looked like you wanted to wring her neck,” I said in amusement.
He didn’t smile. “You and I have a lot to talk about. I’ve been traveling for the past sixteen hours and unfortunately for you I’ve been using that time to stew. So, you talk, and I’ll listen.”
“You promise?” I asked.
“I promise,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to move to Huckleberry Hill and open a bookstore?”
“Because I wasn’t sure that I did,” I said. “I came here and things started happening so fast. Salem and Hadley were quite vocal about me staying forever. And then Lucy rented me the apartment over her vacant storefront, and it just sorta . . . came about.”
“Lucy?”
“She owns General Merc,” I explained. “She and Muddy are good friends. And they . . . well, Muddy knew, I guess.”
“Knew what?”
“She nudges people in certain directions. I don’t know how she does it, but she always seems to know what people need before they need it. And she knows things before you do, too.”
He was silent, and I noticed his hands wrapped around the crystal glass. They were gnarled with age, but he was still strong, and his mind was as sharp as ever.
“So, you’re pregnant,” he stated.
I winced and felt my cheeks heat. “Yes. Muddy told me I was and then the hospital confirmed it . . .”
“Muddy again,” he muttered as he took a sip of his scotch.
“Please, don’t be upset. You’re on sabbatical this semester, but you’d always planned to go back to teaching. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving New York and being so far away from you, permanently. So, I . . .”
“Decided not to face it,” he finished.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “And then I met Brooks and we . . . It was fast. It’s all been so fast. He was just another reason to stay.”
“Not the reason, right?”
I shook my head. “I decided to open the bookstore before Brooks and I were even . . . together.”
“Together,” he said, gesturing to my ring finger. “Bullets have left guns slower.”
“When you know, you know,” I said softly.
He sighed. “Can’t fault you for that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“You should’ve asked me for the money for the bookstore. I would’ve given it to you. You know that.”
“That’s your retirement,” I said. “I’m not taking your retirement.”
He arched a brow. “Sweet pea, I’ve been investing since I got out of the navy. Money, I’ve got.”
“I don’t need it.”
“I don’t like the idea of you taking money from someone else.” He paused. “Brooks didn’t offer you the money? Does he even have the money?”
“He has the money,” I assured him. “And of course he offered.”
“Why didn’t you take it from him? You’re marrying him, aren’t you?”
“It felt wrong to take it from him,” I explained. “I didn’t want him to think . . .”
“What?”
“That I was with him for the money.”
Grampy let out a booming laugh.
“What? Why’s that so funny?”
“There are plenty of men with money who aren’t ex-cons.”
“How did you know he’s an ex—”
“I did some recon on him after I got off the phone with him.”
I flinched. “Is your past spotless?”
“It’s not the same. I never went to prison.”
“You’ve been to war,” I pointed out. “That’s kind of a gray area, don’t you think?”
“You think I want my granddaughter with a hardened criminal?” he demanded, bypassing what I’d said about his past.
“You don’t even know why he went to prison,” I said.
“And you do? Okay then, tell me.”
“No. He’ll tell you,” I insisted. “It’s his story. But there’s so much more to Brooks than him being an ex-con. I hate that term, anyway. Because when I look at him, I don’t see that.”
“What do you see?” he asked.
“I see a man who loves me. A man who takes care of me. A man who loves me the way I need to be loved.”
He grunted.
I smiled.
“How did you meet this guy anyway?” He took another drink.
When I was finished telling the story, he leaned back against the couch. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Slowly,” I teased. “So, I’m feeding you information in dribbles.”
“Bring your fiancé in here so he and I can have a drink and get some stuff straight between us.”
I stood up. “I’ll bring him in here. But he doesn’t drink.”
“No? He’s an ex-con alcoholic?” he pressed.
“No. And that’s part of his story too.”
I left the two men I loved most in this world in the den to talk.
The entire Powell clan was sitting around the fire circle outside, and I went to join them.
“Your grandfather is a total badass,” Cas said to me as I took a seat. “You realize that, right?”
“What do you mean?” Salem asked.
“His tattoos are from when he was on a UDT team in the navy. They’re the original frogmen,” Cas explained.
“Heh?” Salem said.
“The guys you know as Navy SEALs literally evolved from the stuff Poet’s grandfather did in Vietnam. That guy can kill you with his bare hands, or if you really piss him off, he can just go into your kitchen and make a bomb from the stuff underneath your sink and blow your house up.”
“You guys made him sound like Mr. Rogers,” Declan said.
“Well, what was I supposed to say?” I asked.
“I dunno, maybe like, my grandfather is a fucking living legend.” Declan laughed. “The more you know.”
I looked at Muddy. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked.
“For him charging in here, for one. For him fighting with you. For all of it.”
“He didn’t charge in here,” Mr. Powell said. “Though that’s exactly what I was expecting.”
“Yeah, you kind of made it seem like Grampy was going to come in here all shotgun-blazing,” Hadley said. Then she looked at her father. “Oh wait, that’s more your style.”
Salem addressed Jane. “For your sake, I hope you have a boy.”
Mr. Powell settled his hand on Jane’s belly. “Boy or girl, I’ll still be a shotgun-wielding dad.”
I stared up at the night sky. It was cool and the scent of autumn was in the air.
“Is he okay?” Hadley asked. “I mean, are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said. “It’s a lot. I’ve barely had time to process it. How can I expect him to process it?”
“Where’s he staying?” Muddy asked.
“He hasn’t booked a hotel yet,” I said. “You think The Regal Beagle has a room available?”
“He can stay here,” Muddy said.
I raised my brows. “You’d let him stay here?”
“Of course,” she said with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he yelled at you?” I asked.
“He didn’t yell. He spoke with authority. I spoke back.” She shrugged. “And it’s only out of love for you that both of us got heated at all.”
I fell silent.
The back door slid open, and Brooks appeared on the deck. “Poet?”
I left the fire circle and went to him.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me inside and closed the sliding door. “Your grandfather wants to talk to you.”
“More?” I asked in exhaustion. “There’s more?”
“He has some questions about the wedding,” he whispered. “I thought you might want to take that one.”
“He asked about the wedding date? That’s an improvement.” I sighed. “You guys didn’t talk for very long.”
“Neither of us minced words. He asked about my time in prison, and I told him.” He paused. “All of it.”
“You did?” I asked in quiet surprise. “Your road name, too?”
“Yep.”
“Bold move.”
“Your grandfather’s no ordinary man, Freckles. He’s been to war. He’s seen things. Done . . . things. So I knew I could level with him.”
“And then what happened?” I prodded.
“He stared at me for a long moment and then asked about a wedding date.”
Tension inside of me began to unfurl. I inhaled a deep breath and followed Brooks into the den. Brooks sat at one end of the couch; my grandfather on the other. I took the spot right next to Brooks and leaned into him.
My grandfather’s eyes tracked me, but he said nothing.
“So, you want to know about the wedding,” I said.
“Yes.”
“We were thinking spring,” I said.
Grampy said nothing, but his eyes bored pinholes into me.
“Spring, so Hadley and Salem can imbibe and have fun. And it’ll give Wyn enough time to work out her schedule,” I explained.
Grampy still said nothing.
I squirmed in my seat.
Brooks brushed a kiss to my forehead. “Wyn’s back here the week before Christmas and Hadley’s due date is Christmas Day. I think we can squeeze in a wedding before she gives birth.”
I shot Brooks a glare. He kept his gaze trained on Grampy but gave me a comforting squeeze.
Grampy’s mouth curved into a smile. “December’s good. December’s real good.”