Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
“And yet, you’d sell it to a stranger?” Charlie’s plea blurted out.
“Naw, Charlie, I’ve been workin’ on a plan to do his punk ass one better but …
” Something guttural cracked in his voice but he cleared it.
“The only two times I’ve seen my cousin lose control, has been when someone he loves is threatened.
You gotta know, Jason bothered him from the beginning.
He talked to me about it. Didn’t want you and Daisy alone.
“Now, about tonight,” Tyler continued, lowering his voice, a rustling sound indicating he was moving away from the precinct noise and shifting through some paper.
“Don’t forget the real problem here. Nothing woulda happened had Jason not hurt you.
You and I got some stuff to talk about once I get Thaddeus outta this mess.
I won’t try to sway you about him. But don’t give up on him if you love him.
He deserves to be happy, and you and Daisy do that.
And off the record?” He paused, his next words a growl.
“I’d have done the same thing if it had been Heart. Wouldn’t have batted an eye.”
She watched Heart twist her ring around her finger, a soft edge to her spunky demeanor that Tyler had clearly put there. Nose stuffy, that Thad had put his record on the line and to hell with the consequences for her, Charlie nodded.
“You’re gonna help him, right?” Charlie chewed her lip, wishing Trouble was here to pluck it free.
“Of course.” Spoken with confidence, his next words dark and determined. “This ain’t New York.”
*
He hung up, leaving her chest cut into pieces.
“He thinks we’re over now,” Charlie whispered, her heart breaking, an insatiable need to tell him she was in his corner.
“Why? Your brain says leave. Your heart says stay. But what does your gut say?” Heart asked softly.
Something buzzed like a text message in the distance as the breeze kicked up, rustling the leaves.
She glanced toward the sound. His shop door? It was open, and a feeble light was glowing.
That was right! He’d come outside to tinker. Had he left his phone out there? She hopped down the steps, across the earth, and sure enough, his phone and his keys lay on his drafting table, next to an incredible architectural rendering and a drafting triangle shoved across the desk.
It couldn’t be the chicken coop, that one was done…
The name Daisy caught her eye.
She pulled it forward and angled it to the light. Her eyes roved over the plans.
It was his … cabin? The name Daisy was written in block caps, for clarity.
Within the parameters of … a plan for an addition?
An extra bedroom and bathroom. Built in bookshelves—he was certain he was going to turn Daisy into a reader; she smiled despite the moment—drawings of a bed and table and play area.
In fine details. Sketches of a horse pattern tiny and intricate on the bedspread.
It wasn’t just an architectural plan. It was an imagined space.
And only a dad who loved his little girl would pour himself into making her dreams come true.
He’d been so excited by the prospect of them becoming a permanent thing, he’d been preparing to construct Daisy a brand-new bedroom with his own two hands, turning his bachelor pad into a family home.
She dropped the boot and rubbed her tear-stung eyes. Heart had, so easily, said he loved her. And this was so hard, because somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with him too.
And suddenly she knew what her gut was telling her to do. She swiped up his keys and phone, clicked off the shop light, and shut the door.
“You asked about my gut?”
Heart was hovering on the porch and looked up at her.
“Will you stay with Daisy, in case she wakes up?”
Heart nodded. “Yeah, but where are you going?”
Charlie smiled as she dashed up the stairs to grab her purse and do as Thad had bid she do.
“Going to file a police report and let them photograph me. He can’t claim defense of a loved one unless they have proof of this.
” She pointed to her bruise, breezed through the door, couldn’t find her keys, and so, took T.R.
’s truck, dumping his phone into her purse.
Pacing the police station hours later, her report filed, and hoping to see Thad, it was late. Ty came out from the secured door leading into the precinct.
“They’re serving Jason right now, thanks to your report, photos of your cheek, and street cam footage.
Battery in the second degree. Criminal, not civil, Charlie.
” He gripped her shoulder and gave her a firm squeeze, a rare grin spreading on his lips, a victorious hunter who’d taken down his prey.
“Wouldn’t you know, Mitchell has recused himself from any further civil complaints in yours and Jason’s custody and divorce.
Your restraining order’ll stand this time.
And tonight, Jason’s going to jail thanks to you. You’re a tough woman, Charlie.
“Furthermore, after Shelly got our motion in to the appeals circuit, Mitchell has mysteriously taken a leave of absence.”
Her eyes widened. “Is … that it, then?”
“Hell naw it ain’t.” The ranch-reared attitude in him surfacing, overriding Mr. Harvard.
“Mitchell put you through years of hell to hide his affair, and he’s gonna face the music for it.
But yes, your days of lookin’ over your shoulder are over.
Between the criminal vandalism of university property and assault of a university employee, and now this? ”
She dared to exhale. Dared to breathe while feeling truly at ease.
“Are they releasing Thad?”
“I hope soon. But you gotta get to Austin for the Homegrown thing, right? You guys no-show and your place is forfeit.”
They’d planned on packing tonight and leaving in the morning. Someone had to get home to make sure they were ready, except, “There’s no band without McClintock.”
Ty nodded. “Yeah, but they just need one member to sign in. He’s certain the band’ll forfeit anyway, even though I keep promising him he’ll be on the road by morning. And he’s convinced it’s over with you. Want me to say anything to him?”
No … she wanted Thad to know, from her, how much he meant to her, that she was going to fight through her fears for him. An idea of how to do it started to percolate.
She shook her head. “Just get him released and on the road, okay?”
“He’ll be there. If I have to cart his ass to Austin myself, I will.” He hitched his chin toward the door. “Go.”
They needed to be through the intake interviews by twelve noon, then outfitted with mics at the stage down-river from Lake Austin for sound checks after lunch.
She hurried into the parking lot—
Her purse buzzed into the quiet night, nature long-since having settled into sleep. She rummaged for the vibration and pulled out … Thad’s phone? A text notification, the screen lighting up with a snippet.
“Homegrown Awards Final Notice: Pay entry fee or forfeit registration by 12:00 p.m. Saturday, August 20th. Problems paying? Contact Zach at…”
There was an entry fee? And he hadn’t paid? Why? She shouldn’t be doing anything to his phone, and yet, was this part of why Thad was convinced they were forfeit? He couldn’t pay the fee? She tapped on the payment link in the message.
The page loaded. Three-hundred dollars…
She actually laughed.
She opened the truck door, jumping in, and rummaging in her purse for her debit card, inputting the numbers into the payment field.
Tapped submit and shook her head, still smiling.
Ah, Trouble. She’d get the last laugh in this game of money cat and mouse.
She returned home—to her cabin on the ridge if only Tyler wasn’t selling the farm—and began packing.
Heart vowed to be back in the morning to take Daisy.
She whirled around the cabin, grabbing instruments, winding cords for the electric guitar, shoving sheet music into her satchel, texting Bo and Jack to coordinate arrival—she’d fill them in on the details once they were together.
Then she snuck up to the loft to rummage through her wardrobe for something that a wallflower …
wouldn’t wear, when on the way back downstairs, a notch on the growth chart up the corner caught her eye.
She slowed.
A growth mark she hadn’t noticed had been added, fresh, among all the old ones, and marked with a little sticker of a daisy.
Her heart warmed. Her damned tears kept pricking at the way this man was pulling them into his fold and giving Daisy a new legacy.
Charlie traced the fresh mark, needing to see him.
She glanced at the fridge, at the pictures. If he couldn’t be here with her right now, photos were the next best thing.
Nestled among Thad’s growing collection of Daisy art, that photograph of him, dressed to the nines, with Daisy on his knee in a fluff of sequins, tulle, and crown, his arm around her waist and hers cinched to his neck.
Right next to it was a strip of photos taken at a photo booth three weeks ago, of two souls who’d sung together and spent the night together, Charlie’s face downturned, smiling.
Thad’s reverent gaze as he stared at her like he was staring at the stars, no longer crammed in his glovebox.
Labeled Fowler Girl.
His little family, all right there for anyone who walked through this door to see.