Chapter 7 #2
I laugh and tap my neck to his. “To no drama.”
We both drink and I lean back, letting out a deep sigh.
Jimmy takes a glance around the room and back to me. “Things all right with your dad?”
“Yeah, he’s just fighting me at every turn about his restrictions.”
“Can’t blame the man.”
“No, I can’t,” I agree. “I just wish Harper could keep him from getting in trouble. He lies to her, so she thinks she can get work done, and then I find him on the fucking roof of the barn.”
Jimmy laughs. “Sounds like your dad.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sure he misses your mom. He loved her…you know what it’s like…”
I look up, surprised he’s bringing up Emmy Jo. Jimmy, Emmy, and I were close friends, and they even dated in high school for a week or some shit. They both laughed about it because apparently it was all a way to make me angry and finally admit that I was in love with her.
It worked.
Emmy Jo and I started dating that night, and I knew I would marry her.
Even though they never loved each other as anything more than friends, they were family too. He felt her loss as hard as I did.
“Emmy and I didn’t have sixty-three years,” I say before taking a sip.
“Doesn’t mean you don’t understand what it feels like to live in a world without her.”
I nod slowly, draining the rest of the beer. I didn’t expect this topic of conversation, but it’s not hurting like it usually does. There’s a pain in my chest, the one that I think I’ve just come to live with, but it’s not throbbing. It’s just—there.
“Emmy would slap us both for this, you know?”
Jimmy grins. “Nah, I think she’d just be impressed we’re here, having a beer, and you haven’t started a fight.”
I lift my beer. “The night is still young.”
“Great.” Jimmy puts his bottle down, looking around. After a few seconds, he looks back at me. “Try not to fuck my night up.”
“I make no promises.”
He sighs and then drains his beer. “You know, she would be proud of you, Tris.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Emmy.”
God, I thought we were done with this. I don’t want to sit around and talk about Emmy. I want to forget my damn problems and just have a few drinks.
He continues before I can tell him this. “The way you’re raising Sadie, taking care of the ranch, making sure that your dad and your sisters are all thriving. Emmy Jo would’ve wanted all of what you’re doing. Minus the life of crime.”
I could tell him how much I feel like I’m failing, but I don’t.
Some days, it feels like I’m doing great.
Other times I’m so deep in the mud I can’t see straight.
Sadie is growing up way too fast, and I’m trying so hard to do right by her, but it’s hard.
Then I have these idiots trying to say we’re causing trouble on their farm, like I have the damn time.
“You really think we’re doing these things to the Gatlins? Truly?” I ask.
My best friend shrugs with one shoulder.
“I don’t know. Off the record, I don't think you are.
I know your family like I know my own, and I can't see you doing it.
I just can't find anything to exonerate you.
Everything points to your family, even if I don't think it's you guys. You gotta help me out, brother. I need something concrete to show that it’s not your family.”
“There is, because it’s not us. Apparently, next time I go on a trip, I need to buy trail cams to show that it’s not us.”
“Yeah, that would work if it was ever the same place twice.”
“Well, it’s better than nothing.”
Clearly, no one else is capable of figuring out who it is, so I will.
And then I’ll collect on whatever Lark is going to pay up.
It’s as if by just thinking about her, I was able to conjure her. I spot her out on the dance floor, dancing with two other girls, clad in jeans and a backless top that hugs all her curves. Her long brown hair sways back and forth, and the pure joy on her face makes my chest ache.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful she is.
But her smile, the way her eyes are bright, makes me smile myself.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the two men I love the most,” Mary Lou, my sister-in-law, says as she slides up beside me. Thank God, she just snapped me out of staring at Lark.
I get to my feet, pulling her tiny frame into a crushing hug. “You little shit, you didn’t tell me you were back in Infinity Ridge.”
She laughs, pushing out of my arms with a huge grin. Mary Lou has always looked like her sister, but as she’s gotten older, it’s even more pronounced. She could’ve been Emmy Jo’s twin. “I didn’t tell anyone, including my friends, which went over incredibly well.”
“I bet it did.”
Mary Lou shrugs. “What? I live for the surprise.”
Five years ago, Mary Lou got the job of her dreams running a resort in Montana and took off without a backward glance. It’s been a long time since she’s been back in town. “Uh-huh. Are you coming by the ranch tomorrow?”
“Of course. I got a text from my very favorite niece a few days ago saying she was in need of some help…”
Jimmy laughs. “Oh, he’s stepped in some shit if she’s texting you.”
Mary Lou raises her brow at me. “I see, you are the reason she wants her auntie to come help, huh?”
“She’s pissed at me about Cloud.”
“You still won’t let her ride?”
I shake my head. “No. He’s unstable.”
Jimmy snorts. “Like you, then?”
I flip him off. “Shut up, asshole.”
Mary Lou chimes in. “Okay, so if not Cloud, then why not another horse?”
My stomach drops, because this is the same argument everyone has. “She’s not ready for that either.”
More like I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready, even though I know I can’t stop her forever.
If I’m honest, I’m shocked she hasn’t done it behind my back already. Maybe she has and I don’t know, but Sadie isn’t that way. She gets mad, blusters at me, fights about how stupid I am, but she’s never been outwardly defiant.
Our relationship has always been close, and I have to trust that if she was riding any horse behind my back, she wouldn’t be fighting me so hard to allow her to.
“I see,” Mary Lou notes with a smirk. “I’m here now, and I’ll fix your fuckup, Tristan Stone.”
“I’m going to bet that’s not possible.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll at least try. Now you can return my unending generosity and kindness by dancing with me,” Mary Lou informs me.
I look at the dance floor, which Lark has left, and back to her. “It’s a couples dance.”
“As most good country line dances are. Now up you go.” She looks to Jimmy. “You too. Suzanne is over there, and she needs a partner.”
Suzanne was dancing with Lark. I should’ve guessed that they all came together. Lark, Mary Lou, and Suzanne were always close friends. If Mary Lou is back, she’d of course want to come out for drinks and dancing.
“I’m sure there are plenty of men who would dance with you,” I tell her.
“Yes, there are, but I picked you, lucky bastard you are.”
Where Emmy Jo was sweet and timid, her sister is the complete opposite. Mary Lou is wild, unpredictable, and a little bit of a mess, but she has a heart as big as the sky and she doesn’t take no for an answer.
Regardless of my lack of desire to dance, we both know I’m going to cave. I might as well look like a man when doing it.
“One dance,” I tell her.
Her smile grows, as does the ache in my chest. She looks like her sister, all wild blond hair and big doe eyes, and I fucking hate it.
Forcing down the thoughts, I extend my hand and lead her out to the dance floor. Just then the song ends, and the bar shifts into a version of a barn dance.
“No,” I say quickly, hating this fucking dance more than anything.
You form two circles, with men on the inside ring, women on the outside, facing each other.
You take a couple of steps, and then the women’s ring circles to the right, forcing us all to dance with as many people as we can for a three-minute song—if the DJ is nice that night.
Normally they extend it, so the fucking dance never ends.
“Oh, stop being such a baby. It’s a dance. You know everyone here, and there are always more women than men. Suck it up, big brother.”
I’m going to make her pay for this.
She takes both my hands in hers, grinning in her triumph as the song begins. Holding Mary Lou’s hand, I take two steps to the right. Two steps to the left. Then I stop, kick my right ankle, then my left, face to the right, bump hips, and spin her to the next man in line.
Over and over, I go through the steps, politely smiling to the new woman who blushes or bats her lashes at me.
I really do hate Mary Lou right now.
It goes on for much longer than three minutes, and then, standing in front of me, is Lark.
I watch as her eyes register my face and she clears her throat.
My hand is extended, and she places hers in mine.
We move together, neither of us looking at the other.
I can feel others’ gazes, watching to see whether we’ll do anything, but her brothers are here, and it would take next to nothing to start a fight.
So I keep my eyes forward and try not to think about how warm her hand is, how when she moves in to bump my hip, I get a hint of roses from her hair.
How, for the last thirty seconds, having her hand in mine has felt like coming up for air after drowning.
No, I don’t think about that.
I don’t look at her.
But as soon as I spin her and she moves to the next man, I feel her loss, and I fucking hate myself for it.