Chapter 38
Chapter thirty-eight
Wonderin’ Bout the Wind
Maverick
“Maverick, honey. You sure about this? This ain’t like bringin’ in some stray animal.”
Annoyance bristled in my chest. “Aunt Violet,” I warned. I noticed movement in the corner of my eye. Looking up, I caught a glimpse of blonde curls disappearing through the front door.
Shit.
I wondered if Cheyenne going out had been a coincidence or because she’d heard Aunt Violet.
She wasn’t the quietest person. An overwhelming urge to go check in on Cheyenne rippled through my entire being.
I was half tempted to turn off the water and leave the dishes in the sink so I could go to her.
“What?” Aunt Violet asked defensively. “I’m just concerned. What you’re doin’ is admirable…but I just…I’m worried for you.”
I kept my gaze on the plate I washed and said, “you don’t gotta.”
“Maverick.” Her tone held a pleading note to it that sparked both anger and guilt in me.
They never worried about Cash, and we all knew he could use someone caring a bit more about the reckless decisions he made.
Even still, I felt sick to my stomach knowing I worried her.
But my temper won out in the end. I rinsed the plate and let it clatter onto the countertop.
Rage bubbled within me, like boiling water in a pot.
Silence settled through the house like a shroud, making me painfully aware of everyone’s attention.
I met Aunt Violet’s stare as I said, “I’m the one who urged her to keep it, okay? This was largely my idea.”
“I know.” Her gaze turned sad. “That’s why I’m concerned.”
“What’re you sayin’?” I fought to keep my voice calm as rage pummeled into me like waves on the shoreline.
Aunt Violet’s eyes begged for me to see reason. “You’ve clothed her, fed her, housed her. Now, you’re gonna raise her baby? What if she leaves? You’ll have no right to it. No claim to that child.”
Her words stung—cutting deep and twisting like a dagger straight to the heart. I narrowed my gaze on her, the muscle in my jaw clenching. “It ain’t gonna happen.”
“Maverick—” Aunt Violet began.
“Leave it alone, Violet.” Bad’s voice held a warning note to it. He rarely used that tone—least of all with her—but when he did, you knew you were verging into hot water.
I met my uncle’s stare for a long moment, but didn’t find anger or worry or judgment shining in it like with Aunt Violet’s. No, in the light depths, understanding flickered like a soft, warm fire.
Aunt Violet’s voice drew my gaze. “Clint, stay out of this.”
I nearly rocked back at the challenge in her voice. She never fought with Bad in front of us. Behind closed doors, yes. I’d heard the fights. But in public, they usually appeared as a unified front, for the most part.
Aunt Violet met my stare once more. “Look, I try not to get involved in you boys’ affairs—”
Bad huffed, another warning in his gravelly tone. “So, don’t.”
She ignored him, continuing on as if he said nothing.
“I like Cheyenne. I really do. She’s funny, kind, beautiful.
” Aunt Violet’s shoulder rose and fell in a guilty shrug.
“But that girl’s as wild as the wind. She may be smooth and steady right now, but she may be gone in the next minute, leavin’ you in a cloud of dust.”
I gritted my teeth as I clenched my fists at my sides, my fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of my palms. “I know.”
“Do you?” She pegged me with a sad, yet stern stare. “Are you prepared for that very likely possibility, Maverick?”
Her words broke open the dam holding back the fears I fought so hard to keep at bay every day. They roared to the surface, breaking through the cracked infrastructure.
Of course, I knew how fragile this situation was. Of course, I knew that I could wake up one day and she’d be gone without a trace. All I could do now was hope and pray that she had enough reason to stay.
That I could be enough reason to stay.
Drawing on every ounce of dwindling calm I possessed, I sucked in a breath.
Returning my aunt’s stare, I made sure my voice, my words didn’t hold a shred of doubt.
“I understand your fears, Aunt Violet…and I know you’re just tryin’ to look out for me.
But this is my life, my choice. I love her and that baby, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make them happy. I need you to respect my decision.”
We stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Everyone in the room looked at us to see who would break first. Aunt Violet may be strong and stubborn and fierce like the waves, but I was the cliff she crashed against—unmovable. There was no way in hell I’d break first.
She breathed deeply, her gaze softening as a chink formed in her protective armor. With a sigh, she opened her arms to me and pulled me into a hug. “My sweet boy,” she murmured as she held me.
Most of my anger melted away as I hugged her back.
She pulled away and cupped one of my cheeks as she looked up at me. With a sad smile, she whispered, “I hope she deserves you.”
But Aunt Violet had it all wrong. It wasn’t about who deserved the other more. This was a team, a partnership. We were only as strong as the other. Cheyenne and I might not have been together long, but we worked well together. We played to each other’s strengths. We made each other better.