“That was a great session today, Jess. That last run was flawless. You and Cisco are going to take home the blue together at your next rodeo.”
Heather turned Rain loose in the pasture with Jessie’s gelding and Jinx and pulled the girl against her side in a one-armed hug.
“Thanks, Heather. I should’ve asked Dad and Grandma to beg you to coach me from the start. Ugh. Jen just… doesn’t know how to teach me, I guess. She’s a great barrel racer, but yeah. Something just didn’t click.”
“I may have one up on her from my job. Training horses is as much training the riders as the horse, you know, and if I wasn’t as good at that part of the job as the rest of it…. Well, Ty wouldn’t have made me his partner.”
“I get that. I really do.”
“All right, kiddo. I need to drag Jeremiah out of the shop so we aren’t late for dinner with my family, and you need to head home for dinner, too. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Yep. Bye, Heather.”
“See ya.”
Heather watched the girl walk across the yard to the main house before picking up her tack and hauling it into the barn. She needed to thank the Hammonds again for letting her board her horses here. It was so nice to be able to just show up and have her horse already here and not have to endure her family or argue with them about why she needed her horse for her job when they decided to take her horse without asking.
With her lesson over for the day and everything picked up and stowed, she headed for the shop. In the week since Randall Cochran’s arrest, everything had been quiet, and other than the first couple nights, when Jeremiah had stayed with her at Curtis and Christina’s until the Brown clan had returned from Curtis’s embarrassing final fight, he had continued his stay in the allotment cabin. She didn’t like that, but he was adamant about staying up there, certain more trouble was on its way. Of course, that same gut certainty that this—whatever it was—wasn’t over was exactly why she didn’t want him staying up there alone, but at least he had spent most of his free time down here in the valley working on another portable office. And at least Austin or one of the others checked on him regularly when he was up at the allotment.
As usual, when she walked into the shop, he was so focused screwing the metal roofing sheets in place that he didn’t mark her arrival. Murph did, though, and as soon as she stepped through the shop’s man door, the Australian shepherd scrambled out from under the trailer and raced over to greet her. The days of his shy hesitation were long gone, and she was all too happy to reward his trust with a full-body rub down.
“I hate to interrupt because you look like you’re in the zone up there,” she called up to Jeremiah, “but we’re already cutting it close.”
He glanced up and smiled. “Oh, hey. Is it that time already?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, “it’s that time. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
“We don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know, but Mom invited you to dinner so she and everyone can get to know you. Christina’s been singing your praises since they got home, and I think they’re finally getting the message you’re not just a fling. So maybe it’ll be okay.”
“In other words, you feel obligated to go.”
“That, too.”
He drove the last screw in on the piece of metal roofing he was installing, and then he sat up there, straddling the peak of the roof in a way that couldn’t be remotely comfortable, for almost a minute with his brows drawn deeply together.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go tonight.”
“Why not? We’ve been planning this for five days.”
“I know, it’s just… Randall’s still swearing he didn’t kill the cows, and Aaron believes him, and he’s certain Randall knows who did and is protecting whoever it is, but—”
“He’s protecting Zach, you mean.”
Jeremiah pressed his mouth into a flat line. “Yes.”
“Has the ballistics test come back yet?”
“No. There’s still a backlog and dead cows aren’t a priority, so they probably won’t be able to get to it for a couple more weeks.”
“That’s not what’s bugging you,” she surmised.
He shook his head. “Why hasn’t Zach done anything? What’s he waiting for?”
“Maybe he’s waiting to see if Randall is going to squeal. If he doesn’t… Zach is safe. Right? There’s nothing else connecting him to any of this.”
There was another option, but she didn’t say it because she didn’t believe it and neither did Jeremiah.
Maybe Zach really isn’t behind it all. Maybe this really was no more than a ridiculous coincidence.
“Come on. Dinner with my family is sure to distract you.”
He snorted. “While that’s probably true, if they say something nasty to you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep a handle on myself.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what my family needs—a good old-fashioned, harsh judgment from the guy who spent time behind bars.” She laughed. “Think about it, Jere. They see you as this big-time criminal, and if you have a better sense of common courtesy than they do, maybe they’ll see that, hey, they really are assholes.”
“I doubt it. They’ll probably just think I’m an even bigger one for daring to judge them.”
“You’re probably right. But come on. Let’s just get it over with, and if they create drama, we’ll leave and come back here and work on your office.”
Grudgingly, he gave in, and she suspected hunger had more to do with it than her assurances. She didn’t like the strain on his face, so she slipped her arms around him when he walked past her to put his drill away.
“Hey,” she murmured. “It’ll be okay. One way or another.”
Nodding, he let her go, and she stepped in to help him clean up. The idea of hiding out in the shop with him and working on his latest office was certainly far more appealing than dinner with her family, but she couldn’t ignore her curiosity. Christina’s support of her relationship with Jeremiah was a new figure in the equation, and Curtis may have turned into a self-centered jackass in the last six years who didn’t do nearly enough to help his wife, but he loved her, and Heather hoped he would listen to her.
Jeremiah asked to stop by the bunkhouse so he could at least change and wash his face, and she was tempted to decline. So what if he had a little grime on his face? It would do her family well to be reminded that he routinely worked his ass off.
“Mom’ll care more if we’re late than if you’re a little dirty,” Heather retorted.
“I don’t care. I’ve gotta drop Murph off and feed him, anyhow. It’ll take me two minutes.”
“Fine.”
She volunteered to feed Murphy while he changed and washed his face, and as it turned out, it took him exactly two minutes. Since the plan was to come back to the shop after dinner to work together on his office, they left his truck parked in front of the bunkhouse and took hers.
When she pulled up in front of her parents’ house, she opened her door to get out but hesitated when he didn’t move to do the same. He drummed his thumbs on his thighs and stared through the windshield, clearly agitated. She wished she knew if he was still dwelling on his own troubles or if he was nervous about spending more than a handful of minutes with her entire family. Both, most likely.
“You all right?” she asked.
He nodded, but it was a lie.
“If it’s bugging you that much, I’ll go in and tell Mom we need to reschedule.”
“No, we’re here now.”
Finally, he shoved his door open and climbed out of her truck. He waited for her to join him before heading for the front door of her parents’ house. As she’d expected, since they were a few minutes late, everyone was already gathered around the dining room table except her mother, Brianna and Brock’s wife, Anna, who were in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner. All the kids were still playing out in the yard except, of course, for Curtis and Christina’s newborn baby boy, who was asleep in his mother’s arms. Christina had given him the name of Jeremiah’s brother—Joseph—both as an act of rebellion and as a way of marking her gratitude, but only Heather and Jeremiah knew that. Curtis and the rest of the Brown family would flip their lids if they knew.
Her brothers and father greeted Jeremiah with cool politeness, but Christina welcomed him warmly with a hug that irritated her husband. Heather held her eldest brother’s gaze, silently daring him to say something. He didn’t take the bait, and when she let her eyes drift over the rest of his face, she grimaced. The cuts on his cheek and through his eyebrow, the black eye, and the split lip from his fight were healing well, but they were still blatant reminders of just how thoroughly he’d lost. She’d heard, of course, that the fight had been embarrassingly one-sided and that the ref had stopped it barely halfway through, but the sight of his face when he and the rest of the family had returned home on Sunday had shocked her. It still did.
“Oh, Jeremiah, welcome,” Lily greeted as she brought in a large platter of baked chicken. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for the invitation.”
If his words were a tad clipped and his smile a little forced, no one but Heather noticed.
“We wanted a chance to thank you for assisting Christina while we were away.”
“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Brown. I’m glad Heather and I were here to help.”
Without being asked if the women needed assistance, Jeremiah followed them into the kitchen and started carrying out dishes. Heather’s lip curled at the incongruous mixture of surprise and disdain on her mother’s face, but she hid it by jumping in to help, too.
The kids were called in, Joseph was transferred to the swing, and with the entire family seated at the table, Brian said grace. After that, the clatter of ten adults and six children digging in filled the room. Talk at the table revolved mostly around Curtis’s fight, the new baby, and the ranch, and as the meal dragged on, Heather’s annoyance grew. Aside from the occasional question for Jeremiah about how the Hammonds ran things on the Lazy H, they more or less ignored him, and while he seemed perfectly happy with that, she wondered how her family expected to get to know him better if they didn’t bother to ask him anything about himself.
After everyone finished eating, Heather got up to help Anna and Lily clear the remnants away and prepare dessert—cake and ice cream to celebrate Joseph’s arrival.
“Jeremiah seems very nice,” Anna remarked as she sliced the cake.
“Yes, very polite,” Lily echoed. “But nice and polite only go so far in a relationship.”
The comment instantly set Heather on edge. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I just don’t see this lasting, my darling.”
“Do tell why it won’t, Mother.”
“Don’t get snippy with me. I’m just saying that he’s a ranch hand, and it’s hard work for not a lot of money. How would he support you if he got hurt? Which happens often. There’s a reason there aren’t too many old ranch hands.”
“He doesn’t have to support me, and I don’t expect him to. I have a good job, and if something happened that he couldn’t work, I make more than enough to support us both.”
“And I’m sure that seems like a wonderful notion to you, but he’ll resent you. Men need to feel like men, to provide for their families. How will he feel when he can’t support you and your children?”
“What children? How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any before you get it through your head? Jesus, Mother. You seriously need to update your worldviews.”
Lily let out an exaggerated sigh and started scooping ice cream onto plates with the slices of cake. “I had hoped being present for the birth of your nephew would change your mind, make you see sense.”
“Make me see sense….”
She had no response to that one. All she could do was stare dumbly at her mother.
“Look at how happy Christina and Curtis are to have little Joseph. Don’t you want that for yourself?”
Happy. Right. Christina was so happy that she called Curtis every foul name I’ve ever heard and invented some new ones.
And Curtis? He barely seemed to notice his new son. The joyous novelty of babies that had radiated from him after Sebastian’s birth had long ago faded, and a new baby wasn’t anything special. Been there, done that.
“What do you think, Jeremiah? Would you be happy with a woman who refused to give you children?”
Heather glanced toward the door between the kitchen and dining room, and saw Jeremiah freeze mid step with a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights expression. He recovered quickly, though.
“To be completely honest, I haven’t thought about it much. I’m alive and I have a good job and a beautiful woman I adore, so I already have more than I ever thought I would. If that’s all life has in store for me, it’s more than enough.”
“So you don’t want children?”
He shrugged. “If Heather wanted one or two, I’d be all right with that, but I don’t think she does, and that’s fine, too. I’m sure of one thing, though—your daughter knows her own mind, and trying to force her into your notion of womanhood is a waste of time. Besides, she’s an amazing woman just the way she is, and I wouldn’t change anything about her.”
Heather almost cheered when he spun on his heel and marched out of the kitchen without giving her mother a chance to retort. Lily’s beached-fish impersonation was comical, as were Anna’s downcast eyes and the blush of embarrassment blossoming across her pretty face.
“What can I say?” she said with a shrug. “The man gets me.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” Lily said. “He says that now, but he’ll change his mind.”
Maybe, but she doubted it. Being happy with what he had came too naturally to Jeremiah. Saying he would be content if what he had now was all he would ever have wasn’t just lip service. It was who he was.
And, oh, the relief of that statement! She might’ve accepted that she would be willing to have a kid or two if he wanted them, but to know that it wasn’t some burning desire for him, either, and that he would put her desires first….
No one had ever done that. Not to the extent he did.
It was a heady thing to realize, and it left her a little dizzy.
Taking a few plates, she wandered into the dining room and passed them out. She knew she should go back into the kitchen and help her mother and Anna bring out the rest, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it and instead sank into her chair beside Jeremiah. Absently, he stroked his hand across her back as he answered Christina’s questions about the office he was building. Heather listened passively, but her mind was stuck on the conversation in the kitchen.
Wow.
The melodic clinging of a fork against glass snapped her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Todd standing beside Brianna… and looking far too pleased with himself. Heather shifted her gaze to her sister and noted the matching smugness on Brianna’s face. The delightful, tingling relief fizzled, and a vague premonition of what was coming dragged her back down to earth.
“Since everyone is gathered together tonight—” Todd began.
Not exactly a rarity, Heather mused.
“—we thought it would be a good time to announce….”
He glanced so obviously at his wife that Heather couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“We’re expecting!” Brianna finished.
Jubilant congratulations were offered, but Heather didn’t join in. Neither did Jeremiah, and when she looked at him, his attention was on Christina. Following his gaze to her friend, she was shocked to see Christina regarding Todd and Brianna with unveiled shock and indignation.
Suddenly, anger flared, red hot. What was the point of Brianna and Todd announcing that tonight when the family had gathered to celebrate Joseph’s birth and to get to know Jeremiah? Was it to point out in a new and more insidious way how Heather was failing their family? Or was it Brianna’s way of jealously stealing the spotlight from Christina?
Heather glared at her sister, who was positively wallowing in the attention. Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it? Little bitch.
Some days, she really hated her family.
“Are you and Christina still planning to have another baby after Joseph?” she heard Lily ask Curtis.
“Yes, but I don’t think I want to wait so long this time because I think we might like to have another after that,” Curtis replied. “I think I’d like to start trying again this fall, even.”
Christina slammed her glass down on the table, sloshing water all over.
Absolute silence reigned over the table. Every pair of eyes was trained on Curtis’s wife. No doubt everyone was shocked that the outburst had come from her and not Heather. Christina didn’t have outbursts. She was quiet and polite at all times even when she—apparently, judging by what she’d revealed to Heather last week—wanted to scream.
“I beg your pardon?” she snarled. “I gave birth a week ago and you’re already talking about getting me pregnant again?” She lunged to her feet. “Go to hell.”
“Babe, why are you upset? I thought we agreed—”
“No, you’ve talked about this, Curtis, and you decided by yourself that we’re going to have more kids. But guess what. We aren’t. Because I am done.”
“Babe—”
“No. I… am… done. No more. I didn’t want three kids. I definitely don’t want four, and I sure as hell don’t want five. I am sick and tired of having my life dictated to me, of having almost no help from you in raising the children we already have.” She walked to the front door and grabbed her purse off the coat hook. Turning back to her husband, she spat, “You want more kids, find yourself a new wife.”
Christina slammed the door behind her.
For almost a minute, everyone was too shocked to speak. Curtis stared blankly at his wife’s empty chair. Heather slid her hand under the table, seeking Jeremiah’s hand, and twined her fingers with his. He turned his face to her and forced a smile.
“This is your fault,” Lily said coldly. “Somehow, I know it is.”
It took Heather a moment to comprehend that her mother was talking to her. “Excuse me? How is this my fault?”
Heather opened her mouth to further defend herself, to repeat every heartbreaking and infuriating word Christina had said to her before she’d gone into labor, but she didn’t get the chance.
“Stop,” Jeremiah said in a low voice that demanded obedience. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and the battle to maintain a grip on his temper raged brightly in his eyes. “You will not speak that way to Heather in front of me.”
“I appreciate you wanting to defend Heather, but she is my daughter, and—”
“Yes, she is your daughter. And I shouldn’t have to defend her. Or Christina.”
“Leave my wife out of this,” Curtis said. “She is none of your concern.”
“Actually, she is. You want to know why? Because I was right here in this house when she went into labor with her husband hundreds of miles away.”
Curtis leaned forward in his chair. “Who do you think you are to—”
Jeremiah stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair over in his haste, and braced his hands on the table. Anger vibrated from him, and even a blind man wouldn’t miss his struggle to keep a grip on his temper. He was the smallest man at the table, but the others all leaned back.
“I’m the man who stepped up when you were too busy getting your face pulverized. I’m the man who carried your wife out to Heather’s truck because the contraction was so bad she couldn’t walk and we didn’t have time to wait it out. I’m the man who drove her to the hospital where I held her hand and listened to her cry and curse your name.”
“You had no right to be there with my wife.”
Heather started to rebut that, but again, Jeremiah beat her to it.
“You’re right. It’s not my job to comfort your wife—that’s your job. My job is to make sure Heather has what she needs, and what she needed that night was for me to be there for her friend. Your wife is hurting and exhausted, and you can’t be bothered to see it and to listen to her. You’ll lose her if you don’t start… and you’ll deserve to.” Jeremiah straightened, pulling his head back with a condescending sneer that was entirely incongruous with the kind, tolerant man Heather knew, and turned to Brock. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. A family who says it’s better they hurt their own than let someone else hurt them is seriously screwed up.”
He bent to kiss Heather’s cheek, and the raw fury radiating from him made her shiver.
“I’m sorry, baby girl, but I have to go. I can’t handle this right now.”
She nodded but couldn’t find her voice to tell him she was right behind him.
“Mrs. Brown, thank you for dinner—it was excellent. I wish I could say the same for the company.”
He started for the door, but Brock sprang out of his chair to intercept him.
“Brock, don’t do it,” Curtis warned. “Just let him go.”
“No. I’m not going to let this piece of shit disrespect my family.”
“Your family disrespects itself,” Jeremiah snapped.
He brushed Brock off the first time, but when Brock grabbed his shoulder again, harder, and yanked him around, he landed a lightning-fast punch to Brock’s cheek, and her brother crumpled to the floor, half-dazed. Jeremiah didn’t wait for anyone else to react, and before anyone realized what had just happened, he was out the door and gone.
Again, stunned silence claimed the room. The explosion of self-righteous anger Heather expected didn’t materialize. Instead, Brian laughed.
“The boy can hit, I’ll give him that. Maybe next time you won’t be in such a rush to pick a fight with him, eh, Brock?
Her brother cursed under his breath as he rose clumsily from the floor and returned to his chair.
“Rung your bell a bit, didn’t he. You see, Curtis, if you’d landed a few punches like that, you wouldn’t have lost your match.”
“You’re laughing about this, Brian?” Lily gasped. “He assaulted your son!”
“The man defended himself, Lily. I may not like him, but I can respect that.”
“I cannot believe you, Brian Brown. He—”
“Oh, shut up, Mother!” Heather snapped. “Maybe if you shut your mouth for one damned minute and actually listened to understand instead of listening to lecture, you might see that he is absolutely right. This family is fucked up, and if Christina decides to divorce Curtis’s self-centered, worthless ass, I’ll help her do it. Good night.”
She didn’t give her mother or any of the others a chance to respond. She followed Jeremiah out into the cool, damp evening, slamming the door behind her with a satisfying crack. Typical Brown family dinner—it wasn’t a success unless someone left angry or crying. But at least this time, they’d all heard something they need to hear, and not only from her this time.
* * *
The walk back to the shop from the Browns’ house did little to cool Jeremiah’s temper, and it took every shred of willpower he possessed to resist yanking open the door and hurling it closed behind him. He sat heavily on the back end of the trailer in the doorway, and for several minutes, he stared blankly at the tool bench, conscious only of each aching throb of his hand that perfectly matched the rhythm of the anger pulsing through him.
He let out a wordless bellow, then curled over his knees with his arms wrapped tightly around his head because that seemed to be the only way to hold himself together. His body trembled with the flashfire wrath triggered by Heather’s mother’s insensitive remark, and no matter how he tried to subvert it, it raged on.
What he’d said needed to be said, but he shouldn’t have lost his temper like that. He shouldn’t have hit Brock, and he sure as hell shouldn’t have walked out and left Heather to fend off her family’s cruelty alone. But if he hadn’t left when he had, he was certain it would’ve been far worse.
He didn’t imagine he’d be getting any more invitations to dinner at the Browns’ house, and that was fine by him, but he hated that he’d put Heather in the middle of it all. She already had enough problems of her own with them, and the last thing she needed was him creating more.
He was still curled into that tight ball when the man door of the shop opened. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Heather; he sensed her presence as clearly as he might the warmth of the sun beaming down on him.
“Hey,” she said softly as she joined him.
She squeezed herself in between him and the doorframe, nudging him over to make room for herself without a hint of politeness. At any other time, he might’ve laughed.
“Are you okay?”
He shook his head. No point in trying to lie because it was glaringly obvious that he was not remotely okay.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Saying what they needed to hear or for hitting my brother? Because you shouldn’t be sorry for either. Dad was impressed by that punch.”
She certainly meant that to cheer him up, but it just made him feel even worse. He shouldn’t have lost control like that.
Anger slipped into bleak despair, and he massaged his hand again and flexed his fingers. He couldn’t recall his hand being this sore after he’d punched Aaron all those years ago. Of course, he wasn’t a numb and dumb kid anymore, and maybe thirty-three wasn’t exactly old, but it was old enough to feel the aches and pains more. Plus, he knew how to hit hard now thanks to Henry’s determined lessons.
Heather tucked her arms around him, but he couldn’t reciprocate her affection. “This isn’t you, so stop thinking it is. Everyone has a shorter fuse when they’re stressed, and as far as that goes, you kept a pretty tight rein on yourself.”
“Sure doesn’t feel like it.”
“No, but it definitely looked like it. You walked away. So… thank you.”
He finally uncurled his arms from around his head and winced at the ache in his neck. Hesitantly, he turned his head toward Heather, afraid despite her words that he’d see condemnation in her eyes. “Thank me? For what? I ruined dinner with your family and I punched your brother. Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. He’ll probably have a pretty bruise on his cheek to match Curtis’s, but dammit, Jere, you didn’t ruin dinner. Mom and Curtis did that.” She let out a breath. “Poor Christina.”
“Is she all right? I assume you stopped by your place to check on her before you came here. At least, I hope you did.”
“I did. She was still fuming. For the time being, at least.”
“You should probably go over there and be with her.”
“Ainsley’s over there right now, and they both understand that I need to be here with you for a few minutes to make sure you are okay.”
Dragging his hands over his face, he sat up a little straighter. He wasn’t okay, and he wasn’t going to be until whatever game Zach was playing was over, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to explode anymore. That was something.
Heather rested her head on his shoulder, and he tipped his head against hers and sighed. They sat like that for a long time, without saying a word, and gradually, the simple pleasure of being near her lessened his turbulent emotions until he was almost calm again.
“Better?” she asked.
When he nodded, it was the truth. He even managed a smile for her, and she answered with one of her own.
“There’s my Jeremiah.”
“Your Jeremiah?”
“Mmm-hmm. Mine.”
She was quiet for a while again, and then she sat up. “Where’s Murph?”
“Still at the bunkhouse. I didn’t want to scare him.”
“Ah, Jere…. Don’t let my family do this to you.”
“It’s not just them. It’s not even mostly them—they were just the trigger that set off the bomb.”
“Don’t let Zach do this to you, either. Don’t let anyone do this to you. And, yes, I am fully aware of how much easier it is to say that than it is to do it. I have the scar on my wrist to prove that, remember? Which brings me back to… thank you. For standing up to my family for Christina and me. I told her what you said on her behalf, and she wanted me to tell you it means a lot to her. And you’re right. It’s not right that we needed defending, and I’m sorry it had to be you, but we both appreciate it.”
He nodded, suddenly too tired to form the words to respond. After another minute passed in silence, he found enough energy to speak. “I don’t like losing my temper. That’s not who I am anymore.”
“I know it isn’t, and to quote Aaron, I don’t think it was ever who you are. And maybe one of these days, if we tell you that enough, you’ll finally believe it.”
“I doubt it.”
“Okay, you gotta pull yourself out of this. I can only do this whole sweet and considerate girlfriend thing for so long before the self-pity gets on my nerves.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I—”
A knock on the man door of the shop interrupted whatever Heather was going to add, and Jeremiah looked toward it with a frown. Who would be knocking? Austin and the Hammonds wouldn’t bother—they’d come right in. Maybe it was Christina and Ainsley coming to fetch Heather back to her cabin for a best friends’ conference.
“Who…?” Heather asked.
Their question was answered half a second later when the door opened a fraction and Curtis poked his head inside.
“Ah,” he said. “You are here, Heather. Christina said you were, but, uh….”
“What do you want, Curtis?” Heather asked flatly.
Her brother slipped inside the shop and closed the door behind himself, his expression reminding Jeremiah of his dog’s when he’d first adopted him.
“I need the key to your cabin,” Curtis said gently, eying his sister like he expected her to rip his head off if he spoke any louder.
Speaking of beaten dogs….
“Christina locked the door and won’t let me in,” Curtis added.
“I thought you said she told you I was here.”
“She screamed it through the door.”
“Yeah… I’m not going to help you. You just want a quick resolution so you don’t have to deal with a brand new baby by yourself tonight.”
The man ducked his head sheepishly, and Heather folded her arms across her chest and scowled at her brother.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Curtis. You’re going to go home and take care of your kids and give your wife a night to stew and cool off. And while you’re doing that, you’re going to think long and hard about how much you love her and don’t want to lose her. Then you’re going to come up with at least two dozen ideas for how you can show her. Making dinner and doing the dishes for her tomorrow night would be a great start. There you go. I gave you one idea. That leaves you with only twenty-three more to come up with.”
“You’d really help her divorce me?” Curtis asked uncertainly.
“You bet your ass I would. So I suggest you man up and become the partner you promised her you would be.”
Jeremiah glanced between brother and sister, and pride for Heather swelled in his heart, chasing away his dark thoughts. She was an incredible woman, and he hoped he’d get the chance to spend the rest of his life making sure she knew it.
To his surprise, Curtis nodded and opened the door again.
Heather cleared her throat. “Forgetting something?”
She glanced pointedly between her brother and Jeremiah.
“Heather…” Jeremiah started.
“No,” she said. “You stepped up, and he needs to acknowledge that. This is another way he can show his wife he’s willing to fight to keep her, which leaves him with twenty-two more to figure out.”
The look on Curtis’s face said he’d rather do anything but apologize to Jeremiah and thank him for being a friend to his wife, but grudgingly, he did it.
“Thank you for assisting my wife while I was out of town. And you’re right. I should’ve been there with her.”
“Yes, you should have,” Jeremiah said, in no mood to make it easy on Heather’s brother.
“I have to say I’m rather impressed. It took a lot of guts to stand up to me and my family. And that right hook…. That was pretty incredible. Brock never saw it coming.”
“Thanks,” Jeremiah replied through clenched teeth. The last thing he wanted right now was a reminder of the moment he’d lost control.
“You should’ve hit him at the Fourth of July barbecue. He can get a little full of himself.”
A little? He didn’t say it. “It was tempting, but I didn’t want to risk you or your dad retaliating. Then again… judging by your face, maybe I was wrong to think I couldn’t beat you.”
To his surprise, Curtis laughed. “Yeah, everyone thinks I’m the fighter in the family, but it’s always been Heather. She could’ve taken me any time if she’d ever wanted to. I don’t think even Dad could win against her anymore.”
He tilted his head and regarded Jeremiah with eyes narrowed, and though he left without saying another word, Jeremiah suspected the man had just realized that he’d majorly underestimated his sister’s boyfriend.
“Well, that was interesting,” Heather quipped after her brother was gone. “That’s the first glimpse of my brother—my real brother—I’ve seen in a long time. Maybe there’s a chance for him and Christina after all.”
“He does seem to want to work things out,” Jeremiah agreed. “He had to humble himself to say what he just did and mean it… and I think he did.”
“That was pretty amazing, what you did just now. You could’ve taken the gracious route and told him it was okay, but you didn’t. You didn’t—what’s the word?”
“Validate?”
“Yeah. You didn’t validate him. You forced him to recognize that he’s been a dick.” Heather bumped shoulders with him and grinned. “I love it when this side of you comes out. You’re usually so humble and polite that it’s even more fun to watch you stand your ground.”
Suddenly, she bounced off the trailer and turned to him. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”
“Shouldn’t you head home to be with Christina?”
“In a little bit. Let’s get you firmly back in a happier frame of mind first. Christina will understand.”
He wasn’t in the mood to work on his office, but he appreciated her enthusiasm. And she was probably right. If he muscled through the lingering fog of self-loathing, his love of building would eventually win out. Besides, working with her was always fun. She was a great partner, and he appreciated any excuse to soak up some more of her vibrant spirit.
“So, you finished the roof this afternoon. What’s next?” she asked.
“Siding. You up for helping me with some rough sawn? The guy’s wife wants it stained a dark green.”
“Ooo! That’ll be pretty. Nice contrast with the corrugated roofing.”
“I thought so.”
He set out several pairs of sawhorses and laid out the rough-sawn planks while Heather stirred the stain and located brushes. As they fell into an easy rhythm, the last traces of anger and frustration faded away. Even the doubt that had been festering in his mind all week about whether or not Randall truly had been working for Zach couldn’t withstand the simple enjoyment he took from Heather’s company. Since he apparently couldn’t remember where and when he’d met Randall, there was no point in worrying about it. He couldn’t control what his cousin was or wasn’t doing, but building and selling this office, treasuring this amazing woman who wouldn’t let him wallow in his anxious ponderings, and making a life for himself that he loved and could be proud of…. Those were things he could control, so he’d put his energy into them as best he could.
“It’s really wonderful that you’ve started making these offices,” Heather remarked. “I know you love the ranch and your job here, but this is something special.”
“What do you mean?” he asked absently, mesmerized by the back-and-forth of the brush in his hand and the spread of the deep green stain.
“Well, this is a piece of your dad and your grandparents and your brother, Joe—a natural talent you got from them. When you’re working on your offices, they’re right here with you.”
A genuine smile curved his lips, and it felt good. How many times working on his previous offices had he thought almost exactly that? “Yeah, they are. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if Joe had had more of a chance to learn the business from them before they died, if he’d been able to hold on to it. I probably never would’ve gotten tangled up with Zach. Because, even back then, I loved building. Dad was an engineer, but he had a workshop set up in the garage in Huntington Beach, and he used to let me play with his tools and build things with him.”
“Aw, what a sweet memory. I bet you loved that.”
“Yeah, I did. And after the fire, Joe and I thought we’d eventually take over the construction business from Grandma and Grandpa… but he just didn’t have enough time to learn what he needed to know. He had to sell. And then he got royally screwed in the sale, but we were desperate.”
Even all these years removed, the memory of the day his brother had told him he wasn’t going to be able to hold on to the company their grandparents had spent their lives building was powerful enough to break his heart. He remembered Joe breaking down in tears over it and apologizing that their dream of running it together—with him as the on-the-ground boss and Jeremiah as the brains of the operation since he had a better mind for the logistical end—was gone.
Jeremiah’s brush strokes slowed as those memories played through his mind.
Working for the man who’d bought the company was hard; Kirkley had kept Joe on as his crew foreman but had worked him hard, paid him less than he was worth, and dumped the burden of firing lazy or incompetent employees on him, and Joe had hated that the most. He’d been no bigger a man than Jeremiah was now, and most of the men he worked with didn’t hesitate to remind him of that.
The paintbrush slipped from his hand and he jerked his head upright, staring at Heather with wide eyes as the memory of a cocky giant of a man arguing with Joe on a job site popped clear in his mind. “Son of a bitch!”
“What?” she asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“I know where I met him!”
“Who?”
“Randall Cochran! He worked under Joe for a while after he sold to Dave Kirkley, and Joe had to fire him for coming to work drunk. He was only a couple years older than Joe… but man, he looks so much older now. No wonder I missed it.”
“Alcohol will do that to you, I suppose. So how does that connect him to Zach?”
“Joe fired him right after Zach moved up from California!”
“You’re certain they know each other?”
“No, but I’m certain they’ve met because Zach was at the house when Randall stopped by to cuss my brother out for firing him. We had to call the cops to get him to leave. And guess which cop showed up to escort him out?”
“Rogers?”
“Rogers. I’ll bet they’re both mentioned in the report!”
“If they were, why wouldn’t Aaron have found it?”
“He didn’t know where to look. He’s been focused on more recent records, but that happened twenty years ago. Crap, I’ve gotta tell Aaron.”
“And I should probably head home and spend some time with Christina—see if she’s stopped threatening to have my brother castrated yet. Shall we call it a night?”
“Yeah, I think we should.” He clasped her face and kissed her soundly. “Thank you! Uh, don’t worry about the mess. I’ll get it later.”
He didn’t even bother shutting off the lights on his way out—with the energy pulsing through him, he’d likely come back down to work because there was no way he’d be able to sleep tonight. He kissed Heather again out by their trucks and followed her out to the main road through the valley and all the way to Aspen Creek Road, flashing his lights as he turned right onto the gravel road to Henry’s, Aaron’s, and Nick’s houses. She lifted a hand out the window to wave goodnight, and he could almost hear her laughter.
He skidded to a stop in front of Aaron and Skye’s house and bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Without thinking, he pounded on the door with his right hand and was quickly reminded of the events earlier in the morning. He hoped it was only a bruise.
Skye opened the door. “Jeremiah,” she said. “I thought you’d still be over at the Browns’ or down in the shop.”
“Is Aaron home from work yet? I need to talk to him.”
“He’s in the shower, but come on in. He should be out in a minute. Everything all right?”
“Fine. Good, I think. I have a connection between Zach and Randall, and I’m hoping it’ll help.”
“That’s fantastic. Well? Don’t just stand there. Come in!”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
He followed her inside and sat on the L-shaped couch, declining her offer for something to drink but accepting an ice pack for his hand before she headed back to the bathroom to tell Aaron he was here. Glancing around the open living area, he realized suddenly how quiet it was. Usually, Jessie and Eric and the Hammonds’ elderly black Lab Chance were in the living room, filling it with all the happy sounds of family.
“Where are Jess and Eric? And Chance?” he asked when Skye returned.
“Jess is in her room reading, I believe, and I think Chance is in Eric’s room playing Godzilla to Eric’s Lego city.”
As if on cue, the boy’s laughter rang out down the hall, followed by Chance’s happy barks.
“Typical night in the Hammond household,” Skye sighed happily. “Life is good.”
Jeremiah pictured himself sitting in the living room of some as-of-yet-unknown house or cabin with Heather and Murph, enjoying a quiet evening together. What he wouldn’t give to make that picture a reality not just for now but for always.
“Yes, it is,” Aaron said, arriving in the living room clad only in a pair of sweat pants.
Jeremiah averted his gaze when Skye gave her husband a blatant once-over appraisal and wiggled her brows with a devilish grin.
“What brings you by tonight, Jere? I thought you and Heather had a date with her family. And… why do you have an icepack on your hand?”
He repeated the night’s events without leaving anything out, and Aaron listened with a concerned frown drawing his brows together, and when Jeremiah was finished, the sheriff examined his hand.
“I don’t think anything’s broken, but if it’s still bugging you tomorrow, go get it X-rayed, all right?” Aaron shook his head. “I was afraid the prick would push you over the edge sooner or later. At least you only hit him once.”
“Once was all it took, and I wasn’t going to wait around for him to get back up. Anyhow, that’s not why I came by. I’m all right—I promise. Heather and I worked in the shop for a while, and that helped. A lot.”
“Glad to hear it. So Skye says you figured out a connection between Cochran and Zach?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He described the day Joe had had to fire Randall, how the big man had come to their house in a fluster while Zach was over.
“Rogers is the cop who answered the call?”
Jeremiah nodded.
“For once, I’m glad he was involved. He’ll have filed the report for sure. I’ll look into it tomorrow, and I’ll ask Kirkley for Cochran’s employment records, too. He’ll probably still have them—he’s a greedy son of a bitch and treats his guys like crap, but he’s meticulous.”
“Please, Aaron. Please tell me this will help.”
“I don’t know if it will or not, but it’s something. I know Cochran doesn’t want to get nailed for the cattle, too, and maybe this will prompt him to give up whoever did… Zach or maybe someone else working for him.”
Impulsively, Jeremiah hugged him, feeling far too much like the scared but grateful kid who had jumped at the chance to turn his life around. Aaron seemed to sense it and returned the embrace, slapping him on the back a few times.
“This is what I needed, Jere. Good job.”