CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

After hanging up with Brady, Sammie raced up to the house, opened the front door and stopped in the foyer. “Daddy? Are you in here?”

“In the kitchen,” he called. Hurrying in, she found him sitting at the table eating his lunch. “What’s all the ruckus about? Did you win the lottery?”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “Guess who came to see me last night.”

“The tooth fairy,” he grumbled.

“Marshall Reed.” The creases around Lucas’s eyes deepened. “Now you’re not so high-spirited, are you?”

His eyes widened. “What’s he doing coming here and talking to you?” He pushed away his half-full plate.

“Oh, maybe he thought I needed to know that you borrowed money from him and what was at stake if we don’t pay it back. Daddy, why? How could you make a deal with the devil? Is this why you’ve given up?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” He swiped a shaky hand down his cheek and sat back in the chair. “I was in trouble and he made it seem like the easiest route. At the time, I didn’t think I’d have any problem paying him back.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, this has to stop. If we’re going to run this place together then we need to be on the same page.”

He started to open his mouth, then stopped as if he finally heard her. “Running it together?”

“I’m staying, daddy. I’m selling my business and getting this place back where it needs to be. I’ll have enough to pay off Reed while making the necessary renovations, hiring new staff, painting, renovating, everything.” Her mind was running at a new speed.

“I-I don’t understand. What about Chicago?”

“I’m not going back. I can’t leave…” She paused. “I can’t leave Colton, but there are some rules.”

“Now wait a minute here….” He held up a knarled hand.

“With all due respect, you should listen first and respond later.”

His shoulders slumped and he nodded. “Maybe I should.”

“I’m not pushing you out of running this place, only asking that we make important decisions together. We’ll go back to the way things were done years ago, but with a modern twist. Growing cotton, breeding cattle, and I want to do something that I love…have always loved. I want to raise and breed horses.”

After a long second, he nodded. “That’s fine. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Do I have a choice?” There was a sliver of a smile.

 “There’s something else. We need to mend the bridge between us. I guess none of this can happen if you don’t want me here.”

There was a mysterious moisture in his eyes. She’d only seen her dad cry one time and that was when her mother died.

“I’m a grumpy old man who says things and regrets it. Will you forgive me for making you think that I didn’t want you here?” He patted her hand.

“I can forgive you because I love you. But here’s another thing…you must take care of yourself. Go to the doctor as needed. This place needs you. I need you.”

“I guess it’s time I realize that my girl is all grown up and capable of handling things around here just fine. No need for a husband to make that happen either.”

“Well, I don’t need a man to make things happen…but…maybe it’s time I admitted to myself that although I don’t need one, I want one.”

He snickered. “Well, well. It’s about time Weston made things official. He thought I was foolish enough to think he was just coming around here because he liked my company.”

She laughed. “How’d you know it was Wes I was referring to?”

“A dad just knows. I remember when I fell in love with your mother. I was a stubborn fool and almost lost her before I realized where I belonged. Don’t let the second chance run away from you, darlin’. Reach out and grab life.”

She jumped up from her chair and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me for leaving?”

He patted her arm. “Already forgiven. After all, I didn’t make it easy for you to stay.”

 

 

*****

“And you don’t see how I can win this custody issue?” Weston eased back into the chair across from his attorney.

The older man looked above his glasses, his jaw tight. His curly, salt and peppered brows looked stark over the thin frames. “My job is to tell you the truth, Wes. I’ve been your family’s attorney for years and you know I’m always looking out for your best interest, but as I said to you before, the court here in Texas looks favorably upon both parents being involved in a child’s rearing, especially mothers. Children deserve a mother and father when both are wishing to be a part of a child’s life.”

“Even if the mother abandoned the child when she was a baby?”

Marty leaned his hands on the desk. “She’s married now. She has a child on the way and step children. She’ll plead to the judge that she is established as a parent and can give Brie the things that you—” he suddenly stopped. “Just the things that a mother can help a child with.”

“You mean because I’m a man and a girl needs a mother?” Weston shifted angrily. “No one thought any differently when I changed all her diapers. Stayed up with her all night long as we treaded through colic and colds. Teething. Her first words and steps. And the first day she started kindergarten.” His eyes blurred and he blinked back the tears. He’d always been a man who was calm and collected, but when it came to his daughter, he was a weak man and wasn’t too proud to admit it.

“I’m sorry, Wes. I’m only telling you what I’ve learned from other cases, and my experience dealing with custody issues. It’s not fair, but the court wants to look at things from the child’s best interest. Do you know what Brie wants? Have you asked her? Her mother is offering to get to know her first through supervised visitation if necessary. She’s even said she will come to the ranch and visit. There’s leeway here and let’s use it to our advantage.”

“Will the judge do supervised visitation?”

He shrugged, then shook his head slowly. “Probably not if we leave the ball in his court. The mother has never been in trouble. She has a good life. However, we could set something up if she’ll agree. Start with a few weekend visits and build up to longer periods of visitation until Brie has settled—”

“Longer visitation? You mean until I no longer see my daughter? Hell no!”

“I understand your anger, Wes. I do. As a divorced man who only sees his three kids every other weekend and holidays, I know the grief. I’m playing devil’s advocate here so listen to me. This is what a judge will see. You’re a single father who spends seventy-eighty hours a week working two businesses. You don’t have an established nanny and Brie spends a lot of her time being shipped around from her uncles and aunts.” Weston started to speak, but Marty held up a hand. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Brie having a large support system, but she also needs stability at home. Schedules and predictability. The mother is offering to send her to private school. They’ve bought a house just an hour away. Terrific location.”

“Whose side are you on, buddy? And what is wrong with public school? I attended. My brothers did too. Hell, even you did.” Realizing how rough his words were, he sighed. “Sorry. I know you’re only telling me what I need to hear. I do want what’s best for Brie.” He rubbed his hard jaw.

“Brie’s mother is married. She stays at home. She’s offering stability and the opportunity for your daughter to be involved with her siblings. Are you thinking this wouldn’t be best for Brie? Do you ever foresee yourself marrying and giving her a step-mother?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but then Sammie’s beautiful face washed through his mind. “So now I must be married?”

“Have you thought about the personal things a girl goes through? How you’ll speak to her about maturing?”

Really, to answer honestly, Weston had no clue.

Marty blew out a long breath. “Look, I’ll do whatever you want me to do, but this can get expensive. I’ll cut you some slack, but it’s still going to cost you. The mother has hired a three-hundred dollar an hour attorney who is good at what he does. If anything, they’ll make sure they drain you, and your business, dry.”

“That’s my family’s business.”

“And I’ll do my best, but you have to realize that it might not change the outcome.”

Weston stood. “Give me a few days. Okay? I need to speak to Brie before I make any decisions.”

Marty laid his palms on the desk. “Two days, Weston. They’re breathing down my neck.”

Weston left the office feeling that he’d had another one-hundred-pound weight placed on his shoulders. Instead of driving home to an empty house, he drove the opposite direction toward the local bar. He deserved to drown himself in a beer or two. No decision needed to be made tonight. He had to prepare himself to speak to Brie who was clueless about what was going on.

He sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. Although it was still early evening, there were more patrons filling the room. They were having a live band playing later and people always gathered early in anticipation. Weston hadn’t drunk in a long time, but considering that Brie was with Pippa who was taking her to dance class and then for a manicure, he could stay until some of the pain left his bones.

Johnny, the bartender, opened the bottle and set it in front of Weston. “There you are, my buddy. Hope it goes down smoothly.”

Weston nodded and reached for the bottle, bringing it to his mouth only to have it spill on his crotch when he was jostled by someone bumping into him. “Shit! Watch where—”

He turned to find Roman smiling from ear to ear. “I was running an errand and saw your truck parked out front. This ain’t like you.”

“Okay. I’m here. You can be on your way and leave a man to his beer.” He swigged the drink, which tasted pretty damn good. Weston wasn’t in the mood for company.

“Can I grab a soda, Johnny?”

The bartender gave him a thumb’s up and Roman swiveled on the stool to face his brother’s profile. “Whatever the hell is soiling your undies, this won’t help. You know that.”

Weston placed his empty bottle down on the bar with a crack and ordered another. “Thank you for the lecture, but I don’t need it, bro.”

“Well then, go ahead and get wasted, but I’ll stay here with you and drive you home.”

“Go home, bro. Finish your business for the day.”

He patted his brother’s shoulder. “Right now, you need me. We don’t have to talk. We’ll just sit here and listen to sad songs playing from the jukebox, and you’ll drink your beer and I’ll guzzle my soda. Fun times.”

Weston didn’t want to, but he couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Damn. How did we get so old?”

“Speak for yourself. I’m a spring chicken. It’s called being in love, bro. If you decide you want to talk I’m real interested in the news about Sammie Tanner and the fact that she’s back in town. I even heard she’s hanging out with Brie a lot these days.”

“Shit! Isn’t anything private?”

“No. Do I need to remind you of busting Penn’s balls not too long ago about allowing his dick to override his brains? You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

“Touché, but this ain’t all about Sammie. I just came back from Marty’s office. He tells me I don’t have much of a fight when it comes to keeping Brie from visiting her mother.”

“Fuck, man. That stinks. But you know we all have your back. We’ll all fight to keep her close to home if that’s what it takes.”

“It’ll cost money and I can’t take down SCS or the ranch.” He took a long drink, wishing it’d ease the tension in his gut.

“We’ll all put our money together. Hell, Hugh has a nest egg that he can come off.”

“I know you would and that means a lot, but it won’t change the outcome I’m afraid.”

“Shit. What does Brie say about this?”

Weston hesitated, then shrugged. “I haven’t told her. I wanted to wait as long as possible.”

Roman almost spewed his drink across the bar. “You haven’t told her? There’s a time for everything and I’d say you have no choice. Maybe she wants to see her mom. Have you thought about that?”

He nodded. “Many times.”

“So, you said that the need to get drunk isn’t all because of our pretty neighbor, so I’m assuming that a little bit is because of her. What’s up? Or is it obvious what’s up?” He laughed.

Weston’s shoulders slumped. “Complicated.”

Roman nodded. “When it comes to women, when isn’t it?”

He picked up his beer and finished half in one long gulp, then slammed it down on the bar. “Mind your business and let me handle my problems.”

“And you’re my brother, so it sort of is my business. You’re the leader of the Jericho clan, bro. You have issues, we all have issues.” He took a sip from his glass. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not here to throw back nutrition, Ro.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” He waved at Johnny and Weston didn’t even bother listening to what Roman ordered.

“Pippa has made you a softie.” Weston snorted.

“Soft is the last thing my wife has made me. Anyway, turnabout is fair play. You’ve been a rock on more than one occasion. At the time, I hated your lectures and now I’m grateful.”

“Can’t I just sit here and drown myself in my beer?” he asked gruffly.

“You go right ahead. I’ll hold your hair for you when you vomit.” Roman smiled dramatically.

“Shithead. I’m not a lightweight.” He swiveled on his stool and looked out over the thin crowd. Rena was standing by the jukebox wearing a pair of tight jeans and a wiggle that could cause a man to drop. Why wasn’t he feeling a stirring? A stretching of his zipper? He just wasn’t   interested.

“I’m not sure why you and she didn’t hook up?” Roman used his glass to point at her.

“No, thank you.”

“That’s because someone’s got a hold of your dick, and your heart.”

 “I’m not too proud to admit that I can’t get over Sammie.” Damn. The alcohol was making him loose-lipped.

His brother laughed and took a drink from his glass. “Hell, we all knew that. She’s home, bro. What keeps you from grabbing a second chance? I’ve never pegged you as a pussy.”

Hooking his boot on the stool, Weston leaned against the edge of the bar. “She ain’t planning to stay in Colton. I thought after what we shared things would change, but she left me a note that changed the direction of my thoughts.”

“Yeah? What’s the note say?”

Reaching into his pocket, he just happened to have the note with him. When he got back to his place last night, he hadn’t stopped to search to see if she’d left a note, he’d just gone upstairs to an empty bed. This morning, as he was leaving to take Brie to school, she had found it on the table. Good thing she couldn’t read big words yet.

Johnny placed a pepperoni pizza between the two cowboys. Without thinking, Weston grabbed a sliced and chomped down, hungrier than he thought he was.

Roman unfolded the crumpled paper and read…

“Weston, I’ m sorry that I’ve made your situation more complicated. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t. I made a mistake. You’ll probably never want to see me again and I can understand why. Neither of us want messy.”

 

“Okay. What did she do that could make things more complicated?” Roman asked, dropping the paper on the bar.

“She slept with me,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, sex always complicates things, but there seems to be more involved here by her words.”

“I think she means that she’s still planning to go back to Chicago. When it rains it pours and I wish I didn’t give a shit.” He grabbed the paper and started to fold it back up, but instead crumpled it in his palm and tossed it into the trash can just on the other side of the bar. It was best he didn’t have it in his pocket to read again.

“Does she know you’re still in love with her?”

“Pfft. I didn’t say I was still in love with her.”

“You don’t need to, bro. It’s obvious as the nose in the center of your face. When Urban told me she came back, I thought you’d enjoy yourself a few times, get it out of your blood and move on, but seeing you now, I know I was wrong. Pippa was right. She always is.”

“Pippa? What does she say, considering y’all know all of my business?”

“She said there’s someone from your past who has tattooed her name on your heart.” Yup. That’s the truth.”

“You two can keep your relationship advice to yourselves.”

Roman held up his hands in defense mode. “Sure. Whatever you say. Looks like you got this covered on your own.”

“I’m going to go take a piss, mommy. You need to come also and make sure everything comes out okay?” he growled, realizing the alcohol only made his mood worse. This was a damn bad idea. Old enough to know better, but still stupid enough to make the mistake.

“Just don’t piss on your jeans, bro.” Roman laughed.

Weston flipped him off and headed toward the bathroom in the back of the bar.