I was up in my room laying down when Drew found me.

“There you are.” He crossed to the bed, sat on the edge of it, and pulled me into a big bear hug. Then, he cussed. He cussed and he cussed, and he did this for a long time. He also mentioned my father’s name more than a few times.

Darrell Winston had left approximately two hours ago. I was the first one in the house, and I made a beeline for my room. I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I needed some quiet time with my thoughts. I wasn’t hiding so much as trying to get my head on straight.

But I was also hiding. I didn’t want to face my brothers after claiming Drew as my man. Heck, I didn’t want to face Drew either.

I thought about Momma and the upcoming funeral.

Over the past forty days, I think I grieved for her every hour. In a way, I grieved for her before she died. And now that she was gone, I grieved for her still. Part of me wondered, however, if the grief would have been sharper, more debilitating, if I hadn’t been given the month to say goodbye.

I thought about her sickness and wondered if I could have done anything differently. Then I remembered one of the last things she’d said to me: not to feel guilty about things that were beyond my control. These words made feel better, steadier.

And then I thought about Chicago.

I thought about my life there, my friends, my job, my apartment, my books, my things. My job allowed three months’ leave of absence to take care of an ailing family member, but they only allowed five days for funerals and bereavement. It was quite likely that I would be back in Chicago in one week’s time or less.

This thought gave me pause. I was excited to see my friends. I missed them terribly. I missed the city. I also missed my apartment and my job, but to a much lesser extent.

This last month and a half happened. My mother’s sickness and death happened. The bonding and rekindling of my relationships with most of my brothers happened, the notable exception being Billy, who still seemed to hold me at arm’s length.

Also, Drew happened…and that’s where my brain stalled. Because I didn’t know what to think about Drew. I didn’t know how to feel about him or what I was allowed to feel about him.

He’d told me more than once that he didn’t need anything from me. He’d said that my life was in Chicago. What did that mean for us?

Furthermore, was there an ‘us’?

Or was all this just a good man trying to help his friend’s family through a difficult time?

Now, sitting on my bed, angry with my father on my family’s behalf, I felt absolutely no clarity on the issue. Drew holding me close made it especially hard to imagine a future without him in it.

My hands went to his hair and I stroked it back from his face, encouraging him to lean away so I could look at him.

My words were meant to sooth his waspish temper. “Hey, it’s over, yeah? He’s gone. He doesn’t know it yet, but there’s nothing he can do to hurt us. You and Momma made sure of that.”

Drew studied me; his eyes felt more vivid to me than before, hot steel and silver. “Ashley, let me take you home with me, just for the next few days until the funeral is over and the will is read and Darrell sees that there’s nothing for him here.”

His offer caught me off guard; I stared at him and he stared back. A little voice in my head wanted to say, You’re confusing me, Drew. You can stop taking care of me now. She’s gone. And I’m going to be okay.

I decided I didn’t know what to say or think about the two of us. Maybe there wasn’t anything to say. Maybe we would get through the funeral, he’d wish me well, I would board a plane back to Chicago, and that would be that.

This thought left me numb, so I opted for honest politeness. “Thank you, Drew. That’s a really nice offer. But I’m afraid I can’t accept.”

He winced at my words, blinking twice. His expression changed as he studied my face. “What’s going on, Ash?”

I disentangled myself from his arms and stood; I walked to my dresser and faced him. “I don’t want to leave my brothers alone, not now.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed as he watched me. “Darrell’s fixated on you. You can’t take a step outside this house, Ash; it’s not safe. He might charge in here.”

“I know, I know—it’s just, I left them before. When I went to college, I left them.” Billy had taken a beating for all of us. There was no way I was going to leave my brothers now.

“No, Sugar. You lived your life.” Drew stood from the bed and walked to me. He was reaching out for me, but he stopped when I crossed my arms.

Drew took a step back, frowning, but continued to press his point. “You didn’t abandon your brothers then, and you’re not doing it now. Just…come with me.”

“I did. I did abandon them.” I thought over the last six weeks or so and how Billy was perpetually irritated by my presence. “I can’t leave them now.”

“Your daddy’s focus will be on this place because he doesn’t understand yet. No one in town knows where I live. He can’t get to you up on the mountain. Plus, I think your brothers need this. They need a battle to fight. You come with me.”

“Drew….”

The door to my room opened. Jethro and Billy walked in, glancing from Drew to me then around my room.

Billy frowned at my suitcase, open and messy on my floor. “You getting ready to go?”

I surmised they were talking about Drew’s offer to take me to his house. I glared at Drew for a quick second to show my displeasure that he’d talked to my brothers about this before talking to me, and then I placed my hands on my hips and addressed Billy directly.

“No, I am not ready to go. I’m not going anywhere. And I do not enjoy being discussed while I am not present.” Then, not hiding my disappointment and frustration that he’d gone behind my back, to Drew I said, “You should have talked to me about this first.”

“Ashley Austen Winston, this wasn’t Drew’s idea. This was my idea. You cannot be here. You need to leave.” Billy’s quarrelsome tone was a surprise, and I found his eyes boring into me with stark exasperation.

After my initial astonishment wore off, a surge of heated irritation swelled, leaving me seeing red. “William Shakespeare, you quit being ugly. You’ve been throwing snarky remarks in my direction since I arrived. I know you don’t like me much, and I’m sorry that I left you all eight years ago, but I’m here now. And that’s got to count for something.”

Billy looked like he was ready to pitch a fit, but Jethro stepped between us, blocking our view of each other, and spoke to me in his most reasonable voice.

“Now, rest your feathers, Ashley. You know that’s not true. Billy loves you same as the rest of us. Honey, let Drew take you to his house. He explained everything, and I know he’s not your man. He’ll keep you safe from Darrell.”

I blinked at that, again taken by surprise, and opened my mouth to protest, but Jethro shushed me and pulled me into an embrace. “Listen, it’s just for a bit, maybe just one night. But I think we all would sleep better knowing you were out of our father’s reach.”

“I’m safe here,” I argued. “How much safer can I get? I’m surrounded by my six hillbilly brothers.”

He breathed a laugh and laid his cheek on the top of my head. “Ash, I honestly don’t know what Darrell is going to do next. He could break in here with a gun; he could try to set the place on fire. He’s crazy. What I do know is that Drew is a federal law enforcement officer and his daddy is a US senator. He can arrest Darrell on sight if he has to. Besides, he lives on top of the mountain at Bandit Lake. Navigating those roads is like trying to pee in a thimble while drunk and blindfolded. No one knows exactly where Drew lives except me and maybe Roscoe.”

“But….”

“But nothing, hon.” Jethro pulled away but his hands rested on my shoulders, his light brown eyes penetrating, almost hostile. “Please, Ash. Please go with Drew. Please let him take you home and keep you safe.”

I blinked and glanced to the side. My eyes were scratchy from crying. My voice was nasally when I spoke, and I knew my frustration was bleeding through. “I’m not helpless, Jethro. I’ve been taking care of Momma for the last month. I made sure she was bathed and comfortable, and that she’d eaten. I live by myself in Chicago. I put myself through college.”

“Honey, Ash, no one is questioning the fact that, out of all of us, you are the most capable of living in the real world and making good decisions. But Darrell Winston is not one to be reasoned with.” Jethro released a pained breath, his eyes were glassy. His fingers flexed on my shoulders and he shook me a little when he spoke, his voice unsteady. “Honey, you are precious to us. You are precious to me. We just lost Momma. You are my baby sister, and I can’t-”

“Okay, okay.” I cut him off because he was working himself into a tiff. The last thing I wanted was to argue with my brothers. If they wanted me to go with Drew, if it gave them peace of mind, then I would go with Drew.

Jethro exhaled, closed his eyes in relief, and he gave me a big hug. “Thank you.”

My eyes locked with Drew’s, whose gaze was inscrutable; his mouth was a flat line. I couldn’t guess what he was thinking for all the world.

“It’s fine,” I sniffled, not liking that I’d been emotionally blackmailed into leaving. When Jethro finally took his hands from my shoulders, I spoke to all three of them, holding my index finger in front of me like a sword. “But let the record show that I’ve agreed to this only under duress.”

“So noted,” Billy snapped. “But honestly, Ash? If you hadn’t agreed, I was prepared to tie you up and have Roscoe drop you off on Drew’s doorstep. You’re more stubborn than Momma sometimes.”

Something in me snapped at his harsh tone. I was tired of this distance between us. I was tired of earning his censure. I needed to own up to my mistakes, and I needed him to understand that I was sorry.

So I reached for his hand and held it. “Billy, will you forgive me? Will you please forgive me? I’m fighting to stay now because I’m trying to learn from my mistakes. I don’t want to leave you all like I did before. I feel like I abandoned you.”

I watched his throat work without swallowing. At length he said, “Don’t be stupid.”

I ignored him and apologized again because I had to, because he needed to hear it. “Billy, I’m so sorry I left.”

Billy’s eyes moved between mine, and I could see a raw wire of emotion in his blue eyes. I’d struck a nerve.

“Ashley Austen Winston,” he said, his voice rough and unsteady, “it was never about you leaving. You had to go. I get that. We all knew that. Never regret needing to better yourself.”

I nodded, tears springing to my eyes; I thought he was finished and I was grateful for his words.

Therefore, he surprised me when he continued, “It was the staying gone that pissed me off. I can handle your irritation and hard looks. Hell, I can even handle your disappointment, your anger, your sarcasm, and your screaming like a banshee about nothing much that matters. What I can’t abide is your apathy. Apathy between family members makes the blood they share turn to water.”

Neither of us spoke during the ride up the mountain. Lost to my thoughts, I was caught in a net of my own making.

Drew grabbed my suitcase from the bed of his truck before I had a chance to reach it. I thought about reminding him that the giant bag had wheels but decided against it. He looked restless like he wanted to carry something heavy.

I’d packed everything, even the vibrator and condoms from Sandra, as I didn’t know when or if I would get a chance to go back to the house before returning to Chicago. Also, God forbid one of my brothers found the vibrator and/or condoms in my room. The roof would blow off the house.

Life was happening too fast. Momma had died at 4:33 in the morning; now it was 10:30 at night, and everything had changed.

He unlocked the front door and opened it, motioning for me to walk in first. I did.

The last time I’d been at Drew’s place was several weeks ago when I’d called him an ass for calling me sexy. I couldn’t help but smile at the memory because I was so mad at him I could hardly see straight. Now Momma was gone and I missed her. Drew and I would also be indefinitely separated in just a few days.

But that wasn’t quite true. I was thinking of coming home to Tennessee for Christmas. Maybe we’d see each other then….

For some reason, the idea of seeing Drew in passing during family holidays made me feel worse than not seeing him at all.

Drew led me down the hall, past the bathroom where I’d dulled his razor, to a large bedroom. The walls were painted a pale green. A double bed anchored the center of one wall; the comforter looked to be an old quilt made with white and yellow hexagons of fabric hand-stitched neatly together in the honeybee design. A side table was next to the bed and a wooden bench was at the foot of it.

Much like the library I’d woken up in during my first visit, one entire wall was windows, but two of the glass panels were also doors leading out to a large porch or balcony. I couldn’t see much of the porch now, but in the daytime, I would have to explore it.

“You’ll sleep here.” Drew carried my suitcase to the wooden bench and added, “You can use the bathroom you used before. If you’re hungry, help yourself to anything.”

I nodded, thinking that the bed looked sublimely comfortable. It had that cushy appearance, like the mattress was that super swanky orthopedic memory foam and the pillows were feather.

He lingered at the bench, glancing around the space as though inspecting it.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, not looking at me as he moved toward the door.

Just then, an owl hooted.

I shivered and murmured, “Hootiedoom.”

Drew stopped in his tracks, his eyes moving to mine. “What?”

I gave myself a little shake. “Sorry, I said hootiedoom.”

His brow furrowed, but his mouth curved just slightly. “What is hootiedoom?”

“It’s when you experience a sense of dread right after an owl hoots.”

Drew stared at me for a beat then smiled. “I’ve never heard of hootiedoom. Maybe I should add it to my field notes.”

I was grateful for the break in tension, and I managed a small smile. “You have a PhD, and you’ve never heard of hootiedoom? What kind of graduate school was this ‘Baylor University’?” I used air quotes for emphasis.

“Obviously not a very good one.”

“Obviously. Then I’m guessing you never heard of Snipe-shivers?”

He pressed his lips together and faced me, his feet braced apart like he was planning to stay awhile. “No. I’ve never heard of Snipe-shivers.”

“Oh, bless your heart.” I’d said it before I knew I was going to say it. Obviously, some part of me craved bantering with Drew, engaging in a battle of wits and thinking about something other than death and funerals, and crazy dangerous family members, and leaving in a few short days for Chicago.

His mouth dropped open and his eyes became wide saucers under arched eyebrows. “I can’t believe you just bless your heart-ed me.”

“What?” I shrugged, hoping my forced expression of obliviousness was halfway convincing, “What’s wrong with saying bless your heart?”

“Ashley, I grew up in Texas. Ladies all over the south use bless your heart for one reason and one reason only.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have only good intentions for your heart.”

The air in the room shifted as soon as the words left my mouth, my last statement echoing between us, and I realized their double meaning way too late.

“Do you?” He said this simply, the smile waning from his lips.

Drew broke eye contact first, took a step back, and lowered his eyes to the floor. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

Unthinkingly, I stayed his retreat by grabbing his arm just above his elbow. “Wait, Drew.”

His eyes sliced to mine and a grim smile seemed to curve his mouth both up and down. He covered my hand with his. “The funeral will be on Wednesday. I imagine you’ll want to get your flight booked as soon as possible. I have a satellite connection up here for the wireless.”

I sighed, my heart feeling like dead weight in my chest, so I likely sounded overwhelmed when I said, “I honestly don’t know what I want.”

“Ashley….” Drew stepped forward and cupped my face with his big paw. I immediately wrapped my hands around his wrist to keep him there. His eyes became lost while studying my face. The fact that he was staring at me didn’t feel weird because I was staring at him. I had a mounting urge to memorize every detail of his features, just in case—after this week—I never saw him again.

His expression sobered, like his eyes were once again focusing, and he said, “Ash, you just lost your momma, and I just lost a really good friend. Now you know I don’t think of you as a sister…” His eyebrows lifted as he said this, his voice dipped with Texas charm, and it made me laugh even though I felt close to crying.

“Yes. And you know I don’t think of you as a brother.” I sniffled, proud of myself for not succumbing to tears.

“Good.” He kissed my nose, his thumb tracing my cheek, and then he held me away and looked into my eyes. “So let me be the friend you need to help you get through these next few days. Stay here, with me. I’ve told you before, I’ve got no expectations of you. I’m not asking anything from you. You have your life in Chicago; I know that. There’s no pressure here.”

I nodded, feeling a twinge of both disappointment and relief—but mostly disappointment, which made me feel wholly disoriented—when he reminded me that ours was a relationship with no expectations.

Despite my confusion on the subject, I wanted what he was offering. If we could focus on comforting each other, then I was going to make the most out of the next few days. I was going to take as much comfort from Drew as he was willing to offer. And I was going to try to be the friend he needed in return, even if he didn’t actually need anything from me.

“Okay,” I said, shuffling a half step forward. “If that’s the case, then I want you to sleep with me—just sleep—like we did last night. Because I could really use a Viking man-pillow right now.”

“Viking man-pillow?” His lips pressed together again and his beard twitched.

I nodded, gazing into his silvery eyes, my hands slipping from his wrist to wrap around his waist. I wanted to commit his closeness and comfort to memory. I wanted to live the next few days like we could spend forever on top of this mountain. I wanted him to teach me how to just be.