Melanie cracked up, her hand smacking the table. “Watch out for that cowboy, Daisy. There are definitely all kinds of dirty, filthy things going on in there.”
“Cowboy? How many times do I have to remind you? It’s stallion, baby. You know this,” he tossed out to Mel.
He turned back to Daisy, dimples denting his cheeks, and he opened his mouth wide. “Anything? Tell me I’m clear. I can’t take it. Help. Save me,” he sang on a playful plea.
She inspected his tongue before she gripped him by both cheeks, her little fingernails scratching into the scruffy beard he was sporting. “Nope. You’re all in the good and safe. Just like we’re savin’ my mommy.”
“Yes, we are.”
He glanced at me, the ferocity in his eyes belying the lightness in his tone.
Gratefulness tugged at my mouth.
My daddy clapped his hands together. “Okay, my beautiful people. Let’s eat.”
Rhys bounced Daisy in his arms. “Woohoo! I’m starving.”
“Woohoo!” Daisy sang, too.
Richard wound an arm around my waist like that was the way it was supposed to be.
Casual.
Natural.
Again, like it was done every day.
“Dude’s always hungry. You all better make your plates before there’s nothing left,” he said.
Rhys smacked a hand over his heart. “As if I would be so selfish. I’m nothin’ but a giver.”
He winked at Maggie when he said it.
Redness climbed her neck and blossomed on her cheeks.
I glanced at my mama who was watching Richard at my side. His hand curled into my opposite hip.
Sinking in.
Standing firm.
And I knew we had so much to talk about.
But right then?
Right then, I needed to rest in this.
In peace.
In family.
In the spark of hope that I could feel illuminating at the edges of the darkness.
Richard pressed a kiss to my temple. “Why don’t you go sit down and rest? We’ll talk soon.”
I felt the undercurrent. There were hard times coming, hard discussions and hard decisions, but they’d gathered here to give me a moment of reprieve.
I nodded and untangled myself from him, kinda wishing that I didn’t have to.
I ambled over to the table.
Melanie beamed a smile at me and patted the seat between her and my mama. “Come sit your sexy butt down next to me.”
“Sexy butt. Sexy butt.” There went Daisy, her little ears way too keen, the child jumping up and down and chanting it where Rhys had set her back onto her stool. “My mommy is a sexy butt.”
Melanie covered her eyes. “Crap. Where’s my filter for five-year-olds?”
“Pretty sure you left it on the schoolyard in kindergarten,” Emily teased, mischief dancing around her while she finished scooping the diced fruit into a big bowl.
I sank down into the chair, my eyes wide and my heart pounding this frantic, beautiful rhythm, hardly able to process the activity happening in my kitchen. More than had been there in years.
The life. The joy. The faith and the hope and the love.
It didn’t matter if it felt like things were falling apart.
That I was sitting on a razor-sharp edge.
I could feel the fullness of the peace that climbed the walls and hovered in the air.
Richard moved over to Daisy, and he ran a hand down the back of her head before he leaned down to press a kiss to her crown. “You better watch out or Uncle Rhys is gonna get that soap after you.”
Daisy clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops! There I go, breaking the rules. I guess I really am a Tomfoolery, right, Papa?”
My daddy laughed with soft affection. “Yup. You are nothin’ but mischief and tomfooleries.”
Affection lifted and soared. My spirit dancing out around me.
I felt the movement to my left, and I glanced that way to my mama spreading her hand out on the table toward me. I twined my fingers with hers. Squeezed tight.
Amor. Amor. Amor.
It banged and shivered and bound.
My daddy filled two plates, and Richard took them from him, crossed the kitchen, and set them in front of me and my mama. “There we go. Before Rhys can get his grubby hands on it.” He sent a grin to Mama and then shifted to give me a wink.
Love poured out, gushing from the dam where it was supposed to be contained.
And I thought it might have been the most wonderfully terrifying thing I’d ever felt.
* * *
Most of the day gone, we were outside in the backyard. Richard had helped my mama out into the sun where she sat under a blanket in her wheelchair, and Maggie, Emily, Mel, and I had gathered around her.
The guys were playing with Daisy where she climbed the ladder to her slide what had to have been a thousand times, and the three of them took turns catching her at the bottom.
My daddy was napping, exhausted from the trauma from the night before.
Daisy whooped as she hopped onto the platform, rushed across it, and sat back down at the top of the slide. “Here I come! Imma bird, watch me fly!”
She threw her arms into the air and propelled herself into action.
This time it was Royce’s turn to catch her, that dark, intimidating man covered in tats with this stoic, fervent spirit. When she got to the bottom, he lifted her and tossed her into the sky, catching her, the little girl squealing and laughing, her joy palpable in the fall air.
Emily inhaled a sharp breath, and she rubbed her hand over the tiny bump on her belly.
Melanie swatted her arm. “Stop drooling over your man. It’s unbecoming.”
“Um…you’re gonna start blaming me now?” Emily tossed her a grin.
Mel laughed. “Okay, okay, fine. Maybe the rest of us are just jealous you snagged yourself one of the good ones. I mean, seriously, look at that fine ass man. Hot as Hades, he sings and plays, and then he goes around looking at you like that. How is that fair? And I know just because you walk around with that ridiculous grin on your face that the man has to be blowing your mind in bed. And I’m over here scrounging through the dregs.”
I laughed. “Well, Rhys doesn’t look so bad.”
“Nope. He sure doesn’t,” my mama said in her wry, playful way.
Okay.
I thought we could all agree the man was gorgeous in his over-the-top way.
Big and outrageous and full of life.
Melanie grinned, brows disappearing behind her bangs. “Tell me you don’t think Rhys and I are actually a thing?”
“Haven’t you always been? I mean…the tension between you two—”
“Is not close to bein’ sexual,” she cut me off. “He teases the crap out of me, and I give it right back. Honest, kissing that brute would be like kissin’ my brother. My role in his life is trying to keep that bad boy in line. Besides, I’ve seen him in action. Hard pass. Believe me, I was not exaggerating when I told Daisy that boy is nothing but dirt and filth.” Mel laughed when she said it.
“I bet there’s a whole lot more to him than that filthy exterior,” Maggie said, a shot of defensiveness breaking right through the timidity.
Melanie’s brown eyes grew wide with mock horror. “Oh, lord, don’t let that charm and that body and those dimples get to you. That ‘stallion…’”—Mel air-quoted it—“…has starred in far too many rodeos. You do not want to sign up for a ride.”
Emily laughed a light sound. “I’m with Maggie…he’s not that bad.”
Maggie shook her head. “It’s… it’s not like that…no…never mind.”
“Just watch yourself, unless what you’re looking for is a little fun. I’m sure he’d be all too happy to oblige. Just don’t let your brother know. We don’t want to set any fires we can’t put out.” Mel smirked.
Maggie’s eyes flashed up to take in Rhys who had climbed to the top of the playset with Daisy, set
ting the child on his lap and sliding down with her.
They both had their arms in the air like they were riding a rollercoaster.
At the bottom, they toppled to the ground, both cracking up.
My mama’s voice wrapped through the mood. “Oh, good men come in all shapes and forms and fashions. Not one looks alike. Just the same as bad men. The one thing I’ve learned in my life is to listen with my heart.”
Memories swamped me.
Her hand on my chest when I was a child. When I’d be afraid or nervous or excited to try something new.
Listen with your heart.
My attention moved to Richard who’d snatched Daisy into the security of his arms and was currently darting around the lawn, Rhys trying to catch them, Richard outmaneuvering him with each pass.
Everything ached.
My heart listening too hard, screaming against the rational part of me that was terrified to accept what it heard.
“Talk about finding a man who’s all the things.” Maggie touched my knee, her head tilting, her moment of fluster shifting to understanding. “Don’t see any scraps there.”
I tried not to physically react, but it was useless, the way my gaze locked on Richard who kept stealing glimpses of me.
Emily took my hand and squeezed it tight. “No. There are no scraps there. Just a good man who’s scarred in so many ways, looking for a way to repair the damage he has done.”
She looked over at me in worried inspection. “I thought he was gonna lose his mind when I woke him up last night. I mean, not that we all weren’t freaking out, but Richard…I swear I could actually see a piece of him chipped away when I said you were hurt. Or maybe it was a piece being righted. Snapping back into place.”
My spirit shivered and thrashed.
Sorrow pulsed through Emily’s expression. “I can’t believe that happened. Right here on your property.”
Fear slithered in a slow slide across my skin. “Neither can I.”
“Do you…do you have any idea of who it could have been?”
I swallowed around the knot in my throat, glancing around the property as if it might offer insight. Knowing somehow…somehow it had to do with my sister, which was more terrifying than anything else. “I don’t know who it was, but they clearly couldn’t say the same thing about me.”
This attack was not by chance.
It was targeted.
I knew it all the way down to the depths of my soul.
Emily continued to hold my hand. Mel took the other and then reached for my mama’s. Maggie touched my knee.
“You aren’t alone,” Emily urged, her sweet voice tilted in emphasis. “Not even close. We are all right here with you until we find out who is responsible.”
Richard’s watch snapped our way, as if he’d felt the potency of the moment. As if he were a part of it. At the center of that promise.
I ignored the sting of tears, gulped down the terror, and pinned on a smile that faltered when I glanced over and noticed that my mama had slumped down farther. Her frail body sagging with exhaustion.
“Mama…you look tired. Why don’t we get you inside so you can rest?”
Mama smiled. So much joy that it shattered through me. A balm and destruction. “I am feeling a little tired.”
I pushed to standing and moved to lean over her, my hand twining back with hers. I hugged our threaded hands to my chest. “I love seeing your face shine under the sun.”
I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that the day had begun to set.
The heavens changing shape. Strewn in hues of pinks and blues and oranges as the day drifted away.
Soon, darkness would come.
She reached up and touched my cheek. “As horrible as last night was, today has been one of my greatest joys. Being out here with you. With your friends. With this beautiful family who has come to surround my baby girl in their love.” She lowered her voice, her hand going to the thunder of my chest. “Listen to what it says.”
Emotion clutched and squeezed.
Warmth covered me in a bough of shivers when I felt the presence cover me from behind.
Profound severity.
That darkness I wanted to get lost in forever.
I could feel his footsteps as they thudded up the porch steps.
Measured.
Purposed.
Mama touched my chin. “Listen.”
I could barely nod around the crash of sensation, and I swiped at the single tear that got free and straightened when Richard came to stand at my side.
As if he’d heard the call from across the yard and come.
He didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t question.
He edged around me so he could angle down and scoop my mama into his arms.
Care and love and life.
They struck down like thunderbolts of lightning.
Rumbled through the air. A storm hidden to the eye but clear in the mind.
“Are you good?” he rumbled just as deep, curling those arms around my mama tenderly.
Protectively.
“Oh, I am now.”
Mischief glinted in her eye.
I choked around a laugh, around the fullness, around the realization that I could feel gathering to a breaking point.
I moved for the back door and held it open so he could carry her inside. His aura covered me when he shifted slightly to carry her through the threshold, and I found myself holding my breath to keep from completely losing myself.
To keep from floating away.
He carried her through the kitchen and living room and started up the stairs, murmuring words I couldn’t hear as I trailed along behind at a distance, my pulse stampeding and my spirit rioting as he carried her all the way into her room.
And when I watched him settle her onto her bed, when I saw him adjust her pillows and her blanket, when I recognized he’d given her this day, a day to live to its fullest, I knew that was where I wanted to be.
Lost.
And when he knelt at her bedside, when they shared whispered words, when he took her weathered hand in both of his and began to sing in the way that only the man could, I realized I was already there.
Tripping.
Nothing below but the darkness of his abyss.
I was in a free fall.
And there was no chance of stopping this.
Twenty-Eight
Richard
Had you ever experienced a turning point in your life? A single, defining moment that changed everything? I’d venture to say we all had. Probably multiple times.
I could pinpoint a few of mine.
The first time I’d picked up a guitar and felt the freedom of holding it in my hands.
The first time I’d stood on a stage in front of an audience and felt the rush of adrenaline surge with the first beat of the song. The way it felt like flying.
The night I’d met Violet Marin. Yeah, that’d felt like flyin’, too.
The night I’d lost her.
And right fucking then.
Violet’s mother in my arms as I carried her upstairs, her dark eyes rimmed in violet that were so much like Violet’s, the woman watching me in this way that made me certain she could see right through me.
To the guilt.
To the shame.
To the secrets buried underneath.
And still, like there was a bridge of trust that we were crossing together.
Thought my ribs were being cracked open wide, the woman so light it felt like I was carrying papier-mâché. All except for the weight of her spirit.
The fullness of it.
The realness of it.
“I’ve got you,” I found myself saying, repeating what I’d told her daughter.
I’ve got you.
It was a promise that meant so much more than simply carrying her to her bedroom, same way as I carried her downstairs this morning so she could be in the kitchen with the rest of us when Violet woke up.
It was a promise tha
t I would hold her.
Fight for her.
Fight for her family.
Fight for what was right.
I carried her into her room and situated her onto her bed, adjusted her pillows, and pulled the blanket over her feeble body. “There we go,” I murmured softly. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” Knew from the way she watched me that it had nothing to do with her getting comfortable in bed.
My smile was meek, riddled with remorse, and I started to back away, but she reached out and gripped me by the hand. “Thank you,” she rushed to say.
I sank to my knees at the side of her bed, and I cupped her bony hand in between both of mine. “Don’t thank me. I’m the one who’s done all the damage.”
Her head shook against her pillow. “I never believed that.”
Emotion clogged my throat, and I struggled to breathe around it. To pretend like I wasn’t affected. Like sitting here at her bedside wasn’t killing me. “I wish it weren’t true.”
Her mouth trembled at the side. “Will you be there for her?” she implored, tendrils of her spirit reaching for me.
Her attention shifted toward the doorway where I could feel Violet hanging back. Observing from the distance.
Mrs. Marin kept her voice low. “My Violet is strong. Fierce and brave. A fighter. She is a quiet warrior. She may have been knocked down, but she will stand. I know this. She doesn’t need anyone to take care of her. Overshadow her. But she deserves to have someone come alongside her. To support her. To stand for her. Tell me, Richard Ramsey, will you be the one?”
“I will be by her side for as long as she will allow me to be.”
Her eyes deepened like she’d seen all the way to a new layer. Dark depths swimming in awareness. “And you need her to come alongside you. To heal the brokenness inside you. To show you the power of forgiveness. To remind you that you deserve it, too. I see it, dear boy.”
My forehead dropped to our intertwined hands, and I exhaled a shaky breath. One of apology. “I don’t deserve it. But I pray that someday…someday I might.”
I squeezed her hands tighter, began to sing, and prayed one day she might forgive me, too.
* * *
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