This Old Wind (Leanin' N Book 5)

by BA Tortuga

  And she loved them all so much.

  He settled on the couch, letting her bring coffee and a plate of muffins and grapes. She did love to bustle.

  “Okay, so tell me what happened with you,” she said.

  “I came in Friday. Red-eye from LA. When I was pulling in up here, I, uh…” Simon sighed. “I fell asleep and hit Michael’s truck.”

  “Seriously?” She gawped at him a bit. “You’re serious?”

  “I am. Bang. Totaled the rental, killed his truck.” He lifted his shirt to show her his bruises and one taped rib.

  “Oh baby. You have to slow down, get some rest.” She patted his hand. “Lord, your poor baby body.”

  “I was just in meetings all up until I left. Usually I would be better rested,” he lied. “What happened to you guys?”

  “Weather between here and Orlando because your father requires the absolute cheapest plane tickets on earth.” Her lips pursed, and she shook her head. “We didn’t get in until damn near 4:00 a.m.”

  “That sucks.” He sighed. “She’s vicious mad, Mom. Like, super-duper. Had a quickie ceremony while I was sleeping and left for the honeymoon.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, she won’t answer. She’s acting like I missed the rehearsal supper on purpose!”

  “It was a cluster…flop. Really. I would let her cool off.” He knew Stevie would, and he would bet there would be a vow renewal at some point soon for all the family.

  “Yeah. Where…?” She looked around like she was afraid someone was going to overhear. “Where are Jesse’s people?”

  “Aspen. I imagine they’re relieved.” He winked.

  “She did move everything out of Nashville in a rush. They were not happy. That woman called me a lot.”

  “Mom. Not nice to call the mother of the groom ‘that woman.’” He had to work to keep from laughing.

  “She’s being nice,” Dad said, coming to join them.

  “True. She called our Stevie a twat.” Mom’s eyes went wide. “Can you imagine?”

  “No.” Ouch. Stevie could be a little capricious, but her heart was golden. “It was my fault, Mom. Me. She wanted me to be able to relax.”

  “Well, I can see that. I can. But no, you’re right. It’s a clusterfuck.”

  “Mom!” He burst out laughing, spewing muffin crumbs.

  “Oh dear, Mother. Napkin?” Dad’s eyes were twinkling.

  “Please.” He wiped up. “Damn. But we get a little vacation.”

  “Is she okay?” Dad asked. “I wanted to give her away.”

  Ouch again. Stevie wasn’t necessarily totally in the wrong here, but they would all have some making up to do. “She’ll be fine. She was really frustrated. I think Jesse’s people were tough.”

  “It’s over now. All this planning and drama was for what?” Mom sighed. “I hate this. I swear to God.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Maybe he should call Stevie, see if she would come back.

  “Well, me too, but I haven’t had a weekend with you in years, so we’ll make the best of a weird situation.” She bumped shoulders with him. “How sore are you? Honestly?”

  “Not as bad as yesterday. I was wicked sore then. Today it’s more a grumpy throb.”

  “So, Simon here wrecked his rental into the truck of someone he knew,” she told Dad. “What are the odds?”

  “Well, obviously one hundred percent, as that is what happened.”

  “Dad.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Anyone we know?” Dad asked.

  “No. No, I met him ages ago.”

  “Well, you know, we’ve been around since…” Dad lowered his voice. “Before you were even born.”

  “I know!” He made a shocked face.

  “Simon’s friend has these two little girls,” Momma said. “Twins?” When he nodded, she chuckled. “I swear, they look just like Simon did at that age. About gave me a heart attack.”

  “What?”

  “I’m serious. Those eyes made me hiccup, suddenly it was twenty years ago.”

  Simon blinked at his mom. “Well. I—their mom.” What kind of eyes had Rhiannon had? He was ashamed he couldn’t quite place them now that Mom had talked about the girls looking like him. “She passed away when they were tiny.”

  He wasn’t sure why that popped out of his mouth, but it was what had.

  “Oh, that’s awful! Poor little ones!”

  Dad tsked. “That’s sad, bud. How do you know him?”

  “We toured together, way back when.” That was, at least, the truth.

  “Oh, Lord,” Mom said. “An old old friend, then.”

  “Yeah. They hired him to be the wedding singer.” He grinned, still marveling at the irony.

  Dad snorted. “That is funny, son. Y’all were meant to meet again.”

  “I guess so.” He wouldn’t get his hopes up that far or anything, but he hoped they got to spend some time together. Michael still did it for him. He needed to see if he did it for Michael too.

  Having Michael tell him he was beautiful had been the most amazing thing he’d felt in…probably a few years. It had put him on top of the world.

  “You’ll have to see the little girls, honey. I swear, they’ll blow your mind.”

  “I bet I’ll see them around today. I hear there are dogs to be petted.” Dad did love other people’s dogs.

  Mom rolled her eyes. “Wash your hands.”

  “I will, honey. I won’t make you sneeze.” Dad’s eyes danced, so wicked, so playful.

  Simon ducked his head to hide another grin. He loved his folks together.

  “Don’t you take his side, you turd!” Mom was laughing hard, though, and all the terrible tension dissolved. It was so easy to let old shit color the new.

  Dude, that would be something to hang a song lyric on.

  “I’m just sitting here now.” He made with the innocent face, then took a bite of muffin.

  “Uh-huh. You’ve never been able to pull that off. Ever.”

  “I know!” No, she’d always known when he was lying or trying to pull one over on her. Hell, he’d gotten blamed for some shit little Stevie had done because he had stank face. It was no fair. Then again, he could also hear her, clear as day.

  Life’s not fair.

  That sobered him a little, and sure enough, his mom touched his arm. “You look tired, sweetie.”

  “I am.” He found himself telling Mom the truth. “I need… I’m tired.”

  “Because of the accident, or life?” She always knew, right? That was why he hadn’t seen them much in the last year; he was hiding from those wise eyes.

  “I’m… I sound whiny if I say it’s all become a lot, Mom.”

  “You’re allowed to whine to me, honey. I’m the momma.”

  “Thanks, lady. I… I’m trying to figure out what the heck I’m so grumpy about.”

  “Oh, honey.” She turned and faced him, shaking her head. “You can’t live on soundchecks and standing ovations. You have to refill the well sometime, know what I mean?”

  “I didn’t for a long time, but I think I do know now.” He used to get all his energy from the audience and his inspiration for songwriting from travel. Nowadays, he wanted a retreat every so often.

  “So, travel, see things, hang out with people, and write for a while.”

  “I can’t just take time off tour.”

  “Why not?” Dad asked. “Do you have a new record coming out?”

  “No. Not yet. I need to write one…”

  Mom’s eyebrow went up in that, “See?” sort of way.

  Simon sighed. “You always make things sound so easy. I’ll call my manager.”

  “I can call Beth for you, if you want.” Yeah, Mom had hired Beth for him when he was fifteen, and Simon had zero doubt—zero—that Mom wouldn’t get him—

  He heard a whooping, then looked out the window and saw the ranch owner and Michael, both riding like demons, the horses racing down the pasture.

  The sight made his mouth dry.
>
  Michael was… God. He was a cowboy, no doubt about it. Like, in an epic way. Those lean hips worked to keep him right in the middle, as if his upper body was barely moving.

  “Look at them ride!” Dad hooted, wandering over to the window. “I’m going to go out and watch. It’s too nice to be cooped up in here.”

  “I’ll come with you.” He levered himself up, offering Mom his arm. Any excuse to ogle Michael.

  “Boys.” Like Mom hadn’t ridden back in the day.

  Chloe and Mickey were standing with Quartz, and they waved at him.

  “Honey, look.”

  Dad glanced over and started. “Jesus.”

  Simon waved back, then frowned at his dad. “What’s wrong?”

  “They look just like you. That’s so weird. Did you have yourself cloned?”

  He looked back at the girls, his joking comment dying on his lips. They did look an awful lot like him when he was a kid. That was weird as hell. He didn’t remember Rhiannon looking like him, but maybe Michael had a type…

  He blinked. Shook his head. Okay, that was—

  “No clones,” he finally said when he realized his folks were looking at him.

  “Well, that’s good…right?” Dad could do confused better than anyone.

  “Yep. I mean, they haven’t figured out how to get clones all stable and stuff. You guys want to see what’s going on up at the house? Do we need to do anything about the food or the cake they’ll be delivering or anything?”

  “Mr. Nixel took care of the cake, and the caterer is donating the food and flowers to a nursing home.” Mom rolled her eyes like dice. “Apparently, this type of thing has happened before. Can you imagine?”

  “Yeah. At least no one left anyone at the altar, huh?” Simon had been to a wedding like that once. His friend LeAnn had socked her cheating bastard of a fiancé on the jaw and walked right out to head to a bar to get drunk.

  “True. I think Jesse is good for her. I like him.”

  Simon didn’t laugh, because really, Mom and Dad had been, from all reports, good to Jesse. Still, the part of him that was loyal to Stevie wanted to poke and…

  Jesus. Here came Michael.

  There was no racing this time, just a slow…what did they call that? A lope? Rich people called it a canter. The horse was under control, and Michael was like a freaking centaur.

  He picked up his camera and started videoing this. He could watch this, over and over again.

  His mom snorted, but he ignored her. Hell, this was a song waiting to happen, and she wanted him to write, didn’t she?

  This was the rhythm, right there. Bump-ba-bump, bump-ba-bump.

  He tapped it out on the case of his phone. Yeah. That was it.

  He’d listen again soon. Maybe this afternoon. He could make some notations, for sure.

  “Did you still want to walk over to the ranch house, son?” his Dad asked, and he glanced up, noticing Michael and Stoney were gone.

  “Sure. Sure. I can write later.”

  “Good deal. I want to see what all there’s to do while we’re here. It’s gorgeous up here.”

  “I hear there’s all sorts of stuff. Clearly there are horses.” He winked, and Mom chuckled, tugging at his arm.

  “Aspen is close too. I was thinking about lots of sleep, since there’s no party.”

  “Yeah.” Mom sighed. “You boys go on. I’m going to call Stevie again.”

  “Okay. Don’t get yourself too upset,” Dad soothed.

  Ah, family politics. They were a minefield, and Simon knew how much he sucked at them.

  “Come on, Dad. Let’s go see the horses.” Time to bounce.

  “Sure.” Dad gave him an odd look but detoured with him toward the barns.

  Oh. He’d meant to see them from the big house’s porch like everyone else, but this worked. “You doing okay?”

  “I’m just trying to keep up, son. This has been kind of a mess from the beginning.” Dad gave him a little smile. “I love it up here, though.”

  “I know. So do I. I think that’s the reason Stevie did all this—for me, I mean, and it’s all fucked-up.” And it was, except for meeting Michael again.

  “Well, you know none of us meant to. She’s still so damn young.”

  That wasn’t even making excuses. No, he knew Dad meant that Stevie didn’t have the decision-making maturity that even he had. She was really young, and hypersensitive.

  “We all make stupid mistakes when we were kids.” Dad sounded like he was chewing on his cheek. “Lord knows I did.”

  “Yeah? What was the dumbest?” He grinned over, waiting to see if his dad would actually tell all.

  “Honestly? Probably I cheated on my first girlfriend, and she found out, called me out on it. It was an awful thing to do, and I lost both girls in the end, and I lost my best friend too.”

  “Ouch. Your best friend being your girlfriend?” He was probably poking at a little sore spot, even after all these years, but he had this unholy desire to know.

  “My best friend being the boyfriend of the girl I cheated on my girlfriend with…”

  Simon took a moment to do the math. “Does that make it a love quadrangle?” When his dad snorted hard, he laughed. “Sorry. That does sound sordid.”

  “Shit, you remember seventeen. Everything is sordid.”

  “Hey, I was a good kid.”

  “For someone obsessed with being a rock and roll singer, yeah,” Dad teased. “You gave us more than one gray hair, staying out all night with your guitar at some club you weren’t even old enough to get into.”

  His grin bloomed on his face. “God, I felt like a stud back then.”

  “You did, hmm? You were skinny.”

  Family always knew how to lower you back to earth.

  “I’m hotter now. More muscled.” Come on, Dad. Give me something.

  “You’re amazing, son. Successful, good-looking, and definitely more your mom than me.”

  “Why on earth would you say that, Dad?”

  “I’m dull as dishwater, huh?” Dad said it cheerfully. “I’m solid as a rock, but I don’t sparkle. That was your mom’s job.”

  “You make Mom happy. I can’t imagine her in love with anyone else. Seriously.”

  “I adore her. And you and Stevie.” His dad clapped him gently on the back. “That’s always been enough for me.”

  He didn’t understand what Dad was trying to tell him, dammit. “We love you. Even Stevie.”

  “I know,” Dad said as Mickey and Chloe streaked by them, Haley on a short leash, barking her fool head off. “God, those girls look like you. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

  “Yeah?” He looked again, wondering how old the girls were, exactly. He thought seven, maybe?

  “It’s a little uncanny. Did you know their mom?”

  “I did. I liked her a lot.”

  “Huh. Did she look like you?”

  “I… I don’t think so?” She’d been darker than Michael, who was a golden angel, but no. No, they’d made a sort of Witches of Eastwick trio…

  “Weird.” Dad chuckled wryly. “I swear to God, they could be yours.”

  “Yeah.” Simon stared at them. That was the most ridiculous, and hopefully fleeting thought he’d had all day.

  The big barn door was open, and a cowboy he hadn’t met was dancing with Chloe and Mickey just inside, blocking them off like a cattle dog. “Nope. No going to see the donkey. He’s bitey today.”

  “Oh, girls. Don’t get bit. That’s not good.” He went to them, and they both looked up at him, gray eyes laughing.

  “Mr. Simon!”

  “Hey.” He grinned down, and they did make him stare a little. They were adorable, though.

  “Did you see Daddy riding? He goes like the wind.” Chloe had the wings on.

  “He does. He’s crazy good with horses, huh?” And gorgeous. Insanely hot.

  “Like super good. He likes to go fast.”

  Mickey smiled. “I want to race barre
ls. I mean, I do but I don’t. If I hurt my hands, I would be mad, but it looks fun to go that fast.”

  “Yeah?” Lord. How did a parent deal with that? He couldn’t. “What does your dad say?”

  “He says I have to be twelve, but I can start working up to it.”

  Chloe twirled. “I want to learn to fly.”

  “Like an airplane?”

  “Or a fairy.” She zoomed around, arms out.

  “She saw hang gliding once,” Mickey stage-whispered and rolled her eyes. So grown-up. “Now she thinks she’ll sprout wings.”

  “It was like a giant butterfly.” Chloe looked at his dad. “Are you Mr. Simon’s daddy?”

  “I am. I’m Saul.” Dad held out one hand.

  “Mr. Saul, pleased. I’m Chloe. This is Mickey. We’re twins.”

  “I see that. You’re both lovely.” Dad bent closer. “You look like my Simon when he was a kid.”

  “Do we?” She smiled, turning her face to the sun, her eyes just shining.

  “Yep.” Dad left it at that. “So, is there really a donkey?”

  “There is. He’s evil and temperamental.” The cowboy grinned at Dad. “You ride, sir? I can hook you up.”

  “Uh, you got anything older and slower?” Dad liked a trail ride.

  “Of course. Seriously, we have all types of mounts.”

  “Then I’m in.” Dad grinned. “I mean, I need to go change.”

  “Good deal. I’ll saddle up Marley. She’s a doll baby. What about you, man?” The cowboy looked at Simon.

  “Uh. Not today? I’m still a little sore. Will someone go with him?”

  “You know it.” The guy winked. “I’m Tanner, and I’ll take anyone who wants to go.” Then he looked at the little girls. “Your daddy said when he got back with Mr. Stoney, you two could go, not before.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Mickey smiled a little. “We’d have to put Haley back anyway.”

  “Good girls,” Simon muttered under his breath.

  “You can stay with us, Mr. Simon,” Chloe said. “Daddy says you can sing. Will you teach us a song?”

  “Well…sure. Absolutely.” Why not?

  Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Go get your guitar, Mickey!”