Three Words (Whiskey River Road Book 3)

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Three Words (Whiskey River Road Book 3) Page 18

by Kelly Moore


  “You’re welcome. Now, what do you say we get out of here, so we don’t miss our plane.”

  I stand, reaching out for his. “I say, let's go start our honeymoon.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Clem

  “I can’t wait to see Ellie and Ian today. It’s been two long weeks since they left for their honeymoon. I want to hear all about her sailing trip.”

  “If I know Ellie, you’ll hear a lot more than that.” Boone chuckles.

  “I’m sure I will. I wonder if she found some other body part to pierce while she was gone.”

  “If she did, please don’t tell me.” He scrunches his nose.

  He parks the truck out front of the main house. Daddy and Jane are sitting on the front porch swing. Bear and Nita have the water hose on, and they’re chasing Missy, who’s squealing with laughter.

  Ethan and Noah, who’ve become good friends, are throwing a football in the front yard.

  Wyatt is sitting on the far side of the porch, staring out at the cattle. I take a seat next to him. Boone goes inside to fix us some sweet tea.

  “How are you doing?” I ask Wyatt, jerking him out of his thoughts.

  “Fine,” he grumbles. He takes a bottle out of his pocket and pops a couple of pills.

  “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “Some days are better than others.”

  “Are you still in physical therapy?”

  “What’s the point? It hasn’t gotten any better.” He rubs his thigh.

  “It might if you keep trying.”

  He looks away.

  “Have you seen Margret lately?”

  “There ain’t no point in that either,” he snarls.

  “If you—”

  “I don’t want to talk about my leg or Margret,” he cuts me off.

  “Okay. How about work? Or is that subject something you want to avoid too.” It’s hard to keep the snark out of my tone.

  “That’s the only thing that’s going well.”

  “You do nothing else. You work so hard we don’t see you for days. I miss you on the ranch.”

  “It’s just better if I keep busy.”

  “If you’re in pain, I learned some tricks in the army that might help you.”

  “I don’t want your help,” he growls.

  “You don’t have to be so mean about it.” I pout.

  His eyes soften. “I’m sorry, Clem. I know you’re trying to help.” He runs a hand through his hair that’s gotten long. “I’ll keep trying, but please don’t push Margret on me. She needs a man, not some broken-down lawyer.”

  “I don’t think she sees you as broken, but I’ll respect what you want.”

  “Thank you.” He pats my arm.

  “Have you heard anything on Watkins?”

  “No. It’s like the man’s disappeared from the face of the earth.”

  Why does his answer make my gut hurt? “I guess that’s a good thing for us.”

  “It doesn’t mean we can let our guard down where he’s concerned. He did threaten to show up when we least expect it.”

  “How about his partner? His assets still frozen?”

  “For the time being. He’s hired himself a good attorney. There’s a chance he’ll get off again.”

  “What’s next for you as mayor?”

  “I’m making it my mission that this town can’t be sold.”

  “What about all the property that Watkins bought and the housing developments?”

  “It’s all on hold until he shows his face.”

  “And what if he doesn’t?”

  “The city will take it over and decide what to do with it.”

  “Sounds like you have your hands full.”

  He nods. “Who’s that coming down our road?” He points.

  I shield the sun from my eyes. “Looks like a deputy’s car.”

  It pulls in our driveway, and Bear’s friend Mike gets out with another officer.

  “I hope it’s a friendly visit.” Wyatt grabs his cane, groaning as he gets to his feet.

  I walk with him to the steps of the porch, along with Boone, Noah, Ethan, and Bear. Daddy looks none too concerned as he stays on the bench with Jane.

  “Howdy,” Boone says. “What can we do for the two of you?”

  Bear shakes Mike’s hand. “Good to see you, man.”

  “I’m afraid I’m here on official business.” He clears his throat.

  That gets Daddy’s attention. He gets up and moves in front of Mike. “You weren’t invited on my property, son.”

  Mike ignores him. “There has been missing person’s report filed on Watkins. You wouldn’t happen to know his whereabouts, would you?” He directs the question to all of us.

  “We haven’t seen him since the day he tried to kill Ellie and Wyatt,” Bear says.

  “Who filed the report?” Boone asks.

  That sick feeling in my stomach has come back with a vengeance.

  “His partner’s attorney. They’ve been trying to locate him to testify in court, but they’ve been unsuccessful.” He steps up to Daddy.

  “Mr. Calhoun, you seen Watkins?”

  Daddy shakes his head.

  “I know in the past there have been rumors about men who crossed you disappearing.”

  Daddy’s laugh is deep. “You can’t believe rumors, son.”

  I can’t help but cut my gaze to Boone to see his reaction. There is none. He knows something.

  “There will be an investigation, and I’ll be getting a warrant to search your property if I find anything out of the ordinary.”

  Wyatt speaks up. “You better make sure to have all your t’s crossed and i’s dotted before you step back on this land.”

  “If you’ve got nothing to hide, why you getting all bowed up?” Mike asks, looking at Chet.

  “He doesn’t have anything to hide,” Bear states.

  “Then there won’t be any issue coming onto your land when I have all the proper documents, and just cause.” Mike tips his hat, then he and his partner get back in the car.

  I take Boone’s hand, dragging him into the house. “Please tell me he’s not going to find Watkins’s body somewhere on this property.”

  He bites the inside of his cheeks.

  “What did you do? You promised me you wouldn’t kill him.” I keep my voice low.

  “I didn’t say I killed him.” He glares at me.

  “You didn’t say you didn’t either,” I snarl at him.

  “I can’t tell you what happened?”

  “Why? Because you’re guilty? How could you do this? It’s the one thing I told you would ruin our marriage!”

  The others walk inside the house when my voice raises.

  “What’s going on in here?” Bear asks.

  “Why don’t you ask my husband? Maybe you can get an answer out of him!”

  “Clem, you need to leave this alone.” Daddy’s voice is threatening.

  “You made him kill Watkins, didn’t you?” I seethe.

  “Nobody said Watkins was dead,” Ethan interjects.

  I get in Boone’s face. “Is Watkins dead?” My angry eyes search his.

  After a long moment, he nods.

  “That doesn’t mean he killed him!” Noah shouts.

  My tears don’t come, but they fill my heart. “We’re done. Get your things and get out.” I storm past him. Daddy steps in my way. “Don’t you ever speak to me again!” I point. “You asking my husband to kill Watkins makes you no better than him. You’ve ruined this family.” I swing open the door.

  “Clem.” Boone’s tone halts me.

  I turn, tears finally falling, hoping like hell he’ll tell me it ain’t true.

  He looks around the room at our family. His head falls, and his shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”

  Sneak Peek at Kentucky Rain

  Whiskey River Road, Book 4

  Wyatt Calhoun

  Chapter One

  Wyatt

  “Wyatt! You i
n there?” Margret yells as she beats on my front door. “Come on, open the door. I’m worried about you!” The banging doesn’t stop, and it makes my head throb.

  I pop the two pills cupped in my hand into my mouth, and bend down to drink out of the faucet. Standing tall, I tilt my head back and swallow.

  “Please let me in!” She’s as relentless as a dog with a bone.

  Picking up the pill bottle, I look inside of it, contemplating taking a few more to rid myself completely of the pain in my leg. It never seems to stop hurting.

  “Wyatt.” Her voice is quieter. “I brought you your favorite food. It’s my own secret recipe for fried chicken.”

  She’s obviously not going away, and a man’s gotta eat. I pull on a pair of jeans and pick up my cane resting against the counter. Opening the mirrored drug cabinet, I toss the bottle of pain pills inside. Glancing at my reflection, I don’t recognize myself. My dark hair is long, and I’m sporting a scruffy beard with hints of gray that match the patches of color weaved into my hair. I’ve been working from home, so my appearance hasn’t been my priority. Neither has my family or friends. I’ve avoided all of them since the wedding. I don’t need nor do I want a lecture from any of them.

  “I’m not leaving, so you might as well let me in!” She’s back to yelling loud enough that my family might hear her clear across the property.

  Leaning on my cane to help alleviate some of the ache in my leg, I make my way to the door. “I’ll eat what you brought, but go away.” I press my forehead against the grain of the wood.

  “I’m not doing any such thing. No one has laid eyes on you for weeks, and I’m not leaving until I know you’re alright.”

  “I’m fine. Go bug Clem.”

  “She ain’t answering her door either. This family is a mess, and you need to get your shit together and fix it!” She pounds on the door again, rattling it against my head.

  Taking a step back, I unlock it, only opening it a crack. I jam my foot against it, blocking further movement. I peek through the gap.

  “There you are. I’ve missed those silver eyes of yours.” She lifts a finger, placing it on my face. “I was wondering if you still had those specks of blue in them.”

  “I’m not in the mood, Margret.”

  “You tell me that every time I stop by.” She pouts.

  “Then stop coming over.”

  “Wyatt Harrison Calhoun! You let me in right this minute, or I’m going to get your daddy’s shotgun and shoot my way inside!” Her brows are scrunched together and her hands are flying in the air, making her look like an angry bumblebee.

  I slam the door. “Why can’t you take a hint and leave me the hell alone!” I swing the door open wide.

  Margret gasps. “Oh my!” Her hand covers her mouth. “You look plumb awful.”

  “Thanks,” I say sarcastically.

  Margret’s hand leaves her mouth, and she touches the hair falling on my neck. She jerks her hand back quickly. “When’s the last time you took a shower?”

  “Did you come here just to insult me or what?” I back up out of her way.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never even seen you with a hair out of place.” She walks in, gazing around my living room. “This house is a shambles. If you needed help, you should’ve let me in one of the first twenty times I stopped by.” She lays the basket down she had gripped in her hand, and she starts straightening up the pillows and the blanket on the leather couch.

  “Twenty-five times to be exact. You’re one determined woman.”

  She stops fluffing the pillow and moves close to me. “I’ve missed seeing your…handsome face.” Her eyes pleat together as she gathers a good look at me.

  “I haven’t been up for company.” My cane taps across the wood floor as I make my way to the dining room table with her close behind me.

  “How about shirts? Are you opposed to those too?”

  I glance down at my bare chest.

  “I’ll just go rustle one out of your dresser.” She disappears into my room and comes back with a white t-shirt.

  Hooking the cane on the table, I sit and take the shirt from her, pulling it over my head. “Is that better?” My tone is clipped.

  “Thank you,” she says, picking up the picnic basket and placing it on the counter. She opens cabinets, searching for plates. When she finds them, she removes containers of food from her basket.

  “Smells good,” I say. I know for a fact she’s a damn good cook.

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in weeks.” Her grin is filled with as much sarcasm as my words earlier.

  She places two plates on the table, then turns to open the refrigerator. “When’s the last time you bought groceries?” She bends over, looking in the empty spaces.

  “It’s been a while.”

  “No wonder you look so thin.” She shuts it, taking a seat at the table.

  I pick up a crispy fried thigh, taking a bite into it. “Oh my gawd, Margret. This is delicious.” I catch a piece of the breading before it falls in my lap and pop it into my mouth.

  “I’m not sure that’s a compliment. I think any food you could eat right now would be tasty.” She picks up her fork, scooping up mashed potatoes.

  “Take the compliment.” I crunch into the chicken.

  “If you’re not feeling up to it, I’ll go pick up groceries for you. I can even premake some meals for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I think it is. This house is a mess, you have no food, and you’re in total disarray.”

  “We can eat without talking,” I say between bites.

  “I swear you’re more ornery than Chet.”

  I drop the chicken bone on my plate and wipe my mouth on my shirt sleeve as my jaw clenches together. We have a stare-off for a moment. She’s right. I have become a grouchy old bastard. Pain rips through my leg, and I recall why I want to be left alone.

  “I don’t know why you’re bothering with me. If it’s because you and I had a romp in the hay a few times, you got the wrong idea, and for that, I’m sorry.” I push my chair back from the table, clutching my cane. I hobble into the bathroom, taking the bottle of pills out again and tossing two more back. I hear the front door open and close. I feel like a heel. I hate hurting her. She’s been nothing but kind to me.

  My stomach rumbles for more of her home-cooked meal, so I head back into the dining room, surprised to see she’s leaning on the counter with her arms angrily crossed over her chest. “I thought you’d gone.”

  “I was leaving but figured I needed to say my piece first.”

  I sit back at the table. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

  “You can push me away all you want. I’m still gonna come back even if you’re mean to me.”

  “Why? Why would you want to?”

  She walks over and kneels in front of me. “Because I know the man inside. You’re hurting and lashing out at everyone. And I don’t care how much you grumble, I know you care about me. We were just starting to have a good thing going until…”

  “Until I got shot, and Ellie was beaten.”

  “Yes. Ellie has moved on. You’re stuck.”

  “Ellie healed physically. I didn’t.”

  She brushes my hair off my forehead. “You can still get better. You quit going to physical therapy.”

  “It wasn’t helping, and the pain was worse every day.”

  “You have to give it more time.”

  “I don’t have time. This family is still in danger.”

  “You think hiding in this house is helping them?” She splays her hand around the room.

  “I’m working from my home computer. Mike’s been asking a million questions about Watkins's whereabouts. I’m the one that’s keeping him from getting a search warrant on this ranch. Right now, he’s still considered a missing person.”

  “Do you really think Boone killed him?” She stands, taking the chair next to me.

  “There’
s a very good chance he did.”

  “No wonder Clem won’t leave her house.”

  “She hasn’t?”

  “No, and you would know that if you’d leave yours.”

  “Have you seen Boone?”

  “He’s been staying at the Magnolia. I figured after everything I put him through, the least I could do is provide him a place to stay.”

  “Does Clem know he’s there?”

  “I tried to tell her, but she ain’t answering her door or her phone.”

  “Damn, that isn’t good.”

  “Maybe you should try talking to her.”

  “I’m not her favorite person. She’s closer to Bear and Ellie.”

  “Ellie’s so wrapped up in Ian, and Bear’s trying to build a life with Nita. None of them have time for her.”

  “They’d goddamn better make time!” I slam my fist on the table, rattling the plates.

  “Then, you should think about getting your act together to help your sister.”

  “If Boone killed Watkins, I don’t know that I can help her.”

  She draws my hand into hers. “Clem Calhoun Methany loves Boone to the core, and he feels the same. She’s just all mixed up with her ideas. If Boone killed Watkins, then he deserved it.”

  “She doesn’t see it that way.”

  “Then help her.” She stands. “Boone is lost without her. He looks almost as bad as you.” She picks up her plate headed to the sink, she peeks over her shoulder. “Almost.”

  “Man, you’re tough on a guy’s ego.” I chuckle.

  “Was that a laugh coming from you?” She spins in my direction.

  “Hardly.”

  “I think it was,” she teases. “That bug might be working its way out of your ass after all.”

  “You’ve been talking to Bear entirely too much.”

  She lifts her wrist, glancing at her watch. “I’m afraid I can’t stay. My help gets off at five, and there is no one to cover the front desk in case my guests need anything.”

  I was just beginning to enjoy her company, but there is no way I’m leading her on. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass. Call next time before you threaten to shoot down my door.”

 

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