by Jamie Begley
“Someone who doesn’t want their friends to have to put up with the same ill humor my brothers are.”
“They’ll deal with it for the same reason that Holt and Asher are—because they love you.”
Jessie rubbed her lips together. They were still tender and slightly puffy. She had no comeback.
Embarrassed when Dustin’s eyes dipped to her lips, she became flustered. Rising, she told Logan, “I made you some oatmeal cookies. Would you like one?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Would you like one, Dustin?”
“Yes, as long they aren’t made out of mud.”
Pretending to be affronted by his question, she placed her hands on her hips. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy the ones I made for you for your sixth birthday?”
“I’m saying I’d rather not repeat the experience.”
“You made Dad cookies out of mud?” Logan gave his dad a sympathetic glance.
“I did.” Jessie smiled reminiscently.
“Son, if Darcy made you a cookie out of mud, would you eat it?”
Jessie couldn’t interpret the shared look between father and son before Logan turned away to give an ecstatic whoop.
“Can I tell Miss Jessie?”
Dustin grinned unrepentantly. “No.”
Her brows rose upward at the confusing conversation. “What can’t he tell me?”
Dustin’s handsome face was so intent that she felt a fraction of fear slip down her back.
“That he’d eat the cookie.”
14
Dustin was working at his desk when he heard a knock on his office door.
“Come in.” He swiveled his computer chair around as his cousin Drake came inside.
“You got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
His cousin took the only seat in the office beside his desk. “I heard we have a mutual problem.”
“Which one? That you also regret joining The Last Riders, or that you ate at the diner for lunch and the chili gave you indigestion?”
“When are you and your brothers going to quit harping on the fact that I joined The Last Riders?”
Dustin leaned back in his seat, crossing his hands over his abs. “How about when Hell freezes over? That soon enough for you?”
“I don’t know why you all are against me joining them.”
“I don’t know …” Sarcasm dripped off his tongue. “Maybe because Porters don’t like to party on Friday nights?”
“You do know that Rachel is married to Cash, and he’s a Last Rider?” Drake returned the sarcasm with his own.
“Don’t remind me.” Dustin dropped his relaxed pose, turning around to look down at the papers he had been working on before Drake interrupted him. “What do you want?”
“I want to know what we’re going to do about Fynn?”
“Ah … now I see. You blew me off on our appointment to do your business accounting, yet you’re suddenly sitting at my desk, wanting to know what I’m going to do about a problem that involves your kid?”
That Drake was having trouble beyond his control didn’t pass Dustin’s notice. He just didn’t give a fuck.
“I told you that Darcy was sick and I overslept.”
“I sat here, twiddling my thumbs for two hours, and you didn’t even bother to text me that you were sorry. ’Cuz, The Last Riders might not have any manners, but the Porters do.”
“I’m sorry,” Drake ground out through gritted teeth. “Now, can we talk about Fynn? I couldn’t get Darcy out of the back seat this morning when we got to school, because she said she was sick again. Bliss called me after lunch to tell me that she talked to Jessie, and the reason that Darcy might have been so sick lately was because of Fynn.”
“Probably so.” Dustin mentally began tallying a column of figures on a form he was filling out for a client.
“So …?” Frustrated at being ignored, Drake jerked the pen out of Dustin’s hand.
“Chill, Drake. Now, let me get this straight. You want my advice on how to handle your daughter’s bully, but you don’t want my advice on your money? How does that make sense?”
“I let you do my taxes.”
“I know you have a wad of cash not making any interest. You need to trust me that I won’t steer you wrong on investments.”
Dustin could see the wheels turning in his mind.
“Show me.”
“I thought you would never ask.” Grinning, he reached in his desk for a folder he had put together for him.
Over an hour passed before Dustin glanced at the clock on his desk and closed the folder before locking it in his desk.
“Got to go, ’cuz.” Dustin rose, holding the door open for Drake to leave.
“Wait … That’s it?”
“What else is there to say?” Dustin quickly locked his office door, then walked down the corridor with Drake trailing behind him. “If you don’t have a lick of sense in investing in the companies I showed you, then you can do your own taxes.”
“Fine. Do the paperwork. Text me the next appointment you have available.”
Stopping at his car, Dustin slapped Drake on the shoulder. “Good choice! You’re not going to be sorry. You’re going to have a wealthy sum of money when I’m done with you.”
“I hope so … I think. You don’t know anything I don’t know, do you?”
Dustin laughed, smacking him again. “Nope, you’re fine. But you will have to get a physical. It’s a requirement for one of the companies I want you to invest in. They want to know their investors are going to be around for the long haul.”
“Fine.”
“Gotta go. I have to pick Logan up from school. Oh …” Dustin opened his car door, getting inside. “About Fynn. Let the kids handle it. I’m taking a hand-off approach. You should try it.”
Drake brought his hand to the top of Logan’s door, preventing him from closing it. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true. What would you do if Darcy were a boy?”
“I would tell him what I told Cal to do when a bully picked on him at school—beat the fuck out of him at school, so no one will think twice about bothering him again.”
“There you go. That’s the same thing I told Logan.”
“Did it work?”
“So far, he hasn’t picked another fight with Logan, but I did have him moved to another classroom, which isn’t going to work for Darcy. Fynn’s picking on her in the lunchroom.”
“Little son of a bitch. Darcy is too small to beat Fynn in a fight. He’s twice her size!”
“Some of that wad of cash came from fighting. You mean to tell me you can’t show an itty-bitty girl how to defend herself?”
“Dammit, I hate it when you’re right.”
“Just remember, when you have to sit in that fartbag of a principal’s office and listen to him, that you asked for my advice.”
“All right. Thanks, Dustin.”
“See what good manners will get you?”
“Don’t rub it in. I won’t be able to invest all the money. Bliss is going to buy the daycare from Jessie, and I need enough to save for a rainy day.”
“Jessie is selling the daycare?”
“Bliss is trying to talk her out of it, but she seems pretty determined.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Drake released the door at his hard tug.
Dustin saw his cousin standing there, staring after the car as he pulled out of the parking lot, knowing he was curious at the anger he had shown at the news of Jessie planning to sell her daycare.
The woman had put her life’s blood into that business. That she was selling it showed the effect the attack had on her.
He had made so many mistakes with Jessie. Looking back, he hated himself at the time he wasted. He couldn’t go back into the past and change the things he wanted to, but he could keep Jessie from making one she would regret.
Waving at one of the teachers outside, he didn’t bother lowering the wi
ndow as Logan got into the back seat.
“You have a good day?”
Logan clicked his seatbelt before answering, “It was all right. Can we go see Jessie again today?”
“You know, Logan, you just read my mind.”
“Can I be the one to knock?” Excited, Logan ran toward the porch.
“Go for it.” Dustin let Logan go first, hearing the floorboards creak from behind the door as someone approached.
“Jessie, it’s for you!” Asher yelled from over his shoulder. “I guess you can come on in.” The cool reception he gave Dustin didn’t extend to Logan. “How you doing, Logan?”
“Fine. You, sir?” Logan politely asked.
“Pretty good.”
Dustin gave Holt a nod as he and Logan waited by the door. Holt was sitting on the couch, watching television. Dustin wondered if he was waiting to throw him out.
Jessie walked down the hall, her eyes widening at seeing that Dustin had brought Logan two days in a row.
She was wearing a pair sweatpants and a sweatshirt that came to her thighs. Smoothing her hair, she appeared as if she had been sleeping.
“Logan and I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a walk. He has something he wants to show you.”
The self-conscious way she tugged her hair forward to cover the side of her face yanked at his heartstrings.
“I’d love to go for a walk. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll put my boots on.” Turning on her heels, she retreated down the hallway.
“We’re having a barn raising next Saturday. You and Holt are invited. I hope you’ll come. The barn is practically built. Holly is just using it as an excuse to throw a party without having to listen to Greer fuss about it.” Dustin uncomfortably made the first move to bridge the rift that their fathers put between the two families.
“We’ll be there,” Asher grudgingly accepted at Holt’s nod.
The awkward silence was broken by Jessie’s return.
“I’m ready.”
Dustin opened the door as Logan took Jessie’s hand to lead the way.
“Dad invited Asher and Holt to come to the barn raising. Can you come? Dad said I could be the one to ask you.” Logan breathlessly skipped next to Jessie.
“When is it?”
Dustin knew she was trying to think her way out of coming.
“Next Saturday. Please come. You can help me make the punch.”
“Logan, I don’t think—”
“Please?” Logan pleaded.
Feeling ruthless, Dustin didn’t help her out. This would either force her to come or disappoint the child he knew she was attached to.
“You won’t have to work on the barn. Uncle Tate is going to smoke a brisket, and Uncle Greer is going to hire a band to play music,” Logan coaxed, pulling Jessie to a stop as he chivalrously tried to help Jessie over the fence.
Grinning, Dustin stepped closer. “Son, do you mind if I help her?”
Logan’s face fell as he reluctantly gave him Jessie’s hand.
“Don’t forget you promised me that I can show her.”
“I won’t.” Dustin easily lifted Jessie over the fence before climbing it and dropping over to the other side.
Logan took Jessie’s hand back once he was over. “It was my idea, but Dad helped.”
The back of their house came into view as they walked out of the woods. Dustin could see her hesitation as they grew closer, her steps slowing.
“It’s starting to get late, Logan. Maybe you could show me some other day ….”
Dustin didn’t doubt she was trying to avoid the other members of his family. She hadn’t been seen around town since her kidnapping. If anyone could draw Jessie out of her shell, though, it would be Logan.
Dustin was proud of his son. He was empathic to others’ feelings and sought to ease their fears.
“But we’re almost there … Please?” The disappointment on his face had Jessie taking the few necessary steps forward to see what Logan was pointing at.
Stunned, Jessie looked at Logan, then him. “Is that what I think it is?”
Logan clapped his hands, laughing gleefully. “Dad made a mud hole!”
“You really made a mud hole?” Jessie shook her head in dismay. “What are you going to do with a mud patch in your backyard?”
“Dad said we could slide in it! I’ve got my old clothes and boots on.” Logan began stomping in the mud, making big splats that had both him and Jessie taking a few steps back.
Jessie put her hand up, covering her mouth to mumble under her breath, “That’s totally disgusting.”
“That’s hilarious coming from you. You forget the time our pas went on that fishing trip before they started getting jealous about who sold the most weed, and you talked me into wetting down the driveway so we could slide down it on trash can lids? I nearly broke my neck while you stayed at the top of the driveway, laughing your fool head off. It took two weeks for the ground to dry out enough for Pa to get his truck up the driveway.”
“I might have forgotten about that one,” she admitted, looking at the mud hole warily.
“Come on, Miss Jessie!”
“I have a spare pair of boots. They shouldn’t be too big for you. Holly used to wear them when she played in the snow with Logan. She said you could use them.”
Jessie found a dry spot to switch shoes as Dustin showed Logan that he could splash more mud than him. When Logan ended up on his bottom, Dustin’s laughter was cut short when Logan grabbed one of his legs, winding his arms around him until he and the mud sucked Dustin down to his knees. He made a mud pie, throwing it at Logan.
Just as the mud pie fell apart as it hit Logan, Dustin felt cold, slimly water sliding down the back of his neck.
“Woman, that’s called dirty fighting.”
“Logan, do you hear that?” Jessie gave him a triumphant look.
His son rose to his knees with a puzzled frown. “I don’t—”
“It’s the sound of your father being afraid of a little mud.”
Logan fell back laughing, making what looked like mud angels. “A Porter is never afraid. Are we, Dad?”
“Nope, we aren’t.” Dustin let himself fall backward, making a mud angel next to Logan’s.
“Come on, Miss Jessie,” Dustin imitated Logan’s childlike voice.
She wasn’t about to get soaked in mud. “No.”
Dustin suddenly lunged up, grabbing Jessie’s hands until she tripped and fell, sprawled out in the mud.
“You jerk!” Her angry eyes spat at him with vengeance.
“Nuh-uh … You don’t get to sit on the sidelines anymore without getting a little dirty yourself,” he crowed at her expression.
“Really?” she asked sweetly. Too sweetly.
He should have known better.
A second later, he was spitting out a clump of mud that she had nailed him with.
“Logan?”
“Yes?” He giggled.
Dustin’s grin broadened. “Let’s get her.”
He and Logan pretended to gang up on Jessie, but it wasn’t long before both of them were begging for mercy. She had just lobbed a spectacular mud ball at Dustin’s gut when he looked up to see Holly and Greer staring at them in horror.
“Have you three lost your flipping minds?” Revolted, Greer made sure he was standing behind Holly, so no mud could come near him.
“Uncle Greer, come in! We can get Dad!”
“Hell no.” Greer took another step backward.
“Holly?” Logan pleaded.
“I’m not exactly dressed for a mud fight,” Holly demurred, trying not to look as disgusted as Greer.
“Go change! We’ll wait.” Dustin splayed out in the mud, resting on his elbows.
“I have dinner to fix. Perhaps another time.”
“There’s no time like the present.”
Before they could react, Dustin lifted the water hose, letting Holly and Greer have it.
“Greer?” Dripping wet, Holly t
oed off her shoes.
“What?” Greer roared, his deputy uniform plastered to his body.
Dustin sniggered at his brother, who looked like a drowned rat.
“Get him!”
Dustin thought the water hose would be a deterrent. He was wrong.
Greer walked into the mud, shiny boots and all, toward him, despite him turning the water on high. Struggling to retain his hold on the slippery hose, he lost to Greer when Greer planted a booted foot on his chest, pinning him to the mud.
Greer wasn’t given time to savor his victory before Jessie began pelting him with mud pies.
“That’s my husband you’re hitting!” Holly couldn’t restrain herself from giggling, ruining the effect she was going for at pretending to be a protective wife.
While she was laughing, one of the mud pies that Jessie had made accidentally hit Holly, splattering her snow-white blouse.
Dustin quit struggling with Greer to sit and watch Holly and Jessie get in a mud fight.
Greer sat down in the mud next to him.
When Logan tried to join in the fun with Jessie and Holly, Dustin pulled him down onto his lap.
“But I want to play,” Logan said, trying to get up.
“Boy, sit down,” Greer hissed. “Leave the women alone.”
“Why?” Logan asked innocently.
“I’ll tell you in about ten years. Until then, sit still and let your pa and me enjoy the show.”
15
“I surrender! You win!” Jessie called it quits on the tussle she was having with Holly.
Resting on the clump of mud, she was catching her breath when the sound of another motor came up the driveway.
Appalled that someone else was going to see her covered in the revolting mud, she tried to get up, only to find her butt sucked right back down.
She was trying to use the sleeve of her sweatshirt to swipe some of the mud from her face when Tate came around the corner.
“I was wondering what was taking Sutton so long to get home. She kept texting me that she was on her way from watching Rosie. Now I see what she’s been doing—watching you fools.”
