by Penny Reid
“We told you to leave, old man. This place ain’t yours. It wasn’t Momma’s neither when she died. She sold it.” Beau said this standing on the stairs of the porch just in front of me with Duane at his shoulder.
“Sold it?” Darrell shot an angry glance at Beau, and I felt the moment that he realized I was there, the second his eyes settled on mine. “Ashley, girl, look at you.” He placed a hand over his chest like the sight of me made his heart hurt. “You’re beautiful.”
I stared at him from my place next to Roscoe, drawing from my little brother’s strength.
“Your daddy needs to speak to you, Baby.”
“Don’t you speak to her.” Drew stepped forward, though he’d been quiet up to this point.
My father ignored him, kept his voice calm. A beseeching smile—such a pretty smile—tempered his features as he said, “Come here, baby girl. I can see that you’ve been crying. I know your momma loved you best. Come to your daddy so I can make it better.”
I saw so much of myself in him, in his gently spoken words, his eyes and smile, how he moved, how he sounded when he was trying to appear sincere. It made my stomach turn.
“Jethro, you make him leave, or I’m going to arrest him.” Drew’s threat was quietly spoken, but it felt like a gunshot in the thick, tense dwindling light.
“How are you going to manage that?” Darrell turned his smile on Drew, but now it was more like a smirk. “This is my house, son. This is my family.”
“This is not your family, and don’t call me son.” Drew’s words were eerily stoic and emotionless.
“Darrell,” Cletus drawled, sounding oddly at ease. I thought for a moment that Cletus was going to put his hand on my father’s shoulder, but instead he gestured toward Drew. “This here is a federal officer, and you’re on his land. You see, he purchased this house some time ago. Now, according to Tennessee law, even if he weren’t an officer, he could shoot you dead right now—if he felt threatened.”
“That’s right,” Beau put in, “and we’d all be witnesses.”
“That’s right,” Duane echoed his twin. “That’s seven witnesses.”
I saw a brief shadow of confusion and apprehension fall over my father’s handsome features. He glared at Cletus—he never liked Cletus—then his eyes cut to Drew’s.
“Those are lies. Bethany couldn’t have sold this house, not without me knowing.” His attention moved back to me as though I were the family litmus test of truth. He didn’t seem to like what he saw, because his eyes grew large then narrowed. He lifted a finger and pointed at Drew but his eyes never left mine. “Is this your man?”
“Darrell Winston, get off my property. This is the last time I’m telling you.” Drew stepped forward and Jethro flanked him. I didn’t want Drew to touch him. He was an awful, evil man, and I didn’t want Drew to have any contact with him.
I walked out from Roscoe’s hold and stood in the center of the porch, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yes, Darrell. That’s my man. And he just told you to get off his property. There is nothing for you here. All the money is gone. The house belongs to Drew. Momma left you a checking account with exactly sixty-three dollars in it. That’s enough money for you to buy a tank of gas, a six-pack of beer, and get out of town.”
“Ashley, did your momma give you my house?” My father was shouting now, and his smile was gone. Even in the stark twilight, I could see his face growing red.
“No.” I shook my head. “No, she didn’t. She left us nothing.” Nothing except peace of mind, love, memories, laughter, wisdom…and Drew.
My father backed up as Drew, Cletus, and Jethro strolled forward, yet his gaze was affixed to me. “This ain’t over. You think just ’cause I’m leaving this is over, but it ain’t. This house is mine. That money is mine. You are all mine. You belong to me. What’s yours is mine. You’re my blood.”
“You ain’t shit.” Billy spat.
“Shut your mouth, William.” My father was even with the door to his car now; he turned a snarl on Billy, his blue eyes flashing mean and wicked at his son who might as well have been his physical clone. “I’ve beat you once, and I’ll beat you again.”
Billy surprised us all by laughing. “You think I couldn’t have fought back, old man? I was twelve, but I knew where the rat poison was kept. I let you beat me. It was the only way to get you out of our lives. You hit Momma, but she would’ve taken it forever. You hit one of her babies, she became a momma bear.”
I was gratified to realize that I wasn’t the only one staring at Billy with shock and wonder. It seemed none of my brothers had known that Billy was the architect of our freedom, and at twelve years old.
My father made a movement like he was getting ready to charge at Billy, but Jethro and Cletus blocked his path and pushed him back to his car.
“It’s time to go,” Jethro said, pointing at our father.
“Yes. It’s time for you to go,” Cletus said, then he pointed at the wheels of Darrell’s car and added, “But it might also be time for you to invest in a new set of tires. At least get them rotated for the safety of other vehicles on the road.”
Darrell scowled at his third son then he aimed his anger at me. “This ain’t over. I’ll be back.”
He slammed the door to his black Mustang and peeled out of our gravel driveway. We all watched the car until it left the property and pulled onto Moth Run Road. Then we waited until it was out of sight. Even then, we all stood in our places for several long seconds.
Cletus was the first to move. He walked to Drew and clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Andrew. You two will make beautiful children.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
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.
