Page 89

Her mouth twitches. She pats my hand once. She clears her throat and then she unlocks the car, and I take that as my cue to get out. But when my feet hit the ground and I close the door behind me, she doesn’t drive off.

Instead, she leans over the center console, a steadying hand planted on the passenger seat as she peers at me through the open window. “In my opinion,” she starts, and I brace. “Anyone who loves my son like that is more than enough.”

“ Okay .” I huff, dropping an armful of charred wood so I can plant both hands on an equine flank and shove. “Personal space, my guy.”

Ruin snorts as he shuffles even closer to me. Never heard of it.

Though I roll my eyes, I’m smiling. And even though a clingy horse is deeply disruptive, I can’t help but be awestruck. Proud. Mind-blown that this is the same horse who could barely stand a brush-down only a short few months ago.

“He’s come a long way,” Yasmin voices my thoughts, and I smile a little harder. I share one with her, chuckling quietly as I gesture to the ash streaked across her cheek.

Both of us have been out here since dawn—all of us have, the other ranch hands and my sisters too. Cleaning up the rubble littering the yard, erasing the physical remnants of what happened barely a day ago, trying to pass the time until the visiting hours at the hospital finally start.

I don’t think anyone slept. I sure as shit didn’t.

I stayed up all night, perched on the wide windowsill of my old attic room, staring at the dirt road leading to the house and waiting for a familiar truck to rumble down it.

It didn’t matter that the sheriff stationed a couple of officers here all night in case the Webers and their new best fucking friends came back—it mattered that they could come back.

That they’re still out there. That they might just get away with trying to ruin my life—with succeeding, in some ways, because what the fuck do I feel after their attempt, if not a little ruined?

Sweating despite the winter chill, I drop an armful of charred wood so I can shrug off my overshirt.

Immediately, I regret it.

Because immediately, a decidedly unmanly shriek echoes across the yard.

“ What in the fuck happened to your arm? ”

Cursing beneath my breath, I turn to the man picking his way across the rubble littering the yard. In the light of day, I can barely stand to look at the carnage, so I keep my gaze on the sour expression twisting my brother’s face. “It’s a fashion statement.”

Scoffing, Jackson wraps his fingers around the crook of my elbow, lifting my arm to inspect the bandage wrapped around my bicep and the sterile dressing spanning the curve of my shoulder. “No one told me you got hurt.”

I wriggle free of his grip, his distress turning my stomach. “I’m fine.”

“ Lux .” Half-turning as he hollers, Jackson stabs an accusing finger at our sister. “Did you know she was hurt?”

“She said her hand was fine.”

Jackson whips around to face me again. “What happened to your hand?”

My seared palm stings as I curl it into a fist and hide it behind my back. “Nothing.”

He huffs. He rakes his hand through his hair before bracing them on his hips, jaw tight as he drops his chin. “Did you at least get that checked out?”

“I rubbed some dirt in it and called it a day.”

He briefly looks to the sky, pleading for strength. “Charlotte.”

“Yes, father . I did. Got a lollipop for being good and everything.”

Jackson snorts. “That’s the dentist, smart ass.”

I just shrug.

Rolling his eyes, Jackson palms the top of my head before dragging me to his side, careful not to touch my injured limb.

I tense, my skin crawling as it barely tolerates the touch, but I let the half-hug happen.

I figure that as much as I don’t need it, Jackson does—I hear it in a shaky inhale, and the way his voice catches when he asks, “You’re sure you’re okay? ”

I’m not, but I nod anyway.

Jackson knows damn well I’m lying, but he lets me off.

“If you weren’t, if—” He swallows, his chin digging into the top of my head. “If something happened to you, it would wreck me. Us. You know that, yeah?”

Thick emotion loosens the rigid set of my spine.

“Yeah,” I ask more than I answer, and Jackson’s grip tightens.

“Lux would resurrect you just to kick your ass.”

That draws a wobbly laugh out of me.

“I would help.”

I snicker again, dropping my head to his shoulder as I weave an arm around his waist.

“Because I’d be really fucking pissed that you missed the birth of another one of my kids.”

It takes a second for his quiet proclamation to sink in.

When it does, I reel back, eyes wide and jaw slack. “Luna’s pregnant?”

A butter-soft smile curving his mouth, Jackson nods. “We just found out.”

“Who else knows?”

“No one.”

“Lux?”

“Just you, kid.”

God, does that settle beneath my skin and create the loveliest burn. “So a near-death experience is all it takes to become the favorite, huh?”

“Will you shut up with that shit?”

“Yeah.” Our heads both snap towards Lux as she approaches, adding another armful of debris to the rapidly growing pile. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me.”

“Is cockiness a symptom of withdrawal?”

I snort, pinching Eliza semi-gently as she ducks beneath my other arm, earning a hissed warning to be careful that she rolls her eyes at.

As Lux settles on Jackson’s other side, I dip into her back pocket to steal her phone, ignoring her huff when I thumb in her passcode before pulling up Grace’s contact.

The moment I hit call, a ringtone cuts through the air.

A rough goddammit follows.

Before I can turn around, someone plasters themselves to my back, a head squeezing its way between mine and Eliza’s. “I literally got the taxi to drop me a half mile up the road so I could surprise you and you ruined it .”

My face caught somewhere between a smile and a frown, I twist to gape at Grace. “What’re you doing here?”

“You almost got burnt to a crisp, dummy,” she huffs as she wraps her arms around my middle and squeezes hard. “Of course I’m here.”

Of course.

My chest aches.

Grace hugs me harder, smacking a great, big dramatic kiss on my cheek before facing forward. A hissed breath whistles through her teeth. “Shit. It’s really gone.”

Something akin to a whimper leaves Eliza, and four hands pat her comfortingly.

Peering around me, Grace asks Lux, “What’re you gonna do?”

A long, unsure breath leaves her. “I don’t know.”

I glance over my shoulder at the horses grazing nearby—more than we have room for now. We’re lucky it was mild last night so leaving them in the paddock was a reasonable option, but in no way a feasible permanent one. “Are you getting rid of them?”

Her face creases with confliction, something softly defensive in her tone. “I don’t really have a choice. I’ve already made some calls about rehoming them.”

“Which ones?”

Lux doesn’t respond. She doesn’t know. Which ones to choose nor how to choose them.

With the arm I have wrapped around Jackson, I reach for her, fisting the soft wool of her sweater. “We’ll figure it out.”

Fingers curling around mine and squeezing, she shoots me a grateful look.

Patting Eliza’s shoulder soothingly, Grace suggests, “We can get them back once we rebuild.”

Again, Lux’s expression wrinkles.

I frown at her. “You don’t want to rebuild?”

“Maybe…” She chews on her bottom lip—choosing her words carefully, I can tell. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I’ve been stretched so thin for years, y’know? Maybe this is a sign.”

“But you love the rescue side of things.”

“Not as much as you do.”

“What?”

My older siblings exchange a loaded look before Lux’s gaze flits back to me. “You love horses, Lottie. That’s the only reason we ever started taking them in.”

Shock parts my lips. “Really?”

Lux nods. Jackson nods. Fucking Grace and Eliza nod too, completely unsurprised and snickering a little, like they’re amused that I didn’t know.

Blinking away the sudden itch making my eyes water, I swallow the lump in my throat and drop my temple to my brother’s shoulder again, reaching around the back of him to clasp my older sister too, squeezing her wrist in a silent thanks because I don’t think a verbal one would come out all that coherently.

She squeezes me back, saying nothing, and no one else says anything either. The five of us are silent as we stare at the remnants of such an enormous part of our life.

Eliza sniffs. “This feels like the end of an era or something.”

“Maybe it’s the start of a new one.”

I manage to keep my mouth shut for a grand total of three seconds. “That was a little cringe.”

A long-suffering sigh leaves my brother. “Shut up, Charlotte.”