Page 37

Performed by Nate Smith

I’d made it to the airport in Bakersfield in record time, only to have the flight delayed due to a car accident holding the pilot up. We sat on the tarmac for way too long while anger and nerves practically crawled through my skin. When we did finally get off the ground, the flight was an agony of wasted time. I needed my arms around my daughter. Around Sadie. Goddamn it, they’d faced a gun. Been bruised and battered. And I’d been thousands of damn miles away.

“This isn’t your fault,” Lauren said as I paced the aisle.

But wasn’t it? I’d sent them away, thinking I was keeping them safe. Why hadn’t I realized Adam would follow them across the country to get his hands on the jewels? To get back at me by using them?

“She’s right, Rafe. This isn’t your fault. We all thought he’d done a runner.” Steele’s voice held a bit of anger in it, and I narrowed my gaze on him. “You did the right thing. We all thought if he came back for anyone, it would be you at the ranch. No one expected them to show up in Willow Creek. Not even Puzo thought that. Otherwise, he would have sent his men in that direction, and I know for a fact he didn’t.”

None of his words could ease one ounce of the anger and guilt I felt.

After landing in Tennessee, we had nearly a two-hour drive from the private airport to Willow Creek that continued my hell. When we finally pulled into the driveway of the Hatley ranch, it had been more than twelve hours since Sadie and my daughter had faced the very worst.

The wrought-iron gate with its bucking bronco and the Hatley name opened to a paved drive lined with fully grown elms. The trees broke away to reveal a light-blue farmhouse with white trim, a slate-gray tiled roof, and a wraparound porch. The road led around the house to the rear, where a large addition jutted out from the back of it. On a pair of golden oak doors etched with stained glass, another wrought-iron sign hung. This one read Sweet Willow Restaurant in curving, vine-like letters.

If I hadn’t shown up on Sadie’s doorstep under such horrible circumstances, I would have been able to appreciate the charm more. Our family’s ranch was a neat and tidy, old-English estate, whereas this was warmth and Southern grace.

The parking lot was nearly full, but Steele found a spot at the back near a barn even bigger than ours, painted a light blue that matched the house. A large metal H hung from below the pitched roof in the same font as the words on the gate.

As we emerged from the car, the back door of the farmhouse opened, and a man in his fifties, with dark-blond hair streaked with gray, made his way out to greet us. He introduced himself as Sadie’s father, Brandon. His gaze rested on me for long enough that I wondered how much his daughter had told him about us. But there was no heat in his expression. No anger or judgment, even though it was my family who’d brought evil to their doorstep.

He led us inside, and Fallon launched herself at me. I caught her, the scent I’d come to associate with her wafting over me—innocence and sunshine. Except, now it was tainted with antiseptic. I squeezed her tight. Every ounce of love I felt, every ounce of gratitude that she was safe, poured into the embrace. Then, Lauren pushed herself in, and I hugged them both, silently promising myself and them that they’d never have to face these kinds of challenges without me again.

When we finally pulled apart and I could get a good look at Fallon, my teeth ground together viciously. She had a large bruise at her temple, her face was pale, and she had shadows under her eyes. But those brown depths were full of fire. And that finally eased some of the tightness that had gripped my heart ever since I’d talked to Ryder, and he’d told me the camera at the bar had gone dark.

As Lauren held on to our daughter, my gaze searched the warm farmhouse kitchen, noting immediately what was missing. The person who was missing. The woman I needed to hold to me so the remaining pressure on my heart could lift.

No one mentioned her. No one even said her name as Fallon introduced us to Eva Hatley. The woman insisted we sit down at the long oak table scarred by years of family dinners and plied us with food and drink I couldn’t swallow. She fussed over us in a way that spoke of that hearth and home the ranch exuded from the moment you drove up.

I wasn’t sure we’d ever had that kind of love drifting over us at the Harrington Ranch. Even before Mom had died, she’d been more the flighty, artistic type than the bread-baking, cuddling type. She’d loved Spence and me and never once held back saying it, but it always felt like we were watching a butterfly dance from flower to flower as she drifted through our lives.

And Dad had never been emotional. Hard. Determined. I wasn’t sure he’d said he loved us ever. He’d needed Spence, been disappointed in me, and he’d loved the land. When I saw my parents together, I didn’t know how they’d ever fallen for each other.

Eva and Brandon Hatley were the complete opposite. Affectionate, with love all but pouring from them. He was constantly touching her. Little skims of hands, assurances, and soft looks. She did the same in return. Their love boomed through the room like a sonic wave, vibrating through anyone it crossed. Sadie would have been showered with it growing up.

Doubts filled me. I wondered if the coldness and distance I’d learned from my dad and then cloaked myself with after I’d left the ranch would leak onto Sadie if I tied her to me. Would she look at me as Mom had once looked at Dad? As if she’d lost something she thought she’d been given? Would her words sound like the ones of Great-grandma Beatrice’s in her journal. An agony of loneliness?

No. I refused to believe that. I’d shower her with even more goddamn love than her parents had. I’d wrap her in it so it was the only thing she ever felt.

“Where’s Sadie?” I demanded, knowing it sounded aggressive and not even sure I cared. I needed to know where the hell she was, needed proof she, like Fallon, had only minor injuries that would heal if the emotional ones didn’t hang on too tight.

Eva darted a look at Brandon, who dragged a hand over the scruff on his chiseled cheeks.

“She went to the bar,” Eva said with a sigh.

“She’s working?” I barked. “Why the hell is she working?”

Eva’s eyes settled on me with the same assessing gaze her husband had given me outside but taking it deeper, going beyond all my walls to the truth beneath. It was as if, like her daughter, she had a bit of siren or fae in her, allowing her to read my thoughts and emotions and intentions before I even knew them. Finally, she said, “I imagine you’ve come to know my daughter pretty well in the last week, Rafe. You tell me why she’s working.”

She would have been unable to sit still. Her mind would have been full of emotions, the scene from the bar on repeat in her head. She would have needed to dive in. To help. And she’d have blamed herself for what happened. I’d asked her to protect my daughter, and she’d think she had failed. Just as I’d thought I’d failed. We were both right and wrong at the same time.

I turned to Steele. “Give me the car keys.”

He didn’t even hesitate. He just dug them out of his pocket and tossed them. I caught them one-handed and rose from the table. I tugged on Fallon’s braid. “You okay here for a bit, Ducky?”

She gave me that cheeky smile I adored—the one I had been afraid might not show up again for a while after what she’d been through today. “I’m good with the Hatleys and Mom and Jim. But she thinks you’re letting her go, Dad. I don’t know what you said to her before we left California, but she’s been eating herself up with it. Don’t be a dick. Make sure she knows you love her.”

“Fallon,” Lauren warned, but it was with laughter in her voice.

When I looked around the room, I saw the same in the other adults’ faces. But the laughter in the Hatleys’ gazes also included a warning that screamed, Don’t mess with our daughter .

I was halfway down the porch steps when Eva caught up with me. She handed me a velvet, drawstring bag. “These are the jewels my grandmother had that seem to belong to you.”

I took them, swallowing. “Thank you.”

“There’s also a ring in there that belonged to Carolyn. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t part of your set. The stones are too different, but it was made in the same era. It’s been through a lot, that ring. It was given to people who lived the best and the worst days after receiving it, and it was taken from our family for a while. It found its way home though. I’d like you to have it. I’d like you to give it to Sadie when you make her yours.”

My throat clogged. “She’s already mine, Mrs. Hatley. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry it might mean I take her away for months at a time because I can’t stand the thought of spending even one more minute without her at my side.”

To my surprise, she smiled, large and bright. “All I’ve ever wanted for my children was for them to have the love I’ve been lucky enough to find with Brandon. If they have that, everything else that happens in life is just icing on the cake or rotten eggs, both easily thrown out. If you have a love that sticks, it’ll get you through anything. You give that to Sadie, you stick, and I’ll be one happy mama. Just like the ring, Sadie will always be able to find her way home when we need her or when she needs us. I’m counting on you to make sure she doesn’t need us very often.”

She shocked me again by hugging me and then stepped back.

“Maddox said the crime scene was cleared, and Sadie went to clean it up. Her bartender, Ted, called Brandon a while ago and told us half the town showed up to help. Everyone’s trying to make her feel like nothing bad ever happened there, right down to the normal band showing up to play. That’s Willow Creek for you.”

She was trying to make me feel better in knowing Sadie wasn’t alone. That she hadn’t had to deal with the blood and memories on her own, but it didn’t work. It only made me feel worse I hadn’t been there to pitch in like she’d pitched in last week for me…for my family.

Eva squeezed my arm. “She wasn’t planning on spending the night here at the ranch. That’s not unusual as, more nights than not, she sleeps at my family’s old house in town so she doesn’t have to drive out here after closing the bar.” She waited a bit and then winked and said, “I don’t expect we’ll see either of you tonight.”

It took me a second for the realization of what she’d said to sink in, and then I couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped me—the first laugh in going on fourteen hours.

“Don’t disappoint me by showing back up.” Eva’s smile widened, and I realized how much Sadie looked like her, right down to the mischievous fire in her eyes.

After she whirled around and returned to the house with the same vibrant energy as her daughter, I stared down at the velvet bag in my hand. Inside were the jewels that had left our home eighty years ago and started a feud that had taken decades to resolve. They’d nearly cost my daughter and the woman I loved their lives and almost cost me mine. But like the ring Eva talked about, the jewels had found their way home, and they’d brought Sadie to me. I’d said it before, thought it before, but maybe that had truly been their purpose all along. Maybe the fates had been pulling strings back when Alasdair laid down his royal flush and snagged the ranch from Tommy Hurly to begin with.

I found there was power and hope in that notion.

Sadie was mine. I was hers.

Now, I just had to prove it to her.

The map on my phone led me back through the windy hills studded with ranches, past the exit to a lake, and past the Willow Creek sign declaring it was the home of football heroes, rock stars, and ranchers. I hadn’t noticed the town when we’d driven through it on our way to the Hatleys. My eyes had been focused on my phone and the directions leading us to my daughter and Sadie. But the lantern-shaped lampposts casting a warm glow over the cobblestones and the brick shops held a quaint vibe that reminded me a whole helluva lot like the town I’d grown up in.

The GPS directed me past the stores to the edge of town where McFlannigan’s sat on a corner. Every parking space on both sides of the street was taken, and I could hear music streaming from it even with the car windows up. I turned down a side street only to find the parking lot in the back was as full as the front. I bit my cheek as the desperate need to see her, hold her, kiss her, grew to a boiling point.

I finally found a spot down past a dilapidated apartment building and jogged toward the front of the bar in heavy, magnolia-scented air. The McFlannigan’s sign glowed warm against the brick-and-stone front, and for a brief second, I hesitated. Would I have the right words to convince Sadie to forgive me? To convince her I’d made a plan for our future because I’d always known we belonged together? To reassure her I’d never again let her go? I’d rip my heart out and hand it over to her before I left her again. Before I left this town without her with me.

Would that be enough when she deserved so much more?

When I finally opened the door, I was immediately hit with sounds and scents I knew well. Chatter eased by alcohol. The clink of glasses. The smell of fried food from the bar’s kitchen. Music. Country music that had never been my go-to, even in my youth, but had hovered around me ever since I’d watched an imp with bluebell-colored eyes dance in my bar.

I scanned the faces for Sadie and came up empty. My jaw clenched, worry coasting through me. I made my way to the bar, shrugged off my suit jacket, and hung it over the back of the stool. I sat down at the shiny, lacquered bar, tapping my fingers along the surface as I continued to search the crowd for the one person I’d come for.

“What can I get ya?” the bartender asked. He looked as old as the bar, with white hair, a mustache that could have easily graced a wanted poster from the 1800s, and skin that looked like crinkled leather. What had Eva said his name was? Tom? Tim? Ted.

“Bourbon. Neat. The most expensive you have.”

Sadie had liked my bourbon. What did she serve here? Would it be the cheap, Tennessee knockoff I didn’t consider actual alcohol?

Ted didn’t take offense at the attitude dripping from my words. He didn’t look like he got upset about anything. I wasn’t even sure he was real.

While I waited, I took in the dust-covered décor, the cracked vinyl booths, and the floors that needed refinishing. They didn’t deserve Sadie any more than I did. She was too bright. Too big. Too beautiful for them, but I doubted she’d see it that way.

More likely, she’d think I didn’t deserve to be sitting on her worn leather stool.

Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t deserve to have her accept my apology, to have me go down on one knee and beg her to come away with me. But what I deserved and what I got hadn’t been the same thing for a long time. I wasn’t giving her up now that I’d found her. Not when I had a plan to give her everything she wanted and more.

I must have made a noise, grunted to myself or something, because the bartender raised an eyebrow as he set down my drink. I ignored him and picked up the glass, twirling it in the dim light. I was startled to see he’d served it to me in Baccarat crystal, and when I took a sip, I was astonished again to taste one of my favorite brands instead of the cheap stuff.

It made me take a closer look at my surroundings. All the decanters on the shelves were crystal. The bar back was a delight of stained glass, beveled mirrors, aged wood, and carved pillars. The lighting needed improvement, leaving the place broody and ominous instead of rich and luxurious, but that was an easy fix. The crown molding and decorative detail needed refinishing just like the sticky bar top, but if I squinted, I could see how it had all been elegant in its day. Expensive and old. And I knew old. The Harringtons had done their best to surround themselves in it, hadn’t they?

The sound system had been blaring when I’d walked in, and now a band took the stage. I groaned internally as live country music winged through the room. The male artist dove right in, crowing about relationships gone bad, dead dogs, his grandfather’s truck, and a broken heart.

I couldn’t handle the idea I’d broken Sadie’s heart, even temporarily. Just as I couldn’t handle the idea of Sadie stomping her boots to music just like this with burly men joining her. Men just like the ones she’d been teaching to line dance in my piano bar. Determination hardened inside me. She’d promised me all her last dances, and I’d be damned if she went back on it. I’d be damned if she gave them to anyone else.

I pulled out my wallet, put five crisp hundred dollar bills out on the bar, and said, “I’ll pay another five if you can get the band to stop.”

The bartender’s smile stretched wide. He glanced at the money, squinted at my face, and then threw the towel he was using over his shoulder before slipping out from behind the bar to join the lead singer on stage. The scruffy kid didn’t look happy when he glanced my way, but he took the money and stormed off.

“Sorry, folks. Our nightly entertainment has been put on hold for now,” Ted said into the mic.

Groans and moans echoed through the packed house.

All I could think was how blessed the silence was. It gave me a moment to think. To plan. To come up with a really good line Sadie wouldn’t be able to say no to.

“What the hell happened to the music?” the smooth, sexy voice I’d heard in my dreams filled the bar, and my insides clenched. My dick hardened. My heart beat increased by a thousand-fold.

I knew what she’d look like before I even turned around.

Her eyes would be flashing warning signs. Her artfully shaped brows would be drawn together. And that utterly kissable mouth would be pulled down at the corners. It was the way she’d looked at me multiple times in the week we’d spent together.

But the way she’d looked spread out on my bed, the way she’d looked with the moonlight feasting on her just as I did…that was the reason I was sitting at a sticky bar, thinking about all the ways I could convince her to give me another chance. I’d spend thousands of dollars here, on a venture that made absolutely no goddamn sense, on anything she wanted, if she’d only forgive me for bringing pain and heartache and death to her door. If only she’d say yes to being mine forever.