Page 47 of The Oath We Give

I place the gun inside the bag, zipping it up and throwing it over my shoulder, evading the burning sun beyond the pines.

When I make it through the back door of my parents’ home, I know I won’t be able to leave quickly because Rook’s voice is echoing from the kitchen. Great, fucking fantastic. It’ll be an hour before we’re out of the door.

“It’ll take two minutes. Just let me give you a trim.”

When I enter, my mother is tugging at the strands of Rook’s hair, standing on her tippy-toes, inspecting the length down to his scalp like he’s a child and she’s checking for head lice.

“I’m growing it out, Ma,” he mutters, grinning, seconds from probably telling her yes. He’s always had a problem telling her no.

“This was much easier when you were little and couldn’t say no.”

“Is that before or after you gave him a bowl cut?” My voice announces my presence as I watch them from the entryway.

“It was not a bowl cut! It was cute.” She swats her hand in my direction, waving me off and letting Rook go from her motherly inspection. “What trouble are you two getting into tonight?”

Rook smirks, rubbing his hands together, and I answer before he has a chance to shove his foot into his mouth and give my mom a heart attack.

“Poker.” I clear my throat. “With some friends.”

Her warm, hazel eyes crinkle gently at the corners, and she shakes her head a little. I don’t know if she suspects I’m lying or not. She’d probably tell people she knows when I am, but I’ve been lying to her most of my life, and she’s never noticed, or maybe that’s because she didn’t have a reason to.

Zoe Hawthorne glows with a soft touch of time and experience, fading into her later years with grace. Empathy pours from every smile. Everything about her is motherly, and I’ve been lucky to have her.

All the guys are, especially Rook.

He’s her favorite by far.

The kitchen light shines on her brown hair, gentle streaks of silver at her roots that she refuses to dye. She likes the gray, says it makes her look regal.

“While you’re out, Rook, maybe you can convince my son to bring hisfiancéearound sometime. Apparently, we aren’t good enough to have an introduction.” Her voice is playful, letting me know she’s joking, but deep down, I know this entire situation has upset her.

“Soon, Mom. I promise.”

As soon as I choose a wife.

This week’s family dinner was spent grilling me. Wedding plans, who my soon-to-be wife was, why I hadn’t told them about it. Thankfully, by some act of God, Daniel hadn’t mentioned it to my father at work just yet, but it’s only a matter of time before this blows up in my face.

My plan as of now is simple.

I’m going to tell them the truth about Coraline. She’d been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, unaware of my upcoming nuptials, and tried to be a good friend by helping scare away a nosey colleague.

Which, if it goes well, should buy me just enough time to go through a list of eligible, decent women willing to be in an arranged marriage for at least two years. On paper, that sounds impossible. In Ponderosa Springs?

It’ll be easy.

Most of the daughters and sisters who remain here, what, to get ahead? Want to be the best, and the way you do that around here? Money. I just so happen to have a lot of it.

However, there is one woman in particular, one that seems to hate the idea of being tied to my money. Which is funny, considering she’s the only one I want.

Out of pure convenience. She understands what’s at stake, knows about Stephen. We have a mutual enemy, and that would make us great partners.

“Well, be safe tonight. Dad’s going to be upset he missed you, but I don’t want to wake him.” She pulls Rook into a tight hug that he returns, kissing him on the cheek softly. “Thank you for my flowers, sweet boy. Take care of my baby.”

“Always, Ma,” Rook mutters, letting her squeeze a little tighter than normal before pulling away.

When she walks toward me to give me the same love, I look down at her.

“I’m an adult, you know?”