Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(71)
“What’s up?”
“It’s Dad—I totally forgot to pick up Mom’s prescription before I came out here this morning. Fuck. Now I’ll have to find the time….” As she stares off toward a tree line beyond the closest hayfield, I swear I can see the gears turning in her brain.
“Does she need it right away?” I ask. “If not, I can grab it when I’m done here. Bring it over tonight.”
She shakes her head no. “Well…she doesn’t need it until tomorrow, but fuck, I can’t believe I forgot—yes, I can. I forget everything.”
“Hey.” I interrupt her runaway train of words. “I’ll pick it up.”
“You will?” She bends down, letting her pristine, painted fingers dance across my filthy jawline.
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she whispers against my lips before planting one last kiss.
Blair turns to walk away and I lean back against the bumper, watching her practically skip across the grass, with dark hair bouncing over her shoulders. Opening the car door, she turns to look in my direction, and her fingers leave the metal door edge in a half wave before she slips inside and drives off.
The dust hasn’t settled from her leaving, and I’m picking up the phone to call her dad. I might not be able to lessen the pain of giving up her life to move here, or the devastation that comes with knowing your mom is dying, but I can pick up prescriptions and help with her nephew. I can check a box on her to-do list. It’s not enough, but it’s what I have to give. So I make polite small talk with Frank Hart, wrap up the phone call by asking for his younger daughter’s phone number, then clear my plan with Blair’s sister, Whit.
Denny: Need you to go pick something up for me
Colt: Right now? What is it?
Denny: A 10-year-old up in Wells Canyon. Bring him to the ranch and give him some chores to do.
Colt: That sounds like a crime.
Denver: Don’t make it creepy, and you’ll be fine. It’s Blair’s nephew.
Then I finish the oil change and strip out of the filthy coveralls before heading over to the big house. Heat waves radiate off the gravel, and there’s a slight hint of smoke in the air from a forest fire raging a few valleys over. Between the heat and unseasonably dry conditions, we’re in for a doozy of a summer. Possibly even worse than the drought and crappy haying season we had last year.
Brushing dirt from my pants at the bottom of the porch stairs, I stick my tongue out at Odessa, who’s currently fucking with some flowers she’s definitely not supposed to be fucking with.
And she knows it.
“Uncle Denny,” she yells, jumping up with a startled expression, pretending she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Oh, Kaaaate,” I sing—not loud enough for Kate to actually hear, given how loud the music is blasting inside the house. I just want to scare the kid straight.
“No!” Odessa charges toward me. “Don’t call her. I wasn’t doing nothin’.”
“Quit fuckin’ with the flowers, or your mom and aunties are going to kill you.”
She puts her hands on her hips and stares me down. “Swear jar.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I tousle her hair. “Serious, though. I won’t have your back if you wreck the flowers right before the wedding.”
Heading inside, it’s no surprise to find the women, along with Cecily’s mom, frantically prepping food. Once again, I’m questioning if they understand the meaning of “low-key,” but this doesn’t seem like a good time to call them out. Instead, I make eye contact with Austin, raising my brows at the commotion.
Openly singing along to Dolly Parton, I scooch past Beryl and Cecily to get to the coffee machine, then back again to sit across from my brother. Dropping the loose change from my pocket into Odessa’s swear jar on the way by.
“How full of regret are you about asking her to marry you?” I ask Aus, tilting my head in the direction of the gaggle of women huddled around the kitchen island.
“No regrets.”
“Not even about choosing to have coffee here even though your house has perfectly good coffee and a quieter kitchen?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, bringing the white mug, full to the brim, to his lips. Then he mumbles, “I’ll put up with the loud to make her happy.”
If that isn’t the most raw thing I’ve ever heard my brother say. But I get it, because I would put up with my worst nightmares for Blair with zero hesitation.
Denver: Reminder: I’m coming over tonight
Denver: No nude, because I think my family would frown on that at the kitchen table
Denver: And remove Jonas from your list, I got it covered and cleared it with Whit.
Denver: Yes, I know you could’ve handled it yourself, but now you don’t have to.
Blair: You didn’t have to do that
Denver: You can thank me tonight
Blair: I have some ideas
I’m staring at my phone like a love-drunk fool when Cassidy sits next to me to nurse Hazel. Except I’m pretty sure she didn’t come here just for that purpose—not when there are a hundred other places to sit.
“What are your intentions with my best friend?” Never one to beat around the bush or worry about being polite, she stares me down, and Austin snickers under his breath. “Because I’m prepared to hurt you, if I need to.”