West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(18)

My father clears his throat. “Jimmy went over to Heartstone Ranch to issue a strong warning,” he says as he places his dish down.

“Good, I hope they arrest them,” Ryan says. “The trouble they’re causing sets us all back.”

I focus on the food, knowing if I defend them, it’ll cause a fight, but also knowing I can keep my mouth shut for only so long.

Eat your food, Lark. Eating means you can’t talk, because Momma will have you in your room if you talk with food in your mouth.

I take a bite and chew very, very slowly. “They belong in jail,” Deacon tacks on. “Cutting the wires to the pasture is a crime. Vandalism for one, and I’m sure we can find other charges, like reckless endangerment of animals.”

My father nods. “That whole family is rotten. They don’t do a damn thing if it’s not for their own gain.”

Quiet. Keep quiet.

I try to chew, but there’s nothing left. I scoop up another bite, hoping I can get it shoveled in before someone else says something.

Deacon agrees. “They wouldn’t know what kindness was if it hit them in the face. The entire family is garbage.”

I quickly put some mashed potatoes in.

“The worst is Tristan. He acts so high and mighty, but he’s a piece of shit,” Ryan says with a scoff.

“Language,” Mother scolds.

“Sorry, Momma, but you know they’re worthless and cruel. They are incapable of being respectable, and the fact is, they get away with everything and do nothing good in this world.”

That’s it. I can’t keep my mouth shut another second.

“Tristan is the one who helped me on the side of the road in that storm the other night. He pulled my truck off the road so it didn’t get hit, in the pouring rain, and then drove me here, making sure I got home safe. I’m not saying the Stones are great, but they’re not cruel. He could’ve left me there, and he didn’t,” I say, slamming my fork down. “We’re no better than them, sitting around here talking about how they do nothing good in the world. He deserves at least some measure of gratitude for being nice.”

Four sets of eyes turn to me. Great. Now I’ve done it.









Chapter 6





Lark




Icould’ve said all that a little less dramatically, but then…I wouldn’t be me. So I sit here, waiting for this conversation to continue and for things to get ugly. I’m just not sure which of my family members will be the first to speak.

They stare.

I stare back.

Good times.

Finally, we have the first one to break.

“Tristan Stone was the Good Samaritan?” Deacon asks, his voice even.

That tells me that I’m about to get screamed at. My brother doesn’t do calm. He’s a loose cannon, and he’s about to blow.

“Yes.”

“And you left that part out why?” he asks with the same calmness that sends a shiver down my spine.

I laugh once, faking a bravado that is meant to hide my irritation at my big mouth. “Why do you think? Maybe because you all react like this, every single time anyone brings up their names.”

Momma clears her throat. “Tristan is who helped you when you got stuck in the storm?”

“Yes, Momma.”

“Why?”

I blink. “Umm…because I was stuck and he saw me…?”

I don’t know what other reason there would be.

She looks to my father. “Did you know he was who helped her, George?”

“No.” That one word is like a bullet.

The room stays quiet, and I know I need to fix this, because they were enjoying their usual Stone bashing, and I went and ruined it. Time for some damage control. I make my voice a little nonchalant like I didn’t drop a bomb on them and scoop up some potatoes on my fork. “All I’m saying is that Tristan was kind to me. He drove me home, made sure I was safe, and…I asked him about the pranks, and he said it wasn’t them. He didn’t know who it was, but maybe we’re all so convinced that it’s them that we’re missing something,” I suggest. When I look at my family’s blank stares, I realize that I’m really, really bad at this. “Maybe?”

I pop my fork into my mouth and pray I choke or something, so I die by potato instead of my brothers.

Ryan scoffs. “We’ve been dealing with their bullshit for decades, Lark. You know this. How the hell can you defend them?”

I swallow and do not choke.

Damn it.

“I’m not defending them. I’m just pointing out that we are so hell-bent on saying they’re doing it, that maybe we’re blinded by hate. Also, it’s not been decades.”

My father speaks up. “I think you’re wrong there. I’ve been dealing with it my entire life.”

“And maybe they feel the same about us,” I challenge. “Besides, we don’t know they’re doing it.”

I’m going to stick to those facts. My family fails to remember that they have also been a part of the long-standing feud between the families. My father, grandfather, and his father before him were all part of it. They’ve done petty things back and forth. There’s a rumor that my great-great-great-grandfather slept with a Stone’s wife. It’s very muddy, and truly not everyone’s finest moments.