West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(52)

I already stepped into that minefield once.

“Sadie is a sweet girl.”

“Her father leaves something to be desired,” Momma notes.

“I thought Tristan was perfectly polite.”

Yeah, I’m doing a bang-up job not defending him.

“Sure, he was polite in front of his daughter, but how polite can you be when you’re destroying things on someone else’s property?”

I could argue—again—how I don’t think they’re doing anything, but it’s futile. My family have dug their heels in, and it’ll take catching someone on camera before they change their tune—and my brothers should be installing cameras today. The police department offered us free wireless cameras to install at our discretion.

My hope is it finally puts this damn thing to rest, because it’s exhausting.

I sigh, tuck her hand into the crook of my elbow, and smile. “If anyone at Heartstone Ranch is doing it, I don’t think it’s Tristan.”

“And why is that?”

Because he told me it’s not him, and I believe him.

Because he’s just not that way.

Because even if he is, I don’t think it would stop me from going to him tonight.

“I don’t know, Momma. I just don’t.”









Chapter 21





Tristan




“You know it’s not too late to change your mind about horse camp,” Sadie says while putting the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table.

“Oh boy,” Harper mutters under her breath.

“Sadie, please, let’s not fight about this again.”

She lets out a long huff. “Fine.”

At least there’s that.

“So, did you get the clothes you needed?” Harper asks Sadie.

“We got some, but Dad said the shorts were too short, which doesn’t make any sense since they’re literally called shorts. They’re supposed to be what they are.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t need your butt showing.”

“Oh, yes, because I won’t be in a bathing suit half the time,” she says with a dramatic scoff. “You chose this camp, Dad. I didn’t.”

“I have regrets,” I say as I sit in my seat.

“Regrets are for losers,” Pop says as he enters the room, taking the seat next to me. “There are no losers in my family.”

Harper purses her lips. “I don’t know, I think Tristan is a pretty big loser.”

“Nah.” Dad takes my side for once. “He’s the biggest loser, right, Sugar Britches?”

Sadie grins, always having my father’s loyalty. “He is, but we love him anyway.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Everyone laughs and starts dishing up their plates. “Where are Roni and Fallon?” Dad asks.

“Roni is working in the barn, said she has too much to do and will grab something later. Fallon took Knox to town for some ‘Mommy and Me’ thing,” Harper informs us.

“Why are you home?” Dad asks her.

“Well, Daddy, someone has to be here to take care of you.”

He scoffs. “I don’t need looking after. I’m going to work on the field after we eat.”

The hell he is. The last time he tried to mow the hayfield, he put huge ruts in the ground that ended up costing me a week’s worth of work. My sister and I share a look and both nod. We will have to devise a plan to keep him from going near the tractor.

Maybe Sadie can install a ceiling fan in her coop and require his assistance.

It’s kept him pretty busy the last few days, and that allowed Harper and me to get a ton of work done on the farm.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Harper says, waving her hand. “Tristan already worked on the field.”

My father, while he may be old and annoying, is not stupid. “He did? When?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, ask him.”

I hate my sister.

Dad turns to me, brows raised. I’ve never been very good at lying to my parents. “Huh?” I play dumb.

“You worked on the field? You cut the hay?”

I grab a roll, take a bite, and nod.

I guess I know what I’m going to be doing after dinner instead of napping while I pretend to work in the barn.

Dad eyes me warily and then looks to Sadie. “You going to lie to your grandad?”

Sadie shakes her head. “No, sir. I never lie to you.”

He smiles. “That’s why you’re my favorite grandchild.”

“I can’t wait to tell Fallon you said that,” Harper says, piling food on his plate. “Eat.”

“Don’t you be telling me what to do,” he gripes at her. “I’ll eat when I want to eat.”

Harper scoffs. “Eat, Dad.”

“You’re not in charge of me, Harper Margaret. I’m in charge of this house. I’m going to eat because I’m hungry and not because you told me to.” Dad grabs his fork, shoveling some potatoes and roast into his mouth.

Harper doesn’t even seem fazed by it and grins at me. I swear I can hear her glee at being able to redirect him where she wanted.