“Sure. Once the roads are clear.” Hadn’t they been in my shop? Once, Dad had stopped by and dropped offsome old tools he never used. His way of weeding out and ramping down the ranch, but also to check on me. I might’ve herded him through and out.
Seemed pretty fucking immature.
“I’ll call you when it’s safe to come out here.”
“Yes, Jonah. That’ll be nice.”
I ended the call before the throb in my chest could tear a vessel. My parents deserved better than me. Eli had been the type of kid they could dote on. I’d only grown worse the older I’d gotten.
Summer was quiet on the couch. I dropped to sit next to her, and she curled up next to me.
“How are your parents?” she asked.
“Worried.”
She angled her head up. “Mama never quits fretting. It’s a parent thing.”
I gave her a knowing look. I’d seen how fast she answered the phone whenever Wynter called. “And a sister thing.”
She returned the knowing look. “Yes, but we’re not talking about me.”
Fine. I was apparently helpless against my fresh-faced guest. “I hate that I still worry them. Mom was surprised I make a good living making furniture.”
“Haven’t they seen your kitchen table?”
“Yes.” I smirked. “But they haven’t seen how much I sell that kind of table for.”
“How much?” Her expression turned almost shy. “I mean, I’ve snooped on your site. You had an end table for five grand?”
“Rich people like unique things.”
“Rich people like custom-made products from places like Montana,” she agreed. “When I first priced a smallbatch exclusive of holiday bourbon, I thought Daddy was crazy. I thought getting hundreds for a bottle was a pipe dream. It’s just bourbon.”
“Damn good bourbon.” I used to enjoy having a drink once in a while with Teller. Except for a few times as a teen and a couple more after I turned twenty-one, I hadn’t gotten drunk. More memories piled on. “We’d come in from a hunting or snowmobiling trip and toss one back as we unpacked and cleaned our gear.”
I waited for her to tell me I could still try hunting, or even snowmobiling. And I’d tell her that even short hunting excursions made my joints ache so bad I couldn’t sleep for a week. A little bird meat wasn’t worth it. I could buy a goose from the butcher shop, a turkey from the grocery store. I could order venison. Then I’d be able to walk the next day.
As for snowmobiling, I couldn’t risk getting in snow so deep I’d have trouble taking a step. I couldn’t high-knee like I used to. I wasn’t going to make myself a victim so others could put themselves in danger to come help me.
But she didn’t placate me. She didn’t force optimism. “I used to have a drink with Teller when we were both up late at home. The last couple of times, he asked me about Boyd. Now I can see that he was fishing, trying to get me to admit I wasn’t happy.”
“He’s a good brother.”
“They all are.” She threaded her fingers through mine. “So were you.”
A shock of tension rippled through me. I hadn’t expected to talk about Eli. “I wasn’t.”
“Eli was a lot like Tenor. Quieter, more subdued, alittle nerdy, but still enough like Tate and Teller that it’s clear they’re brothers. Yet people are often surprised.”
“I think it was the same with Eli. I kept expecting him to act like me, but he didn’t. I didn’t know what to do with him half the time.”
“Teller and Tate are like that with Tenor.”
That made me feel better. I respected the hell out of the older Bailey brothers. They had a hard time understanding a more sensitive brother? I wasn’t infallible. Eli had reacted to the world differently than me. If I’d gotten dumped and the girl had told me she was into Eli, then I would’ve taken a trip to the mountains—hunting, fly-fishing, camping, hiking, whatever. I’d have found something to do, and I wouldn’t have returned until I’d decided I was better off alone and the girl was better off with Eli. Dad would’ve taken over all the ranch duties like he had when I had gone where I wanted when I had wanted. Mom had worried.
Fuck.
Summer traced a pattern on my thigh. “Do I get to see some of your work too?”
