Austin chewed his lip harder. I reached over and thumbed his mouth. “Quit that. Let me do a search for once.”
“I guess. Okay.”
“Frank Morse, right?”
“Yeah.” Austin shifted uneasily in his chair, turning to look away.
I typed the name and Dover’s Ridge and hit enter. Results came back, more than I expected. Except,holy shit.I pulled up an article silently.
“What?” Austin asked. “Tell me.”
“Looks like your dad got arrested last year for arson, assault with a deadly weapon, falsifying official case records, and a bunch more stuff.”
“Hewhat?”
I clicked on a later result. “Yep. Plea bargained, sentenced to twelve years, with the possibility of parole in seven. Sentencing date was just this fall. September sixth. He’s locked up for at least seven more years.”
“He might appeal.”
“I don’t think you can appeal a plea bargain.”
“Shit.” Austin raised shaking hands to his face. “Shit!” I reached toward him, but he dodged. “Check on my uncle Hal. Harold Morse.”
I did as he asked, and read the stories. “Sentenced as an accessory to some of the crimes. He only got three years, so he could be out in eighteen months.”
“But he’s in prison too?”
“Yeah. Sentenced June fifteenth.”
“Fuck.” Austin flattened his palms against his eyes.
This time, when I reached for him, shoving my chair back so I could haul him into my lap, he didn’t resist. He pressed his cheekto my hair, and I held him, feeling the tension in every muscle. Until he murmured, “Wow. All right,” and melted into my hug.
He was a solid hundred and fifty pounds of cowboy on my knees, but I could’ve held him like that forever.
After a minute, he sat up and rose to his feet. “I want to do it.”
“What?”
“The Christmas ranch thing at Joe’s place. If we can afford it because the Circle-K looks pretty upscale, which is a bit mind-blowing when I think about Joe.”
“Might be that Sylvester guy’s idea.”
“Probably. Anyhow, I don’t need, like, a Caribbean vacation. I want to see Joe, and I want you to see where I came from.” Austin bent over the laptop and clicked into the reservations, selecting the holiday package for two. “Ouch.” He eyed the fee. “Wish we could charge our dudes that.”
“It says they have a Michelin-star chef,” I noted. “Maybe you can pass some pointers to Davis.” My best friend still joined us every summer, feeding our guests better and better food, although he kept swearing the next summer would be his last. At sixty-six now, someday he wouldn’t be kidding, but he was still on the books for next year.
“Davis would probably stab me with a spatula.” Austin eyed the total. “Can we afford it?”
“If we find reasonable flights, it’s within the budget I’d planned for the Caribbean. We might have to stay an extra night in Denver, if flying on the Tuesday’s cheaper than Monday.”
“I could live with that.”
“Okay, shall I book it?”
Austin paced to the window and back. “What about the ranch?”
I got up to intercept him. “They’ll muddle through without us. I already talked to the others about taking the Christmas week off. Tiffany and John’s two boys are old enough now not to needTiffany’s full attention and her folks are coming here. Isabella and Elena weren’t planning to go anywhere this year.” Colby had left us to try the rodeo circuit and ended up on a big spread in Texas, but Kendrick hired Isabella, who was a total win, and her wife Elena turned out to be even better with the horses.
