"You scare me," I admit. It'd be nice if I had some sense of pride, but it seems to have abandoned me.
She swivels, her brave stare full on. "Sawyer Bennett?”
I swallow and nod.
"You scare me, too.”
Then she walks out. And what choice do I have but to follow her?
I eat dinner with the Hayden family. I enjoy their company immensely. Too much? The siblings give one another a large helping of shit, but it's clear underneath it all how deeply they love each other. Best wishes to any adversary who decides to come up against the four of them.
During dinner, Wyatt mentions the alfalfa farm. I'm a couple whiskeys deep by then, so I state, "I bought it."
Voices grow quiet. The sound of forks scraping plates is a lone sound in the room. "You bought the alfalfa farm?" Beau asks.
I nod. "My lawyer is drawing up all the papers and we're signing tomorrow. Don't worry," I add, "I'm ceasing operations. Both the HCC and Wildflower will get their rightful share of water."
Beau gets up, going into the pantry off the kitchen. Wes whistles, low and slow.
Wyatt rubs his palms together. "I've been waiting my whole life for this."
Beau returns with a bottle.Macallan 25. He carries two glasses. Wyatt's face falls.
"Sawyer." Beau says my name, and nothing else. He pours the whiskey into fresh tumblers, pushing one my way. "I'd like to personally thank you for what you did for the HCC. We may be an inadvertent benefactor, but that doesn't diminish my gratefulness."
I nod, overwhelmed. "Sir," I start, but he interrupts me.
"And thank you, for this afternoon. For coming here, and showing us how to communicate with my grandson." He swallows hard, and I get the feeling I’ve been let into a secret showing of an emotional Beau Hayden.
"The pleasure is mine, sir."
He sips the whiskey, and I follow suit. I wish I possessed a more refined palette, so I could properly appreciate the taste. He replaces the bottle in the pantry. Wyatt nudges me. "What the fuck, man? None of us have been allowed to have that shit. He saves it for special occasions."
Jessie places her hands on my shoulders from behind, and it's everything I can do not to tip my head back into her. "Guess you aren't all that special."
He sends her a dirty look, then offers me a hand. "Thank you," he says, shaking my hand. "For making sure Wildflower has what it needs to operate."
I'm overwhelmed. I didn't do anything extraordinary. I did what was decent.
Juliette serves dessert, an ice cream cookie cake she said was Beau’s mom's recipe, and we go back outside. The Macallan 25 goes down smooth. So does the next whiskey Wes pours for me. Beau and Juliette go to bed long before we've left the gas fire. The couples peel off, one by one. First it's Warner and Tenley, who have the longest drive home. Next up are Wyatt and Jo, then Wes and Dakota.
Jessie looks at me. She’s tired, her blinks long and slow, her eyelashes brushing her skin.
"You're drunk," she says, twisting a key to turn off the firepit.
"No, I’m not." I'm not drunk, per se. But I definitely shouldn't be driving.
She tips her head, considering me. "Can you at least follow me to my cabin?"
I nod. That I can do.
14
Juliette
The past will always come backto haunt you.
It’s sayings like that, among others, that don’t feel real. Until they show up in human form, standing in front of your goat cheese booth and staring longingly at your only daughter.
