“Helluva thing we did . . . together,” Jake added for good measure.
Tanner nodded, a tired hand running up over his head, through his hair. “Thanks for what you did today, Jake.”
Jake blinked, because Tanner had just called him by his name. Not City Boy, not asshole, but his name. Another small victory, another crack in the wall Tanner had built between them the day Jake had arrived.
Tanner slowly pushed off the counter and headed to the back-door mud porch. He stopped and turned again, defeat in the droop of his shoulders. Jake again waited for him to blurt out whatever was circling in his head. He was using every ounce of patience he had to make sure he could keep the fragile peace dental flossed between them.
“I’ll do night check with Bobby. Tell Liz not to worry. Think she’d rather spend time with you anyway, after today. She was pretty scared out there, though she won’t admit it. Could likely use some reassuring, or somethin’,” he finally mumbled, and then exited through the door quickly before Jake could answer.
“Okay, then,” Jake replied to the now empty kitchen. That was the most that Tanner had said to him without shouting, and Jake absorbed the moment.
“Well, that was nice,” Peony said, and Jake turned.
“Yeah, it was. Maybe we’ve figured something out,” Jake replied. The front door slammed. “Did Liz leave?”
“She said something about night check, and Brady said he’d help her.” Peony started moving dishes over to the dishwasher.
They spent a few moments cleaning up, Jake’s shoulders aching, and he hissed as he stood back up from sliding the pans back into their slot in the low cabinet.
“I am going to hurt tomorrow. I’d like a quiet day, please,” he said.
“It’s been nothing but drama here since Brett died,” Peony added, leaning against the counter. “Today takes the cake.”
Jake just hummed anuh-huhunder his breath. That might be an understatement.
“I’d like a day to just catch my breath too. There’s been a lot of unease since Brett died. I trust things will settle eventually, but I never anticipated all this, and what it means for us,” Peony added. Jake caught the tiredness, and maybe a bit of sadness in her tone.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or Liz. Your home is here,” Jake said quickly. Peony had as much right to stay here on the ranch as anyone, even if the will had left her out entirely.
Peony nodded her understanding, a brief moment of emotion showing before she smiled and took a big breath, shoving her shoulders back.
“It has been home for a long time. I wouldn’t know where we’d go from here,” she replied quietly. “But no sense in dwelling on that now. It’s been a day, and we all need to wind down without stressful conversations.”
“What would Brett do after a big day like this? I watched Tanner today after we got the cattle back into the field. He was so tight and silent, was our dad like that too?” Jake asked impulsively, his thoughts turning to his father, and how he would have let off steam, handled the situation had he been the one to ride up on it.
Would he have been proud of Jake for wading in? The thought snuck in that his father never got to see him ride a horse or learn to herd cattle. More things he might’ve known if his life had been different. It was a stupid place to go, but he was tired, and the darker side of his reason for being here invaded the moment he started thinking about it too much.
Peony stilled, studying him, her head tilted. He wondered if he’d asked the wrong question when she didn’t answer right away.
“I want to show you something. Follow me,” Peony said, pointing to the back of the house.
Jake followed her down the long hallway that led to the back den and laundry room, to a door he’d never noticed at the very end. Peony stopped, her hand on the doorknob.
“There’s a key hidden above the door frame. I can’t reach it.” She pointed above her head, a rueful smile sliding across her face.
Jake ran his fingers along the molding and a key slid into his palm. He blew the dust off carefully and held it out to Peony.
“You open it, my dear, I think you should,” she said.
He slid the key into the knob. “What is this room?” he asked gently, already suspecting it held his father’s private business. “Was this Brett’s study?”
“We called it The War Room. I’ve been inside once—the night Veronica died, when I checked in with him before I went home. Not even when we were married did I go in. It was his. He never explicitly said anything, but I just had this feeling he didn’t want others in here, even me. He would disappear inside when he’d had a hard day or was struggling with something. That was his way. The last couple of years, those nights were more often.”
“Do you want to go in now, or will this be hard?” Jake asked. “I can only imagine the emotions that come with going into a space that will remind you of him.”
“I’m fine. It’s time I went in and faced this last hurdle, and maybe there’s something in there about his intentions with his will, but I doubt he kept anything like that in here, it all would’ve gone to the lawyer. Even if it’s empty except for Brett’s things, you should see it. Might help you answer that question you asked me in the kitchen.”
Jake nodded and, with a breath, turned the key and opened the door.
