Unfortunately, we didn’t have time for him to clean up. According to the tracking app, Silas, Anna, Blue, and Christy would all be here in the next ten minutes.
Ashton reached out and steadied Ford when he almost tipped over.
“I’m fiiiine.” Ford waved a lazy hand, at a fence post two feet to my left. He couldn’t even tell where I was. His dark hair, which sorely needed cutting, fell into his eyes. “Stawwp making a biiiig deal outta it.”
“Fine my butt,” I growled. “Mom’s sobbing back at the house. Dad’s spitting nails in the barn. You don’t show up, after months away from home, completely sloshed, idiot. And you are not messing this up for me.” I amended, “For Christy. Her parents came all the way out here to surprise her. And now it’s trashed.”
Maisy neighed behind me, itching to get going. I tugged on her lead and scratched her nose.
To my right, Ashton shook his head, hands on his hips. “What do you want to do, man?”
My fists curled. “There’s nothingtodo. Scrap it. I’m going to wing it.”
He cocked a brow. “You sure?”
I threw my hands out. “Areyougoing to sing and play the guitar?”
“Definitely not.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
I exhaled. “Can you just get everybody set up and make sure the roses haven’t blown all over the place? I’ll deal with this.” I gestured at Ford and his…girlfriend? Man, I hoped not. He’d definitely had his beer goggles on when he picked her up. She was not pretty. Or intelligent.
“You got it.” Ash took off for his truck.
Ford cuffed me on the shoulder. “I gotchu man.” He held out his guitar with a wobbly arm. “I can plaaaay this wiff my eyes closed.” Then he squeezed them shut and demonstrated. It wasn’t terrible actually. Maybe this could still work.
The brunette, sporting a black miniskirt like she washeaded to an emo concert, giggled. “Those magic fingers are going to make him millions at age twenty.”
Ford clicked his inebriated tongue and pointed a finger pistol at her. “Napshvul, hur we come.”
I cocked a brow. “Nashville?”
Then he swung his finger gun on me and winked. “Yup.” The p popped sloppily. “Riiiight affer this is oveeeer.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re going to Nashville?”
“Thaz right.” His chin jutted.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Ford, you’re starting a summer internship tomorrow. Here. In Seddledowne.” Dad had wrangled it himself, assuring Marley Butterfield, the accountant for Dupree Ranch, that he wouldn’t regret it.
“Nope.” Ford’s P popped again. “I’m done wiff accountant-ing. I’m going to Naaasshvul. Gonna make it biiig.”
My mouth parted and I spoke to the girl. “What is he talking about?”
She clapped her hands together. “Two of his NYU friends got an apartment down there and talked him into dropping out. He’s got an audition, the day after tomorrow for a new talent show, like American Idol.”
“He dropped out of school?” Mom balked from behind us. I spun. She released a loud sob. Oh, good grief.
“Yeah.” Bimbo squealed, bouncing on her toes. “He’s really going for it. Just wait, Mrs. Dupree. He’s going to build you a big, fat mansion.”
At that, Mom wailed. Dad, who had ambled out from the barn, put an arm around her shoulder. “She doesn’t want a mansion,” he said to Bimbo. “She just wants her son to get his head on straight.” Then he said, “Come on, Ford. Let’s get you to the hill.”
“Ford, no singing,” I said. “Just play something simple. But no words, man.” I was chancing it by letting him do this at all. He clicked that dumb finger againand stumbled straight into Dad’s back. Then he righted himself before disappearing around the edge of the barn.
I shoved my foot in Maisy’s stirrup and stroked her jaw. “You up for a double ride, Maisy girl?” Then I clucked my tongue and took off for Mom and Dad’s house.
When we arrived, Christy was standing there looking confused. Man, she was a sight. She always was. Whether she was in a dress, pajamas, or jeans and a T-shirt, it didn’t matter. My heart was stupid-happy to see her, regardless. But today, she could not have worn anything more fitting. Her pale yellow dress had puffy sleeves. She looked like pure sunshine.
At the sight of me, she smiled, surprised. “Oh, hey.” She threw her hands out. “What’s going on? Silas said we were having an end-of-school-year dinner, but no one’s here.” She gave me the once over, and her brows wiggled. “You look very schmexy.” Her brow cocked. “And way too dressed up to be on a horse. Is something happening that I don’t know about?” I had gotten a new shirt and new boots and was wearing my nicest slacks. I wanted to look at least halfway worthy of her.
