Carson and Perry had been best friends their entire lives, and in reality, in love for most of their lives, but running from it as if it was the most terrifying thing either of them could imagine. Carson had gone away to the military, had gotten married, and had been widowed only a few years later. In the aftermath, he and Perry had finally worked out their feelings for each, but Lord, it had been messy. Their foundation was strong, and their feelings were intense.That kind of commitment made Flynn want to turn and run in the other direction.
In his estimation, love was … labor. Austin and Millie, for what it was worth, had a much less tempestuous relationship, but Perry and Carson had fallen in love kicking and screaming, wounding each other the whole way.
He was glad they were together now, but good God, you couldn’t pay him.
He’d been through enough when it came to love, even if it was of a different variety.
“What?” said Perry. “I wouldn’t have been thinking about West except you brought him up.”
“Well, his sister is here.”
“Thank you for that,” she said. “I did notice. But I also acknowledge Jessie’s identity apart from her family. Anyway, I’m primarily curious about your-all’s scheme.”
“You can’t tell anybody,” he warned.
“Yes, that has been said to me about fifty times. I know I can’t tell anybody. We are united in this whole beat-Danielle thing. The restaurant tax would have such a detrimental impact on tourism in town. And anything that impacts tourism negatively is a hundred percent not for me. Plus, I don’t like her.”
“Nobody does,” Flynn said. “Well. That’s not true. Plenty of people do, or she wouldn’t be the mayor. But it’s a particular sort of thing. The kind of liking that has a clause. They’ll all turn on her if the tide shifts.”
“True that,” said Carson.
A minute later, the steaks were done. He carried the meat in and was unsurprised to see that Jessie Jane was holding court in the living room. He had just come in at the end of a full-on campaign speech.
Millie looked delighted, Austin looked dubious. Cassidy gave a fist pump of admiration.
He wished that Dalton were here, but he had gone down south to compete in a rodeo event and would not be present for the next couple of weeks to pass judgment on the situation. Very irritating.
It would’ve been nice to have his input.
“I think it sounds great,” said Cassidy. “Anyone who’s going after Flynn’s useless-ass family is good in my book.”
Oh, Cassidy. She drove him nuts, but she was so resolutely on his side. The truth was, he was the only one, and so was she. Carson and Austin were full brothers. Danielle and Mike were full siblings; Flynn was the half. And Cassidy was in much the same boat. She was one of the halves. Cut from a slightly different cloth, and never really quite sure what to do about it.
He had really needed her when she had come to the house, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he had ever communicated that to her. But her arrival had upended things in the best way. Having a nine-year-old girl to look after had taken the focus off his own pain. And it had made him feel a little bit less alone. And hell, her loss had been a lot more important. A lot fresher, and it had given him a purpose.
“Thank you,” he said. “You know I don’t hate them.”
Did he? It was complicated. Sometimes the LeFevres felt like strangers. But strangers didn’t have their hooks in you, he supposed. Strangers didn’t have complex scaffolding that they had built inside you, residences that made you feel a certain way about yourself and everything else.
“Well, I don’t like them,” he said.
Danielle and Mike, anyway. His feelings for his mom were more complicated and always had been.
His stepdad could die in a fire. He didn’t even think of him as his stepfather but as his mom’s husband.
“What I really want to know,” Jessie said as they all moved into the kitchen to eat, “are your primary concerns as ranchers.”
That question opened the gate, and Carson and Austin were off to the races. They had plenty to say about the nuances of water rights and other issues affecting ranchers.
“I fear there’s probably not much I can do on a local level about some of that stuff. But what I would be committed to doing is having a quarterly meeting with the ranchers to find out how we can better serve different agribusinesses in the community. It’s important.Tourism isn’t all Rustler Mountain is, even if it has historically been my family’s concern.”
He watched her closely, trying to tell if she was being genuine, or just a genuinely good politician. It was hard to say with her.
There was always a cheeky grin on her face, and that swagger in her step. He had no idea if that was who she was, or if it was a bit she was doing.
But when she was talking about ranching, there was a light of real concern in her eyes.
He watched as she charmed everybody, complimenting each and every dish, and even managing to make Austin smile.
