“Okay.” Tempe smiles. “Call us if you need us.”
They wave, hanging up, and I set my phone aside.
Eden hasn’t taken her eyes off me and hasn’t moved from the doorway. Her frown darkens the circles under her eyes. “So you’re going back to Vegas?”
“As soon as I get out of the hospital.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, getting defensive when I’m already exhausted just looking at her. “And what about the ranch Dean is supposedly fighting so hard for? You’re just going towalk away?”
“Dean’s fighting to protect his grandfather’s wishes. He’s fighting to keep the land for how it’s meant to be used. He doesn’t need to be running it to make sure that happens. Unlike Kincaid, who wants to tear it apart.”
“You don’t understand. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Eden shakes her head, annoyed. “Things were fine before you made this giant mess. It’s your fault Kincaid and Tate got it in their heads to sell the place. Dad had a plan, but you made it so they couldn’t trust us.”
“I was nothing but faithful to Kincaid.”
“You acted like you didn’t give a shit about him.”
“I didn’t,” I admit. “And he didn’t either. Why do you care, Eden? You weren’t the one forced to be in a relationship with him. You have no idea what I gave up trying to make it work for our family’s sake. I’ve sacrificed everything.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Oh really? How has all this affected you?”
Her eyes narrow as she starts tapping her foot.
Irritation etches her face. She shifts on her feet again, but now I realize it’s not discomfort. She’s angry. Beyond that, she’s defeated. There’s something I missed, something she hasn’t said.
“Eden, what aren’t you telling me?”
32
Chaos
My brother and stepdadare leaning against Tate’s truck when I pull up. I climb off my bike, joining them in a standoff of crossed arms and frowns.
Tate is pissed at me, which is nothing new. I’m used to being the disappointment in my family.
Never could keep my shit together when I was younger, and that got worse after Mom died. The last person who saw anything good inside me left this world, so I figured, why not embrace the chaos?
Everything was spiraling; I could too.
Mom was the heart of this place, and when she died, I couldn’t find the heartbeat in the land anymore. It was empty and incomplete.
Now, looking around, I realize I was too busy staring at my losses to see what was right in front of me, because Mom and Grandpa are still here in ways that can’t be denied.
Like the bright purple barn. A beacon at the center of the property. Mom picked the color, and Tate hated it. It’s one of the few battles she won, and to this day, it stands, painted the same color she chose. Chipping. Worn. But purple. She thought the animals deserved a splash of color.
Mom was raised by generations of ranchers, so she was a tough woman. As evidenced by the tough men she chose to love. But she was gentle with me and Kincaid. She was kind to others.
Her heart was bigger than anything the three of us deserved.
Then there’s Grandpa. His legacy lives in the beams of his house. In the long-standing fenceposts. It’s in every plank of wood, whether it’s been replaced or not. He’s the foundation of what this became.
Mom’s and Grandpa’s presence permeates this place, and even if I don’t plan to stay, I’m going to protect it for them.
Tate glances at my bike, frowning. He always had a lot to say about bikers growing up. They’d roll through town, wreaking havoc, and he’d bitch about it for months after. He claimed they were bad news, as if he was one to judge.
At least my club contributes to our community. We look after our own. While Tate rules Lanceleaf through fear and blackmail.
