We crossed the room and pushed open the door to the chapel, letting the door shut behind us with a heavy thud. JD sat behind the battered desk inside. He was a big man with plenty of gray in his beard now, but he was still built like a truck. His eyes lifted slowly from the paperwork in front of him, moving from me to Rowan and then back to me. Ink, our club secretary was sat next to him, his wire glasses hanging on the end of his nose by sheer luck alone, a lit cigarette trapped between his lips.
“Who’s this?” Ink asked, though there was something like recognition on his face.
“Tex,” JD said calmly before lighting a cigarette and blowing out a long curl of smoke. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze moving slowly between Rowan and I. “You wanna tell me why you just walked a civilian into my clubhouse and my chapel? We have rules for a reason, brother.”
My gut tightened. “Prez, we’ve got a problem,” I said.
JD studied me for a long moment before nodding at us to sit down. He turned to Ink. “We’ll finish this up later.”
Ink grumbled and stubbed out his cigarette before gathering up the paperwork and shuffling out of the room. He was evenolder than Confessor and barely rode anymore. His hands were gnarled and his skin leathered from years of riding, but he still handled all the money coming in and out of the club.
JD blew out a mouthful of smoke. “When I brought you back here to help the club on this matter, I thought I’d made the right call. Now you got me questioning myself.” He let out a heavy breath, and I knew why he was struggling. He had things to say, but a lot of things couldn’t, and shouldn’t, be said in front of Rowan. She wasn’t part of the club and her loyalty to us, regardless of us trying to protect her, was unknown.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I began, and he chuckled cutting me off.
“I guarantee you that you do not.”
“Fair point, but I didn’t want to leave her alone right now.” I glanced over at Rowan, taking in the angle of her jaw and the narrow of her eyes.
JD tipped his head at me. “Okay, so start talking.”
So I did. I explained about the man she had met that had pulled her over and the fire at the shed, at which I felt her body tense next to me and I felt like a sack of shit because it was the first she was hearing about that. I told him what the man she had met had said about her father and our club.
The whole time, JD didn’t interrupt once.
Rowan sat beside me, silent, anxiety pouring from her in waves. I knew all she wanted to do right now was get back to the ranch, but she sat patiently waiting all the same.
When I finished, JD folded his hands together slowly. Then he looked at Rowan.
“What was your father’s name?” he asked.
Rowan hesitated. “Caleb Hale.”
JD shook his head. “I don’t know him other than he ran the Hale Ranch for twenty years. Straight as an arrow, from what I originally heard.”
“Yes, sir, that’s why I don’t understand what this other man is talking about. My father never even bought a lottery ticket. There’s no mortgage on the ranch. No debts. No nothing. He was a good man.” She shrugged, the frustration clear. “I don’t know what he could be talking about.”
Her chin trembled on that last part and I had the urge to grab her and pull her against my chest. I wanted to take away her pain and her sadness. I wanted to give her back her ranch and her peace. And I would, no matter what it took.
The intensity I felt for keeping her safe was unsettling and I forced myself to keep still and silent and not make any move toward her.
JD scrubbed a hand over his gray beard. “I’ve been asking around, and you’re right, originally there wasn’t much out of the ordinary for either him or your mom.”
“They were just normal people. My mom did the errands—school drop-offs, grocery shopping, anything like that. Dad ran the ranch with minimal help until the day he died.” Rowan fell quiet, and when I looked over I saw the agony in her pained expression as she tried to calm herself down. “And then my Mom went right after him.”
I closed my eyes briefly, her pain visceral. To lose both parents so close together, Jesus, no wonder she was trying to be so tough. If she let any of that pain out she was going to fall apart.
“Must have been hard,” JD said, pouring a shot of whiskey into a glass. He slid it over to her and she took it gratefully. She took a small sip and I watched her muscles relax as the burn of it slid down her throat. Something about the action made me smile. It was a feeling almost like pride. Nothing like a woman that could handle her whiskey.
“It was,” she said, putting the glass down, “but you have to deal with these things. You never know what life is going to throw at you.”
JD lifted an eyebrow. “Exactly. Just look at the situation you’re in now.”
I frowned, not liking the direction the conversation was going. Rowan shifted in her seat before briefly glancing across at me and then back to JD.
I opened my mouth to say something when JD held up a hand. “Not a word, Tex. I want to hear from Rowan. If you’re so tough, then why are you asking for our help, kitten?”
“She’s not—” I started, but JD slammed a hand down on the desk.
