Pops nods once.
Uncle Roan looks at Spur. "Spur."
"Roan."
"My brother says you're running the hunt."
"Yeah, I am."
"Then let me put my men down and wash my face, then you and me and my brothers sit down at the table and tell me what we're doing."
"Sounds good."
Uncle Roan looks at me one more time. His hand cups the back of my head briefly. "Your uncle is here, baby girl."
"I know, Uncle Roan. Thank you for coming."
He walks past me into the main house. Uncle Holt and Pops follow him.
Spur stays on the porch with me for a half-second and pulls me against him. His chin comes down on the top of my head. "Three out of four Lyle brothers in your father's house."
"Yeah."
"That hasn't happened since when, baby?"
"God, it has to be like ten years ago."
"And here we are."
"Here we are."
He kisses my hair. The sun is going down behind the western fence of Sharp. The oaks are throwing long shadows across the yard.
Inside the main house, my father and my uncles are walking to the kitchen table to plan how to put a man named Kane in the ground, and I’m going with them.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Spur
Sunday morning comes up gray over Sharp, and I'm up before the sun, per usual.
Dakota sleeps beside me in the back bedroom of the main house with her face turned into my shoulder and her wrapped wrist on my chest.
We could’ve gone back to my cabin last night, but we didn’t.
I think there’s some sort of comfort in being together like this.
I've been awake an hour, watching the ceiling, thinking about the man I'm going to kill today.
I get out of bed carefully. Boots. Jeans. Clean shirt. Cut.
She wakes when I reach for the Glock on the dresser. "Spur."
"Hey, baby," I say, turning to look at her.
"What time is it?"
"Five."
