But Bad’s answering smirk was the best. “It’s what he started out as.”
“Clint Mooney!” Aunt Violet gasped, placing a hand to her chest, horror marring her pretty features.
Bad answered with a chuckle and a shrug. “What? It’s true.”
The room dissolved intothe usual chaos that consisted of any family gathering. I’d gotten used to their constant presence—for the most part.
Overall, the tension that accompanied my announcement vanished. But then I’d meet Aunt Violet’s stare and my nerves would skyrocket. From the heated look in her gaze, she’d be pulling me aside at some point. I didn’t know when, but I knew it was coming. I could feel it.
After asking at least a dozen times if I could help Maverick wash dishes and hearing about a dozen different excuses of why I couldn’t, I finally made my way out onto the front porch. But not before hearing Aunt Violet’s voice cut through the chaos. “Maverick, honey. You sure about this? This ain’t like bringin’ in some stray animal.”
Anger sparked to life in my chest, like fire to a match. I wasn’t looking for handouts. In fact, I’d already gotten my store back up and running and was trying as much as I could to contribute in any way I could with horse feed or groceries. But she was just being protective. I didn’t blame her—not really.
I closed my eyes and tilted my head up at the dying sun, letting the weak rays tickle my cheeks with warmth.
July and August had been hot as hell, and if the weather kept up like this, September would turn out just the same. But the evenings brought the promise of cooler weather.
Leave.The whisper went through my mind and soul like a soft breeze. Wyoming or Montana would be nice right now. I lookedback toward the door, my heart constricting in my chest. Blowing out a breath, I let the idea drift away.
I’d show Aunt Violet I wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter thirty-eight
Wonderin’ Bout the Wind
Maverick
“Maverick, honey. You sureabout this? This ain’t like bringin’ in some stray animal.”
Annoyance bristled in my chest. “Aunt Violet,” I warned. I noticed movement in the corner of my eye. Looking up, I caught a glimpse of blonde curls disappearing through the front door.
Shit.
I wondered if Cheyenne going out had been a coincidence or because she’d heard Aunt Violet. She wasn’t the quietest person. An overwhelming urge to go check in on Cheyenne rippled through my entire being. I was half tempted to turn off the water and leave the dishes in the sink so I could go to her.
“What?” Aunt Violet asked defensively. “I’m just concerned. What you’re doin’ is admirable…but I just…I’m worried for you.”
I kept my gaze on the plate I washed and said, “you don’t gotta.”
“Maverick.” Her tone held a pleading note to it that sparked both anger and guilt in me. They never worried about Cash, and we all knew he could use someone caring a bit more about the recklessdecisions he made. Even still, I felt sick to my stomach knowing I worried her. But my temper won out in the end. I rinsed the plate and let it clatter onto the countertop. Rage bubbled within me, like boiling water in a pot. Silence settled through the house like a shroud, making me painfully aware of everyone’s attention.
I met Aunt Violet’s stare as I said, “I’m the one who urged her to keep it, okay? This was largely my idea.”
“I know.” Her gaze turned sad. “That’s why I’m concerned.”
“What’re you sayin’?” I fought to keep my voice calm as rage pummeled into me like waves on the shoreline.
Aunt Violet’s eyes begged for me to see reason. “You’ve clothed her, fed her, housed her. Now, you’re gonna raise her baby? What if she leaves? You’ll have no right to it. No claim to that child.”
Her words stung—cutting deep and twisting like a dagger straight to the heart. I narrowed my gaze on her, the muscle in my jaw clenching. “It ain’t gonna happen.”
“Maverick—” Aunt Violet began.
“Leave it alone, Violet.” Bad’s voice held a warning note to it. He rarely used that tone—least of all with her—but when he did, you knew you were verging into hot water.
I met my uncle’s stare for a long moment, but didn’t find anger or worry or judgment shining in it like with Aunt Violet’s. No, in the light depths, understanding flickered like a soft, warm fire.
Aunt Violet’s voice drew my gaze. “Clint, stay out of this.”
