I file the information away to ask Meredith. She said he’d been in his head. She would’ve told me. Unless she was waiting to see how it all played out.
No. That’s not like her.
“We haven’t finished going through his things,” is all I say.
“Sure, sure.” She drums her fingers on the counter. “Well, you know where to find me. About the dedication—you sure none of you can make it? I’m certain Meredith will be there.”
She will be, and it’ll be to represent all of us now. I’ll be in my office in Denver, fielding half the calls lighting up my phone and answering a billion emails. I’ll have two monitors filled with numbers pulled up in front of me.
“Sorry, Shirley,” Bowen says. “I’m heading home after the cattle drive.”
Her face lights up. “Oh, exciting. I’m going to miss Ram’s stories. I was hoping I’d keep hearing them through all of you.”
“Bowen herds ones and zeros now,” Landry says, “and I herd marketing campaigns. I won’t be there either.”
“Darn.” Her shoulders droop. “Your dad did so much with the place. He couldn’t kick in any donations, but he was there with the Bobcat smoothing out the dirt. That guy was always willing to lend a hand. He couldn’t drop cash like Gil, but he dedicated his time and energy to what mattered to him.”
Dad is imprinted all throughout this community, and the people want to acknowledge him. I make people wealthy but rarely receive thanks. Sometimes, I get a Christmas card I barely glance at. There won’t be any baseball diamonds named after me. My community doesn’t spread beyond my office.
“I’ll see if I can make it,” leaves my mouth before I can think twice.
With Shirley and Charlie’s attention on me, Bowen mouths, “What the fuck?” Landry crushes his molars together.
My gaze strays to the windows. Fluffy white clouds fill the blue sky. I’m supposed to be gone by the time my brothers leave, but I left an opening to stay longer. I’m not upset about it, but my clients will be, as will my staff.
“Let me get your deets.” Shirley logs my number into her phone and promises to send me the information. When she and Charlie are gone, the guys round on me.
“Why did you tell her you might be there?” Bowen demands. “Your phone is going as crazy as mine, but you’re going to risk what you built for abaseball diamond?”
I should’ve prepared for this, but I don’t have any more answers. “To represent the Crosses, since you fuckers are heading for the hills.”
“Damn right, we are.” Landry pushes in the chair Shirley was sitting in. “I haven’t been on a baseball field since my senior year.”
Bowen snaps his fingers. “Did you do that one shoot?—”
“Jackass.” Landry glares at him.
“—in nothing but a jockstrap? On first base?” Bowen snickers and poses with a leg kicked out, and Landry struggles to hide his smile.
I can’t hold back my chuckle. Hell, I missed this the most. “We mean something to the town. Like it or not, we are still a part of it for longer than we thought.”
“And only one of us doesn’t seem to mind.” Landry rubs his lower lip between his thumb and his forefinger. “The reason seems pretty clear. It has the last name Winslow.”
“Or are you taking the extra time to convince Meredith that selling really is best?” Bowen asks, as if he thinks I won’t.
The tug-of-war continues. I’m not coercing Meredith. I may be ruthless in business, but I’m fair. It’s my brothers’ insistence to offload everything that created our foundation in life that’s giving me pause. It feels…wrong.
“The Crosses are part of Scandal. That’s going to be our name on that baseball field—a place Dad helped with, because we all played on the old one, and he wanted future generations in Scandal to keep playing.”
Bowen sucks his lips against his teeth. “If he wanted future Cross generations, he should’ve thought of that instead of thinking with his dick. With us gone, keeping everything going will be too hard for Meredith.”
My frustration heats the back of my neck. “It doesn’t have to be.”
Bowen knocks on the tabletop. “We already decided what we were going to do. Now you’re changing your mind, which affects all of us.”
“You’re thinking with your dick like Dad,” Landry adds.
“Never”—my voice goes low—“demean Meredith to nothing but a fuck.”
