“Gary,” Baker threw out, carefully avoiding looking down my way. Hopefully, he was ashamed of his bullshit and couldn’t bear to glance at me or Aiden. “That’s Gary. A year or two younger than Rip.”
“Right, Gary. He may need your dental expertise, Dodge,” Linc called down to the ginger among us who was resting the back of his head against the barn-board-sided wall of Jumping Pony.
“Going by the amount of plaque I saw on his teeth tonight, dental care is low on Gary Leary’s list of important things,” Dodge mumbled softly.
“Gross,” Bella said before she started singing her song. Well, Taylor’s song.
I chewed on the corner of my mouth. My head itched inside. Badly. If Ollie arrested me for assaulting Rip Leary, that would be so bad. So very bad. We’d been as careful as we could be, and now I was going to blow everything to hell over one asshole. An asshole who shot a dog, so maybe that was a point in my favor, but overall I may have just—
“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do,” Ollie announced as he neared us, dark eyes roaming over each Bastian—and Bella was an honorary Bastian—as he slowly strolled up and stopped. He was pretty imposing. “I have two witnesses who saw Ford pull up and open his door. They say there was a nominal impact with the Leary van. When Rip exited, they saw the flash of a blade, which corroborates with what was removed from his person during our little scrum to get him restrained.”
“He had a knife?” I asked. Ollie nodded. “Shit.”
“So, since you were acting to defend yourself from Mr. Leary, the witness testimony jibing with our removal of hidden weapons on the Leary combatants as well as several illegal firearms found in the van under probable cause searches, and the fact the owner is not pressing charges since the fight took place outside and no harm was done to his establishment, I am releasing you all with firm warnings. And I meanfirm. Do not ever have me called out to break up another fight with you and the Learys. Also, you’re all permanently flagged from Jumping Pony.”
“Even me?” Bella asked, her tone sweet as one of Granny’s yam pies.
“Even you. Now, haul your backsides home before I change my mind. Dodge, I have to work late and book these chumps, so I will see you later.”
“Love you,” Dodge called to his man.
“Mm-hmm, love you too.” Ollie gave us all a long, dark look before he helped Dodge off the ground and gave him a tenderlittle pat on the rump. We all rose. We were dusty, bloody, and bruised.
I peeked at Bella. “You saved me from being pounded into mashed potatoes.”
She flung some of her loose hair over her shoulder. “And you once saved me from something far worse. Shame about that guitar, though.”
I’d save up to buy her a new one. Aiden gave me a nudge in the side. “You look sexy as hell right now.”
“You too,” I whispered while we all caught our breaths. I hoped Granny wouldn’t be too mad at us when she found out. Maybe we could keep it a secret from her.
11
Chapter Eleven
Nope. She knew.
The minute we all limped back home and saw the bright yellow bug light glowing, we knew Granny was awake. Easing out of the truck, I took care to close the door softly, but the front door opened anyway. All six of us—I was including Hanley now, since he had tossed the gloves during our scrum, making him a Bastian in spirit even if he lacked the last name—stalled halfway up the steps.
“Guess you all need some antiseptic and some ice. Get inside. I’ll tend to them that’s hurt the worst first, then we’ll move along down the line.” Granny, in her robe and slippers, held the inside door open for us as she kept the screen door open with her backside. “Never seen such a bedraggled group since that time I found them kittens alongside the road when I was ten. Course, them kittens couldn’t help the situation they found themselves in, while you all certainly could.”
“Sorry, Granny,” we all muttered as we shuffled indoors.
“I know you are. And when I get the whole pure story, I’m sure the Lord will forgive you for acting a fool in public.”
Granny followed us into the kitchen, where a fresh pot of coffee and some warm buns with soft butter awaited. It took an hour for her to triage us all to her satisfaction. During that time, we explained a few times what had happened. And why.
“Well, I guess the Lord did say a righteous man who falters before the wicked is like a murky spring and a polluted well. I’d say you all stood up against evil and hatred. I’m proud of you for that.”
Lady lay on my feet as if to ensure I was okay and not going anywhere. I had no plans to go anywhere other than into the craft room to paint. Things were crazy out of order once again, but a few hours with paint and brush would help.
“Reckon you all should wash up and get some sleep,” Granny said to the painfully silent room. We all rose, one at a time, to climb the stairs. Except me. I went to my table. The little men were lined up perfectly, just as I’d left them, frozen in various acts of cowboy life. Riding, lassoing, shooting a gun into the air. Villains and cowpokes, each one had a story to tell. I plucked up a different one, a bad guy. I could tell by the mask covering the lower half of his face. This would be Rip. I should finish the sheriff I’d begun, but something told me it was more important to paint this bad guy. So I did, with care. I created a miniature replica of Rip, right down to his dark, hateful eyes.
Fingers speckled with blue, yellow, and dark green, I placed the tiny metal Rip in a circle of cowboys, mostly all unpainted still. They had him backed into a corner by Bella’s bright pink pin cushion.
Lady yawned at my feet, which made me yawn. My phone showed it was ten past two. I needed to get to bed. Tomorrow would be a tense, early day. There was a lot simmering betweenme and Baker. I was too damn mad to even think about talking to him. Maybe I would never talk to him again.
“You’re a dick,” I whispered to tiny Rip as I plucked him out of the circle of heroes—if you could call us Bastian’s heroes—and tossed his metal ass into Granny’s old wicker sewing basket, sealing it with the loop closure. “Enjoy your time in jail.”
