Page 25 of Love, Lies, and Whiskey

Then she forced herself to get up and go inside. She washed her face, needing to pull herself together before Lucas came back in. Parenting was so fucking hard.

It was hell not going down to the barn to try to reason with him. But he deserved time to process what he’d learned. Hopefully once he calmed down, they’d talk and she’d be able to explain what had happened.

She tried to busy herself cleaning up and doing laundry, but mostly she worried and paced.

When she couldn’t take it anymore, she tucked two cookies into a napkin as a peace offering, put on her boots, and headed down to the barn. Greeted by the scents of hay and horses, where she, too, had always found solace, she called out, “Lucas?”

Her horse nickered, beckoning her like the elegant, liver chestnut Morgan queen she was. Maxine had been her grandmother’s last broodmare before retiring several years ago. She was always Juliette’s favorite. Juliette petted her, and Maxine pressed her head into Juliette’s sternum as if she knew Juliette needed that extra bit of love. As she leaned in to kiss Maxine’s head, she realized Warrior wasn’t in his stall.

Juliette’s stomach bottomed out, and she ran out the back door. “Lucas!” She scanned the pasture, but she knew he was gone. She never let him ride when he was angry. She worried he’d make a mistake, or take too big a risk and get hurt.

She quickly saddled Maxine, hoping she wasn’t too far behind Lucas, and cursed herself for not coming down sooner as she climbed on. With her heart in her throat, she leaned forward, guiding Maxine at a fast clip toward the entrance to the trail she and Lucas had ridden most often. But fast wasn’t nearly fast enough.

With a tap of her heels, and a “Hya!” the horse bolted up the trailhead.

Chapter Nine

AFTER FINISHING HIS evening rounds, Doc checked his phone for the umpteenth time and cursed at the blank screen. It had been a hell of a day, and he’d hoped to hear from Juliette by now. He’d been up half the night sick with worry about how the truth would affect Lucas, and he hated not being there when Juliette broke the news to him. But to Lucas he was an outsider, and he trusted that Juliette knew what was best for their son.

He was still grappling with the fact that he had a son and trying to decide what to do about Juliette’s asshole father.

He pocketed his phone as he headed out of the clinic to catch dinner at the main house and found Dare and Cowboy leaning against a UTV, their arms crossed, their cowboy hats firmly in place. Last night he’d gone to see his parents after Juliette left and told them what was going on in a furious explosion of hurt and anger and a deep-seated need for vengeance. His parents were as angry as he was at what Juliette’s father had done. His mother had shed tears over what Juliette had been through, for the time Doc had missed with his son, and the years they’d missed out on with their grandson. Doc and his father had talked into the night about retaliating against Juliette’s father, and this morning he’d explained the situation to his brothers and Sasha, and they were as angry as the rest of them.

They’d all checked in with him throughout the day, but their hovering didn’t bother him this time. This was a lot to deal with, and they were worried about Juliette and Lucas, too. He eyed his brothers curiously. “What’s going on?”

“We missed your pretty face.” Dare smirked.

“How’s Queenie?” Cowboy asked.

Queenie was the name Doc had given the rescue horse who had been in critical condition when she’d come in yesterday. He’d named the other horse Contessa, the regal names chosen to give them back some of the dignity that had been stolen from them. They’d been found tied to trees, left to starve in an empty field. They were emaciated, with varying degrees of cuts, skin infections, hair loss, and injuries. If Doc ever found the fucker who’d done that to them, he’d put the asshole six feet under. “She’s strong. She’s hanging in there.”

“Good, and you?” Cowboy asked. “Any word from Juliette?”

Doc shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Then get your ass in the vehicle,” Dare said.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“To get some grub,” Dare said.

“And don’t even think about telling us you’re not hungry or you want to be alone, because that shit ain’t happening,” Cowboy added.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a pushy motherfucker?” Doc asked as they climbed into the vehicle.

Cowboy chuckled. “Just about everyone I know.”

“Have you decided what to do about Juliette’s old man yet?” Dare started the UTV.

“Not yet. I called Reggie Steele. He’s seeing what he can dig up on him.” Reggie had grown up in Trusty, Colorado, a nearby town. He was a private investigator whose brothers were Dark Knights in the Harborside chapter. Reggie had been instrumental in connecting Sully with her biological sister and helping to shut down the cult she’d escaped from. Doc also asked Reggie to find out what he could about Ana, the housekeeper Juliette had given the letters to, and to track down Ana’s brother, who had supposedly given those letters to him.

When they pulled up to the main house, Birdie’s yellow Camaro was driving into the parking lot, music blaring out her open windows, and she was singing “Can’t Tame Her” at the top of her lungs. It was one of her favorite songs.

“I’ll catch up with you guys.” Doc headed for Birdie’s car. His I’m fine responses to her texts earlier in the week had finally put an end to them, but he hadn’t had a chance to fill her in on what went down yesterday.

She parked and climbed out of her car, belting out the lyrics and dancing, oblivious to the lack of music and to Doc closing in on her. She wore bright pink cowgirl boots, a wide-brimmed pink hat, and a one-piece blue-and-white leopard-print shorts romper with flouncy sleeves.

He crossed his arms, chuckling to himself as she swung her hips into the driver’s side door, slamming it shut, then threw her arms over her head and began singing a different song. Something about slowing down and making it last as she spun around, nearly colliding with him, and let out a surprised squeal.