Fuck. I’m definitely going to need bail money.
Claire slipped off Darcy’s body and gained her feet. Her hair dipped into her eyes and she smoothed it back, still feeling the sharp pull on her scalp. “You seem resourceful, Darcy. Make it happen.”
Darcy launched to her feet, looking almost as perfect as she had on the street and before the cat fight. “When do I get the alpaca?”
“As soon as we stop seeing your family around the ranch.”
Darcy eyed her, uncertain.
Claire stuck out her hand. “Deal?”
Darcy looked at her hand as if she’d start smacking her around again. But finally, she placed her smooth hand into Claire’s. They gave a hard shake then released. Claire scrubbed her hand over her thigh. “If you live up to your side of the bargain, I’ll deliver Boomerang—” she choked on the long name, “—to the fairgrounds and enter her in your name.”
Darcy’s smile curdled the last bit of control Claire clung to. “I’ll see you there. And dress her pretty. Like photo number thirty-four.”
With that, the girl sashayed out of the aisle.
Claire looked up to see an employee staring at the mess they’d made. Ordinarily, Claire would apologize and pick up every box. But not today. Tears choked her.
Spinning on a heel, she ran out of the drugstore. She hopped into the Buick, praying it would start, and was halfway out of town before she realized she hadn’t gotten Letty any cold medicine.
* * * * *
The sky hung heavily, studded with so many stars, it dizzied Tucker. He closed his eyes against the assault of the small pinpricks of light and sighed.
“Always loved it up here. I’ve sat on this ridge more than one night of my life.”
Christian shifted. His arms were slung around his knees, his outline a dark blob. But Tucker detected the faint notes of Christian’s freshly showered scent. This was the thirdnight they’d sat up here watching for his family to come and try to sabotage the things Tucker had worked for. While it wasn’t exactly a perfect way to spend time with a person he loved, Tucker was glad to steal these moments. Although Claire had been left out.
“A good place to sit and think,” Tucker went on.
“What’s there to think about?” Christian asked. His playful tone plucked at the frayed edges of Tucker’s nerves and smoothed them.
Still, Tucker felt like talking and Christian needed to hear it.
“After Heather was killed, I sat here a lot, raging at the forces that stole her from me. I didn’t know how to go on. What my purpose was anymore.”
“Raising horses has always been your path.” Christian’s low voice was balm.
Tucker nodded, though it was unlikely Christian noticed the slight movement in the darkness. “That’s true. Always will be. That’s why I’m so pissed off that people who share my blood would try to take that away from me in more ways than one.”
The air had dropped several degrees since he and Christian performed the evening chores. As usual, Claire had hung around them while they’d tucked the horses in for the night and put away the chickens. But tonight her eyes were especially haunting.
Or haunted?
“We’ll see that your family doesn’t take your ranch or injure more horses,” Christian said.
“They’ve never understood my drive to make something of this land,” Tucker went on. He plucked a few blades of grass from the earth and crushed them between thumb and forefinger. “Leon thinks hard work is defined by how much time you spend on the phone with a company willing to pay for your things. And Dale…well, he’s just a puppet.”
“What of the girl? The sister?”
Tucker pressed his lips together. “I didn’t know you knew about Darcy.”
“A bit. I hear things. Well…” he chuckled, “…Claire hears things. At the diner.”
“Yeah, about Mr. Simmons’s bunions.”
“She doesn’t like to know all of the things people tell her.” Christian’s statement wasmade so quietly, offhandedly. But the weight of it fisted Tucker’s gut. That Claire had been forced to make small talk with people she sometimes didn’t like and made to listen to their troubles, gossip or even their fantasies, bothered him. He’d had the funds to care for her all of this time and had been too selfish to think of it until recently.
