I hear Dante’s rumbling voice—“What happened? What did you find out?”
I quickly summarize again.
There’s silence when I finish, Cal and Dante digesting what I’ve said.
Then Cal says, “That slimy little shit.”
Cal’s only met Josh once or twice, but I don’t think he liked him any more than I did. Cal’s always had a particular hatred of suck-ups and brown-nosers. I think it comes from his days at that fancy private school, where other kids would try to leech on to him because of our family name.
“If we leave now, we can probably get him at the office,” Dante growls.
“Better call Uncle Oran and warn him,” I say. “If you just show up there and grab his employee, he’s going to be startled.”
“Yeah, I will,” Cal says.
“We’ll get the contract details out of Josh, so we can call off the hit,” Dante assures me. “I don’t care if I have to pull out every fucking fingernail and tooth in his body.”
“I doubt it will come to that,” I say. “He’s kind of a little bitch.”
“It won’t take long,” Cal says. “You can start packing your bag to come home again.”
My heart gives a little lurch in my chest.
I glance quickly over at Raylan, to see his expression. His face is still, but a muscle jumps at the corner of his jaw.
I had almost forgotten that I’d be going back to Chicago once we’d figured out who the fuck was trying to kill me. As soon as Cal and Dante get Josh, they’ll be able to wring the details of the hit out of him. Then they can call back the marker. The Djinn is just a hitman for hire—he doesn’t have any grudge against me.
The idea of being free of that shroud is certainly appealing. I want to be able to go where I like and do what I like again, without worrying about some boogeyman popping out at me.
But on the other hand . . . I’m not entirely excited to leave the ranch. I was actually enjoying myself here.
Still, Cal’s waiting to hear my response. So I lick my dry lips and say, “Yeah. I’m excited to come home. I missed you guys.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done,” Cal says.
He hangs up without actually saying goodbye, like he’s in a movie. Aida always teases him about that. “Too busy and important to waste half a second, Mr. Alderman?”
I don’t mind. I’m impatient, too. And I don’t care about little formalities.
I’m much more concerned with the strange tension between Raylan and me. It started with our disagreement over Josh. And now it seems to have expanded to fill the whole space of the kitchen.
“I’m sure Dante and Callum will handle it,” Raylan says, as if he’s reassuring me.
“I know,” I reply.
I don’t think that’s what either of us is actually worried about, but it’s the easiest thing to address.
Raylan hesitates. His blue eyes search my face, as if he’s trying to read me like he usually does, but for once he’s coming up blank.
“Do you want to go back?” he asks me.
“Well . . . I have to,” I say. “I’ve already missed so much work. And with Josh gone . . . I know it sounds stupid, because apparently he’s a treacherous asshole, but he did handle a huge workload. Somebody’s got to pick up the slack. Not to mention it’s pretty clear who’s getting the partnership now.”
“Congratulations,” Raylan says dully.
My chest feels tight. I know I should be happy. I’m finally getting what I worked toward for years. I’ll have my name on the door and on the letterhead. I’ll be a partner, not just an employee. I’ll be equal to my uncle in my father’s eyes. And I can just imagine how Uncle Oran will sweep me into one of his stiff, tight hugs that smells of cigar smoke, saying in his raspy voice, “Well done, girl.”
I want those things, as badly as I’ve ever wanted them. But I also want the look of hurt to disappear from Raylan’s eyes.
“You’ll come back with me, won’t you?” I ask him.
He lets out a little exhale of air. “Well . . . you won’t exactly need a bodyguard anymore, will you? And that’s a good thing,” he hastens to add.
“Right,” I say. It’s true. Still, I feel a little dull at that realization.
Which is ridiculous. Did I think Raylan was going to follow me around everywhere for the rest of my life?
The whole point was to figure out who hired the hitman and get back to normal existence.
That’s done. Or, almost done.
“Besides,” Raylan says quietly. “I don’t plan to go out on any more jobs. At least not in the foreseeable future. You probably saw my mom broke her foot—it’ll heal up fine, but she’s gonna break it again if she keeps working as hard as she has been. I’ve let her and Grady and Bo run this place too long. It’s time for me to make a choice if I want a stake in it or not. It’s not fair for me to let them do all the work, acting like I can come back any time I want.”
“So . . . you want to be a rancher?” I ask him.
“I am a rancher,” he says. “I just did other things for a while. I don’t ever want this place chopped up and sold. This is home.”
If Raylan would have told me that before I ever saw this place, I would have thought he was crazy. Who would want to live in Tennessee, after having traveled the world?
But I’ve seen with my own eyes how beautiful Birch Haven is. How endless in scope. I’ve seen how connected Raylan is to his family, and the animals, and the people around here. He was gone for years, and when he came home again it was like barely any time had passed. That’s how strong his bond is with this place—it can’t be eroded by time or distance.
I feel the same way about Chicago, in some ways. I’ve lived there all my life. I know its sights, its sounds, its smells. But I’m just one person out of millions in Chicago. Whereas Raylan is needed here. His family and the ranch depend on him for survival, in the long term.
“I understand,” I tell him.
“You do?” he says.
“Yes. This is a corner of the earth you own. That’s different than just living somewhere.”
He nods slowly.
And of course, there’s the other part of it. I know from what Celia told me that Raylan left here in anger, thinking that he didn’t actually belong to this place. But that was never really true. It was always his home. And he was always meant to come back here, to heal that wound.
I think he’s finally ready to do that.
I shouldn’t say anything to prevent that from happening. I think he needs it. Badly.
I don’t know how to bring up what I know, but I don’t want to keep it secret from him, either.
“Your mom told me what happened right before you enlisted,” I say. “She told me about your father.”
“Waya was my father,” Raylan says at once.
“I know!” I say quickly. “That’s what I meant.”
Raylan looks at me with a strange expression. “I’m surprised she told you,” he says. “She doesn’t like to talk about that. Obviously,” he gives a short, mirthless laugh, totally unlike his usual laugh. “Since I never heard about it for eighteen years.”