“I like that idea,” I tell her. Then, looking at Grady, I say, “If it’s all right with your dad, I’ll take you to the barn so you can have one more quick look. It’ll only be five minutes.”
Grady keeps his gaze averted, but nods.
“That’s fine, I guess, if you hurry.”
I lead them outside then, very deliberately keeping my eyes on the barn, fighting the urge to look back.
Because if I do, if I see his sad, hard, hangdog face one more time...
No.
Just no.
I can’t let it end like this, but it’s already dying, and it’s a slow acid drip on my soul.
It doesn’t take long for the girls to wave Bruce farewell behind the chain-link mesh. He even stands up, licks his chops, and shows off his princely coat of tangerine cut with fierce black zigzags.
The cat lets out a final loud rolling purr for them that they love.
If I had my head on straight, this is a moment I’d kill to capture for research, a raging question in the interspecies emotional IQ of Bengal tigers.
Instead, I’m so effing shredded it’s hard to even stand.
But their smiles make me feel so much better, even as a hot tear races down my cheek, and they’re far more agreeable about going to Joyce’s when we return to the house. They head upstairs to pack their bags.
Alone again, Grady shakes his head and shrugs.
“Thanks. Those plaques are a hell of a nice touch. Really thoughtful,” he says.
It’s not my place, but I can’t help what comes pouring out.
“Look, I know you’re just trying to protect them, Grady, but I wish you’d realize...there are some things not even you can protect them from. Saying goodbye is one of those things. It’s a part of life. And they just did it without hurting a hair on their heads. They’ll have a new memory to cherish, even if they’re sad right now.”
“Maybe so. There are some things I don’t want them exposed to, and that’s how it’s gonna stay,” he says firmly.
His dark-brown eyes cut me so deep, but I’m too proud and too stubborn to let him see me cry over losing him.
“I know. I understand. I just think learning how to cope, how to deal with things, is better than avoiding them.” I step around him. “I’ll go see if they need any help packing.”
Joyce arrives a short time later, and though I hadn’t seen her since that first day they came home, she’s as friendly as ever, bubbly as if we’re long-lost friends.
I assure her the head lice panic ended without issue, and I hold on to each girl a little longer than I normally would when I hug them bye.
Joyce’s car is barely out of sight when Faulk arrives, closely followed by Drake, Hank, Weston, and Ridge. His butler—or valet as he calls him—Tobin, is also along for the ride. To my surprise, Tory, Bella, and Grace are there with their husbands, as well as Roberta, Hank’s girlfriend.
“What’s this?” Grady booms behind me, coming outside.
“You called the cavalry, man, so we came in force,” Ridge says with his billion-dollar movie-star smile. “More hands on deck than you could need, and let’s hope it’s more than enough.”
They congregate in the kitchen like it’s a makeshift war room. Tobin starts brewing coffee. The women try to make pleasant conversation, but I mostly just nod and mutter a few words.
I’m sick with nerves.
Everyone here is now a part of my mess.
I have to see this through.
18
Wrapped in a Woman’s Hide (Grady)
I can tell Willow’s overwhelmed by all the people in the room, and though I want to tell her none of them would have it any other way—that’s how we roll in Dallas when someone’s in need—I hold my tongue.
This whole fucked up escapade made me take a hard look at my life, at everything I’ve lost, and might like to recapture again.
Someday.
That thought lingers in my gut as I glance at the women in the room. All wives and mothers now happily married to my best friends. Men I appreciate and feel damn proud to have standing by my side in any conflict, especially this one.
After arriving home from the bar last night, I talked to Faulk. We mapped out the plan we’ll be sharing with everyone this morning.
“We’re all here and caffeinated, Grady,” Faulk says, nudging my side as he takes a loud slurp of coffee. “Go ahead.”
The room grows quiet.
I look at Willow for the briefest moment, wondering when I’ll ever be ready to let love into my life again.
Real love.
Lasting love.
Sweet and tender and intense-as-hell passion.
Watching her give the girls those plaques this morning and seeing their reactions made me wish the answer was now.
And a deep, aching part of me wishes it was with her.
Taking a deep breath, I give her a nod and start slowly.
“Well, as you all know, there’s a big-ass tiger in my barn who’d be dead if it wasn’t for Willow Macklin. The Exotic Plains Rescue in Minot is bad news and it’s been confirmed—” I pause, glancing at Drake. “The people who own the place have sent employees, goons, whatever you want to call them, to Dallas to investigate the tiger sighting that went viral on Facebook. They’re trying to beat the Feds here, who could come swarming in any time, which means getting Bruce out of here is gonna be tight. But we need to move like lightning because once the FBI follows up on Exotic Plains for their black-market dealings, having an illegal tiger in my barn means very bad shit for me, my girls, and the town.”
Willow frowns at me. I wish I’d given her the crib notes before my big briefing. I could’ve last night, but I knew where that would lead.
Either her slapping me across the face or another romp in the basement, or hell, maybe both.
“So, tomorrow morning, we’re gonna have a convoy of half a dozen trucks and trailers leaving the area. Only one will have the tiger in the trailer; the rest will be decoys. Tobin and a couple other folks have generously decided to help with the diversion...”
I pause, looking at Ridge’s ice-cold butler, who nods. Tobin gives me a rare smirk, pushing his glasses up his aquiline nose.
Normally, I’d laugh. This guy is a human robot, and I think he’s actually having fun for once.
“Whoever’s looking to follow,” I continue, “or possibly trying to intercept the tiger, is going to have a hard time finding the right one. After all those trailers leave, the one that belongs to Exotic Plains will be delivered at the airstrip they use to transfer and sell exotics.”
“Yep, the FBI has the GPS coordinates for that runway,” Faulk says, holding up his phone. “And I just got confirmation they’ll be arriving both there and in Minot sometime tomorrow.”
I nod.
“That just about covers it,” I say, clapping my hands together for dismissal.
For the next few hours, we break up into small groups, mapping out routes that our decoys will take north, south, east, and west.
A couple will take off a few hours ahead at dawn and go through Montana and South Dakota, all the way to the Wyoming state line. The others will only drive an hour or so from town before turning around and doing it again.