“Yeah, he didn’t seem to believe me either.”
“When his father’s mind began slipping, it was devastating. To see it happen to his brother . . . I think he worries that maybe he’ll be next.”
That was my fear too. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it if my father looked at me and didn’t remember my name.
“We can’t leave this alone,” I said. Not only because he might cause himself harm, but because he might cause harm to others.
Over the past week, since I’d delivered those boots to Winn at the station, I’d thought a lot about this situation. Briggs had most likely found those boots while he was hiking. He’d always been disconnected from events in town, and even if he had heard about Lily Green’s suicide, I doubted he would have put the pieces together.
I’m sure he would have expected that she’d died with shoes on her feet. Winn had told me they’d confirmed the boots as Lily’s.
But that outburst in the truck, when we’d argued over the month, had plagued me daily. Briggs wasn’t a violent man. Except there were times when he simply wasn’t Briggs.
Could he have stumbled on Lily? Could he have found her on Indigo Ridge and done the unthinkable?
No. Never. He wouldn’t have taken the time to remove her boots. No, she had to have done that. She had to have jumped.
Lily Green and Briggs Eden had nothing to do with the other.
“Give Dad time. He’ll make the right decision.”
“He will.” She pulled away and poured the dregs of her coffee into the sink, rinsing it clean. “What are you doing today?”
“Moving cattle to the forest service.”
“Then I’ll get out of your hair. I just wanted to see your face. You’ve been scarce lately.”
“I saw you Tuesday.”
“For a whole five minutes to drop off the mail.” She turned and walked out of the kitchen, pausing before she could disappear down the hallway to the front door. “Bring Winslow around for dinner one night.”
“That’s not really our kind of relationship, Mom.”
“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea of your kind of relationship. But you can bring her by regardless. Your father speaks highly of her and I’d like to meet her. I suspect she’ll be part of this community long after you two quit one another. Covie is her only family left now that her parents are dead, and I’d like her to know that she’s got more than her grandfather pulling for her to make Quincy home.”
“Hold up.” There was a lot there to appreciate. My mother’s warm and inviting heart. But my head was wrapped around something else. “Her parents are dead?”
“For a couple of years now, I think. They were killed in an accident in Bozeman.”
But I’d just seen their photo in her office last week. I’d met them years ago at Willie’s when they’d been here to visit Covie. How had I been sleeping with Winn and not known that her parents had been killed? “I didn’t know.”
“Covie didn’t talk much about it. He didn’t tell many people in town that they died.”
“Really? Why?”
“He lost his son and his daughter-in-law. I believe they were very close. We all handle our grief differently. I think Covie went through a period of denial. Pretending life was the same was his way of coping. And he spent a lot of time in Bozeman with Winslow. He mentioned to your dad once that she was having a hard time.”
What the actual fuck? I hated that my mother knew more about this than I did. Why hadn’t Winn told me? Maybe she’d suspected that I already knew. Still, not a hint that they were gone. In fact, she hadn’t spoken much about her parents other than to remind me that her father had grown up in Quincy.
I opened my mouth to ask Mom more about it, but the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” She disappeared down the hallway, and when the door opened, I recognized Jim’s voice.
“I think he was just grabbing a cup of coffee,” Mom said. “Griffin?”
“Coming.” I chugged the rest of my cup, then strode down the hallway and out the door, where my men were waiting.
After grabbing my favorite Stetson, I waved goodbye to Mom and headed for the barn. Everyone had saddled their horses, so while they visited, I made my way to Jupiter’s stall.
“Hey, fella.” I ran my hand over his buckskin cheek, letting him nuzzle me for a moment before I went through the motions I’d done a thousand times, combing him off before strapping on his saddle.
Jupiter had been my horse for the past decade. He was the best I’d ever had. Strong and confident with a tender heart. On days I needed to clear my head, he’d do it with me. We’d ride off through the valley or into the forest and I’d unload the burdens with the steady sway of his canter.
I led him from his stall, snagging my favorite pair of chaps from a hook on the wall, then together we walked into the sunshine. “Ready for a long day?”
Jupiter answered by nudging my shoulder.
I grinned, ruffling the black tuft of hair between his ears. “Me too.”
As promised, the day was long. We rode for miles, moving the cattle into their summer grazing home in the section of the mountains that we leased from the forest service. The animals would have more grass than they could consume, and with them there, they’d help alleviate the risk of a forest fire.
On the return trip, I broke apart from the guys. They headed to the stables at Mom and Dad’s place, where they all kept their horses. It was a benefit of working on our ranch—free boarding. While I continued on alone to my place.
Home was a happy sight.
So was the woman standing beside her Durango in my driveway.
I swung off Jupiter, my legs stiff as I walked to Winn. Wearing a pair of jeans and a simple sage-green blouse, she was breathtaking.
“When I show up here, I’m going to need you to be wearing that.” She pointed from my hat to my chaps to my boots. “Every time.”
I chuckled as she moved into my space. “I’ve been in the saddle all day. I smell like a horse.”
“I don’t care.” She stood on her toes, going for my lips.
I bent, ready to take her mouth, when my horse shoved his nose between us. “Do you mind?”
Winn laughed. “Who’s this?”
“Jupiter.”
“Jupiter. Interesting name for a horse.”
“Eloise named him. Dad bought eight horses ten years ago. She was into some science project for school about the solar system, so she named them all after planets.”
“I like it.” She reached up, hesitating for a second before touching his cheek. “Hey, Jupiter.”
He nuzzled her palm. My horse was as smart as they came. He knew quality attention when he got it.
“Let me get him put away. Head on in. Make yourself at home.” I took the kiss I needed, then winked and escorted Jupiter to the barn. After getting him settled, I returned to the house, finding her on the porch, rocking in one of the chairs.
She had a beer in her hand and another ready for me.
What a sight she was.
Most days like this, I’d come home to an empty house and pray that no one showed up at my doorstep. I craved the time alone, the time to decompress. But I hadn’t had a night alone in a week. And at the moment, I didn’t want one.