"Is that an order?"
"Yeah." He stepped back. "I'll call the clubhouse Tuesday around seven o'clock. Make sure you're around to answer."
Needing air, he went back outside, lit another cigarette, and tried to figure out what Faye coming around Tarkio meant. When she was working in Superior, he was lucky enough not to see her for months. Hell, it'd been almost six months before she showed up at his house.
During that time, he'd mailed her money that she'd mailed back. It was the only way he could remind her that she belonged to him.
"Fuck," he muttered, bringing the smoke up to his lips.
What if something went wrong? She had no way of getting ahold of Walker without writing him a letter or waiting for a phone call from him. If she needed help, he'd be out of town. He wasn't confident that she'd approach the clubhouse.
Priest walked out of the building. "Warm them up, men."
It was going to be a long ride to California to oversee the marijuana crops brought in and distributed. Worried about his old lady, he took one more drag and snuffed the cigarette out with his boot.
Priest walked over to him. "Ready?"
"Yeah. The sooner we get out of here, the faster we can get home."
"What's your hurry?" asked Priest.
"Faye." He walked over to his Harley and started the engine.
It was times like now that he'd give his left nut to talk to Walker again. Brother to brother.
But that would never happen. Walker had made it clear where Curley stood after he claimed Faye.
Chapter 5
Faye
Tracy walked into the living room, carrying a glass of water and a wine cooler. Faye took the bottle and sipped the chilled liquid.
"Will you listen to that?" Tracy lifted her brows. "That's the sound of calmness."
With the babies put to bed, the only noise was the slight hum coming from the baby monitor on the coffee table.
"I don't know how you don't collapse once the kids are bathed and put in their rooms. Girl, you're the strongest woman I know." Faye leaned back on the couch. "I'm exhausted from watching you keep everything together by yourself."
Tracy flapped her hand, disregarding the compliment. "I'm gaining my second wind. I've got hours left in me."
"Yet, you give me the alcohol. I'll probably start yawning before you." She licked her upper lip and raised her brows. "Do you remember when we stole a beer from the clubhouse and drank it in one of the empty rooms?"
Tracy groaned. "I remember all the cotton candy and corndogs we ate at the fair beforehand because it all came up." Tracy groaned, shaking her head. "What were we...six years old?"
"Seven." She sighed. "That was a good day, despite getting sick, and then your dad grounding us, so Uncle Walker and your mom had to take us home and miss the party."
Tracy stared at her without commenting.
Aware of something going on but not understanding what, she asked, "What are you thinking?"
Tracy gave her head a small shake. "Nothing."
"It's something. What?"
"You talk about the past as if it was normal." Tracy put her glass on the coffee table, then curled her feet up under her on the sofa. "Do you know how nice that is to hear?"
She wasn't following. They shared a past. Of course, she was going to remember bits and pieces she hadn't thought about in years.
"Don't you talk about your past with Rick?" she asked.
"Yeah, but it's different." Tracy shrugged. "He listens, but he wasn't there. Besides the Tarkio members and my brother, you knew my family. I guess it surprised me to hear you talk about my dad as if..."
"As if he's still alive?" she whispered. "I understand. Sometimes, I just want to talk about Uncle Walker, but I hold back because I don't want to explain where he is now with people who don't know the story. I'm sure it's that way with you and your folks."
Good times were turned into memories because speaking about them often brought more pain than joy. She was the same way when she thought of Uncle Walker or Grandma June. Or, Curley.
"Look at us." Tracy snorted. "Adults and living life, moving on, and—"
"Unemployed." Faye sipped from her bottle. "At least I am."
It wasn't only her who was out of a job. She had three friends who also quit because of her, and she felt responsible. If she could grow the nursery business, she'd hire them to work for her, but the greenhouse wasn't big enough, and the land was too small. That's why she needed to work a second job. She had big plans and little time.
"What about getting a job at the casino?" Tracy grabbed the throw pillow and hugged it to her stomach. "Though, from what I hear, they have a high turnover of employees. It doesn't seem like people stay there long."
She'd already thought of contacting the casino. The Blackfoot Resort & Casino was run by the Native Americans. She knew even less about how they ran their business, being part of the reservation. Not under the watch of the government, they had their own laws and regulations—that could be good or bad for her. She wanted a steady job, but if they hired outsiders only to lay them off, she'd be better trying somewhere else.
She stared at the framed picture of Tracy, Rick, and the babies sitting on the fireplace mantel. "Enough about my joblessness. Tell me how you met Rick."
Tracy laughed softly. "Oh, that's a story you don't want to hear."
"Well, you've made me curious." She turned sideways. "Tell me."
"The short version, he walked out of prison and went to the clubhouse. I gave him a BJ and—"
"Wait." She laughed. "You gave him a blow job?"
"Worse." She grinned. "I gave a complete stranger a blow job, and he was high on drugs because he had some injuries to his feet."
"Oh, my God. Tell me more," she said.
"Well, he started working at the Towing company, and things were up and down for a long time, but we worked it all out."
"Sex stuff with a stranger." Faye sighed. "I didn't know you had it in you."
"To be fair. I knew who he was before he arrived in Missoula. He was in the same cell as Whip when he was on the inside."
She leaned forward. "What was he in for?"
"Murder." Tracy scrunched her nose. "Seven years."
"Hm." She looked away.
No matter how many court cases she studied, she couldn't understand how some people got less than others for the same crime. Sure, Uncle Walker killed two people, but he was in for a total of twenty-five years.
"You'll have to take my word for it that he's a good man," said Tracy.
"Oh, I trust you. As long as you're happy, and I can see that you are, I'm thrilled for you." She smiled. "You and all your babies."
Tracy grinned. "Crazy how life changed, huh?"
For her friend, all the changes were good.
For her, the jury was still out.
"Do you hear that?" Tracy got up from the couch and walked to the window. "A rider is coming up the driveway. I am so glad the babies can sleep through anything."