Bourbon Runaway (Bourbon Canyon), page 7
“I thought I was a failure when I got divorced.”
I tipped my head and considered him. Tate was the oldest of us all—of his brothers, of me and my sisters, of all the fosters who’d been through Mama’s house. He was infallible. I often forgot he was just a guy going through life wondering if he was making the right decisions.
Only he had. Maybe he and his ex hadn’t been meant to be, but they were amicable. They co-parented around his ex’s heavy travel schedule. His wife, Scarlett, glowed each time I saw her, and not just when she was pregnant. My friend was happy in a way she never had been when she’d been single and would shyly drop her gaze when Autumn and I talked about Tate.
“You succeeded even in divorce,” I pointed out. He hadn’t broken her heart and she hadn’t lashed out and done something stupid.
“Divorce has a way of making everything feel like the opposite of success.” He scowled at me. “How did we end up talking about me again?”
I smiled. “Busted.”
“You’re the most stubborn of us all.”
“Take that back! I cannot out-stubborn Junie.”
He rocked his head from side to side. “You’re right. But we’re not talking about her. You can come to me if you need anything. I’m not my wife or Autumn, or Junie or Wynter, but you can talk to me. I won’t fly off the handle. I’d like to think I’ve matured in my old age.”
“I guess I just wanted an escape. I had to figure out how I felt first.”
He nodded. “I can see that. Jonah would definitely give you the space.”
A string tugged at my heart. Jonah had given me space, yet he’d been close when I’d needed someone to understand. We weren’t friends, but we also weren’t not friends. “He doesn’t go to town very much, does he?”
Tate’s lips pressed together, like he was deciding what to say. “Teller said he leaves more than we think. I mean, he has to get groceries and get supplies for his business.”
“Right, the business. I had no idea he built furniture.”
“Everyone knows. His pieces disappear as soon as there’s a sales tag on them. So he’s going to town for drop-offs, and, uh . . . Plus, I mean . . .” He cleared his throat.
“What?” I narrowed my eyes on my brother. Was he blushing?
“He’s a guy.” He glanced at me, but I had no idea what he was getting at. Jonah being a man was the first thing I’d noticed about him. Tate sighed. “He has, you know, needs.”
I gasped, my primordial brain registering what Tate meant before I could mull it over like an adult. “He goes to town to get laid?”
“I don’t know if he and Jackie Weller have a thing or—”
“Jackie Weller?”
“I don’t think it’s serious.”
I’d disliked her before, and when I crossed paths with her, I preferred to pretend she didn’t exist. She had been Jonah’s on-again, off-again high school girlfriend. Then after school, she’d married a guy who’d come through town to work for the oil fields and Eli had said she’d left Jonah without a word. Made him feel like crap.
I’d known she’d gotten a divorce and taken her maiden name back, but that she was hooking up with Jonah? Or more? That was news.
He would’ve mentioned a girlfriend, right? I hadn’t fucked up a relationship, had I?
A relationship. “How serious are they?”
“Can’t be too serious since she’s at the bar every weekend. I’ve seen her hopping in other guys’ trucks.”
A booty call. My relief wasn’t acute. The tightness remained in my shoulders and the anger hadn’t subsided. Why would Jonah keep seeing Jackie? She treated him like dirt. “I don’t like her.”
Tate’s gaze intensified. “Not many people do.”
My skin itched from his scrutiny. “He deserves better.” I wasn’t jealous. I was surprised. That was all.
“Preaching to the choir, sis.”
Sis. Another nickname. Like Mama’s honey, sweet pea, and my precious girls, I had shared that nickname with others. Generic. Some would argue that sunshine was as generic of an endearment as you could get, but I held it to me as something Jonah had called only me.
Tate was still watching me. I had to get inside and sort my thoughts. Like why I glowed inside like sunshine when Jonah called me that. I needed to rest and process the last few days. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Remember what I said.”
I definitely would, but we likely weren’t thinking about the same statements. I got out and grabbed one of my suitcases. Tate retrieved the other.
Mama was already opening the door.
“Hey, Mama.” I entered and set my bag down.
Tate came in, toed his boots off, gave Mama a peck on the cheek, and took the luggage I’d carried in. He went into the house and downstairs to the bedroom I’d be staying in.
I hung my winter coat up next to the one I had to return to Jonah. I had been tempted to wear it, but the fit was way too large to justify it to Mama or Tate.
She gave me a hug, squeezing almost as hard as she had yesterday. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, but that was where they stayed. Was it abnormal that I hadn’t cried over Boyd?
She stepped back. “Wynter and Autumn are coming over tonight. Is that okay?”
Yesterday, she’d been busy outside, taking care of the chickens and checking on the horses and cattle with Tenor and Myles’s brothers. Mostly, I thought she’d been giving me space. I didn’t deserve Mama. “I’m sorry I left so suddenly.” I’d already said it, but it needed repeating. She wouldn’t bring up the wedding until I did. Did she worry I’d go hide in another mountain cabin?
“Don’t ever be sorry for taking care of yourself.”
If taking care of myself meant barely dressing, that was what I was doing. I wore an old pair of red flannel pajama pants and a fluffy Montana State sweater. My hair was limp and I was makeup-free. Boyd would be disgusted if he could see me. I was comfortable.
“I am surprised who you sought refuge with.” Mama could be nosy when she wanted, but she was the queen of leading sentences.
“You and me both.” I shuffled to the kitchen table. Two steaming mugs were on the table, and she had a bottle of french vanilla creamer sitting by one. Tate must’ve texted her before we left Bozeman to let her know when we’d arrive.
I sank into the chair. She took a seat while I was topping off my coffee with International Delight.
“Jonah was there when I needed him,” I said, needing to explain why I hadn’t turned to her. She wouldn’t take it personally, but I had to let her know my choice wasn’t personal. Leaving with Jonah of all people was most definitely a personal choice, but I was already mixed up enough. I let the thought go.
“I heard what Jonah did.” When I looked at her, I caught the smile playing over her lips. She’d known the whole story when I’d called her from the cabin and she’d kept most of the knowledge to herself. “Corinne Harrington wasn’t as quiet as she hoped when she cornered Boyd in his dressing room and chewed him out. She yelled at him for not being able to overpower, I quote, ‘that horribly scarred man with the cane.’ ”
“I’m surprised that’s the worst of what she said.” I dug my teeth into my lower lip. “I should’ve seen it coming.”
“Aw, Summer. You take on too much responsibility. It’s his duty to be a good person, and hitting his fiancée ain’t it.”
“Jonah said the same thing.” Despite the curiosity in her eyes, I didn’t care to talk about my time with Jonah. It had been cathartic, restful, and short, but long enough to bridge the gap that had formed between us since I’d last seen him in the hospital. “Is it all right if I stay a few days before I return to work?”
She frowned. “I thought you were staying the whole time.”
Jonah had encouraged me to take all my time off, but I’d invited myself over to Mama’s without asking if she had room for me. I knew she did. She’d make room even if she didn’t, but I didn’t want to assume. I also didn’t care to dwell on how I wished I was in a quiet mountain cabin with unusually strong Wi-Fi and almost no fresh produce. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here, but I also want to work.”
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
She meant, could I face everyone? My story was out there. Boyd Harrington’s wedding getting canceled at the last minute might make a splash in Bozeman. Summer Kerrigan running out on her fiancé to stay in a cabin with Jonah Dunn would burn through Bourbon Canyon like a brushfire. My next trip to the grocery store or the coffee shop would likely stop conversation when I walked by. Inevitable. I’d experienced it before, I could do it again.
“Everyone knows what happened. I might as well face the chatter, and really, I’d rather be busy.”
“I’m sure Teller and Tenor would arrange a way for you to work from Bourbon Canyon’s location if you want out of the house.”
So tempting. But also exposing. My family worked at Copper Summit, but everyone at Copper Summit was considered my inner circle. Out of everyone, they’d know the real details.
She patted my hand. “Think about it for a while. Do what you need to here. If you have to take over the kitchen table, do it.”
I stared at the wood grain of the table. A standard wood table. Jonah’s work was functional art.
I had to quit thinking about him. I could work at home until it was time for me to return to the office with no Balinese tan. I could help the guys and Mama with chores and soak up my daily dose of fresh air and sunshine.
But if I used Bourbon Canyon’s headquarters to get some work done, I’d be out and about. I could run to town and get some coffee. After my first trip, my stops would get less awkward and I would be less self-conscious. I would be out and about more. And maybe I would see Jonah again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Summer
Autumn was in the bar area of Copper Summit when I was done working. When I’d asked Tenor if I could use some space to work remotely, he and Teller had made it happen. If they hadn’t, Wynter would’ve made me share her desk, but there was an empty office on the top floor where I could look over the mountains that were once mined for copper. Our view was pristine. On the other side, off of Bailey land, half the mountain had been carved away.
“Hey.” I slid onto a barstool. “Are we drinking here?”
Autumn frowned as she tapped through her tablet. She was doing inventory and her auburn hair was piled on top of her head. She was dressed in loose slacks, a white turtleneck, and a cranberry cardigan. Since it was a Thursday, she’d probably come straight from her classroom. Wynter hadn’t been tending bar as much now that she was so pregnant, and Autumn had taken over. Teller insisted she was working too much, but Autumn ignored him like usual. “We can. There’d be somewhere to sleep when we got shitfaced.”
“It’s no fun to get plastered where family can see us.”
She smirked and closed the cover on the tablet. “You sound very Junie right now.”
“I’m not on stage, getting panties thrown at me.”
“I thought some dude threw his jock strap.”
“That was at last month’s show.” My country-star sister was making her way up the fame ladder, but she still had some very small-town-bar experiences.
“Let’s go to Curly’s.” She went to the safe to lock the tablet in.
My stomach rumbled at the thought of homemade buns and cinnamon butter at Curly’s Canyon Grill. “Are you taking over inventory for Wynter?”
“Yep,” she answered, popping the p. “Can’t have me doing man’s work.”
I frowned. Our parents weren’t like that. Neither were my brothers. Daddy had taught all of us ranch work and distillery duties. We’d settled into our preferences. Autumn taught third grade and sometimes worked the bar we kept to showcase the spirits via cocktails. “What work do you want to do?”
She shook her head and puffed a lock of hair out of her face. “It’s nothing. I’m just cranky today. Ready?”
The older sister in me wanted to keep pushing, but I was in a period of my life where I didn’t want to be prodded either. My sisters could poke me right back. So I left off. “Curly’s it is. We can complete the circle of feminism and disappoint Curly that we aren’t our brothers.”
She laughed. “You noticed he prefers them too?”
My sisters and I got booths in the back. We were Kerrigans. He put the Baileys front and center so the town could see its most influential family was visiting his establishment. Curly was a dick, but his restaurant served good food and there were few choices in a town as small as Bourbon Canyon.
Fifteen minutes later, we were getting seated at the second-to-last booth from the back. “Did you see the jumbo muffins he has at the counter?”
She nodded. “I might have to buy a couple of the strawberry-cream-cheese ones.”
We’d joked about drinking but both of us ordered our Coke with nothing but ice. The server dropped the sodas off and took our order.
I stirred my drink with my straw after she left. “We should’ve asked Scarlett to join us. I worry she’ll think I don’t want to include her anymore, but she’s been so busy with the littles.” And Chance had taken to her so thoroughly, with his own mom on the road so often.
A forlorn expression crossed Autumn’s features. “I’m sure she’s enjoying her new wife-and-mother role,” she said wistfully.
My heart went out to my sister. Autumn loved kids, but staying in Bourbon Canyon to work was like trading a work life for a love life. She’d used dating apps, but the options in town weren’t for her and no one else wanted to downshift from a bigger city to Bourbon Canyon.
She straightened and flashed me a forced smile. “Anyway, I got the impression that you wanted to talk, and that you didn’t want anything getting back to Tate.”
“Thank you.” Despite what Tate had said, he was the brother version of me. Sometimes a little too pushy and full of advice. I wanted a shoulder right now. I needed someone to help me be myself. I’d succumbed to being Boyd’s girlfriend and then his fiancée. A future bride.
Always labels. The girl with the homeless parents. A Kerrigan, not a Bailey. Eli Dunn’s girlfriend. Then other guys’ girlfriend, followed by You know, the one from the Copper Summit family? Then all things attached to Boyd.
Sunshine was a label I didn’t mind. It was more personal. I’d like to think it was me.
Autumn leaned her elbows on the table. “Besides, I can’t get all the dirt on Jonah with them around. Spill it.”
I gave her a flat look. Protectiveness toward him formed a wall. I hadn’t come to gossip about Jonah. “There’s nothing to spill.”
Her look was dubious. My brothers often treated Autumn like a sweet summer child, isolated from the worst of life, and thankfully, she was, but she was sharp. She sniffed out my bullshit before most people. “Boyd is such a pretentious prick, and I love how he got served some piping-hot humble pie.”
I gawked at her. “You didn’t like Boyd?”
“None of us did. But we wanted to support you.”
I opened my mouth. Slammed it shut. None of them? They hadn’t told me what they thought of him. Humiliation flared hot and bright, scorching the back of my neck. “Why wouldn’t you say anything? I would’ve if it was you.”
Her gaze turned knowing. “Yeah, you would’ve. Which is why we know how it feels.” Touché. “I also didn’t think you’d actually marry the guy. And then—boom—wedding. By then, I think we all thought it was too late and you just needed our support.”
Ultimately, it’d been their encouragement that had gotten me to cancel the wedding. They didn’t act like I would’ve, but the outcome was the same. “Jonah was looking for the bathroom.” I wouldn’t share why. I liked how he’d entrusted me with the reason. “He saw Boyd slap me.”
Her disgusted snort turned heads, but we ignored everyone. The trick in a small town was to act like we had nothing to hide. “We should’ve gutted him.”
“Jonah pinned Boyd against the wall with his cane.” The image would forever be imprinted in my mind.
“He should have bitch-slapped that cocksucker with his cane.” She shook her head, the green in her eyes sparking.
A couple glanced our way, and Autumn shot them a syrupy smile as an apology for swearing. I returned their stare with a militant glare that said mind your own business and you won’t hear her swear.
She nudged my shin under the table. Fair. She had to live here while I could leave, which I’d do as soon as my “honeymoon” was done.
She pushed an errant curl behind her ear. “What’d you do at his place?”
“Slept. Watched TV.” Talked. That part was my favorite. “He worked. Did you know he builds furniture?”
She cocked her head. “You didn’t?”
Why did everyone act like his job was something I should know? “He said he gets old barrels from Copper Summit and I hoped he and Teller were talking again.”
Sadness entered her eyes. “They aren’t close like before.” She took a long drink of her soda. “I think Teller worries about him when he’s not seen in town for a while. I hear him grilling the delivery drivers. Jonah changed after the accident and he’s never reverted back, but who can blame him.”
“Jonah blames himself for Eli.” He shouldn’t. The burden rested fully on my shoulders. Only I knew why Eli had gone to Jonah’s place that day and drunk too much.
Our food arrived and Autumn moved on from all things Jonah. She told me about her third graders’ antics, how she felt so much older than some of the new teachers ten years younger than her, and if it weren’t for Scarlett, she might’ve quit. I loved our incredibly normal conversation.
When it was time to go, Autumn scooted out of the booth. “I’m running to the restroom before I load up on muffins.”
“I’ll buy mine while waiting.”
The same server who’d helped us met me at the bakery counter. I ordered two strawberry cream cheese and two pumpkin cream cheese. Mama would have at least one. Oh wait, Myles’s brothers, Lane and Cruz, would be around too.
