Unforgettable (The Dalton Gang #3) (6 page)

“Yeah, I think there’s a story there, but it’s not one Faith’s shared,” Casper said, using the barrel of the gun to count the boxes of staples left on the shelf.

Boone had been thinking the same thing since Everly had told him. Moving from a major network in Austin to the
Crow Hill Reporter
didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Either Everly had wanted out of Austin, or had wanted in to Crow Hill, and Boone couldn’t see but one of those situations being the case.

“Why the interest in Everly?” Casper asked. “Especially since you know everything we do.”

“No reason,” Boone said, and shrugged. “She said she was covering the fund-raiser for the
Reporter.
Just made me curious and all.”

At that, Dax coughed a mumbled
bullshit
into his hand.

“What was that?”

“Maybe you’re curious because she had to bring you back to the saloon to pick up your truck this morning.”

Shit. “Who told you that?”

“I live with Arwen, dude. Her cottage is right there on the same block.”

Boone shoved his hat back on his head. “You were already saddled up when I got here. You couldn’t have seen who might’ve brought me back for my truck.”

“I didn’t,” Dax said, leading Flash into his stall. “But I did see her load your drunk ass into her SUV last night. And since your truck was still there when I was pouring my coffee . . .”

Busted. “I don’t even remember that happening. I woke up and smelled pancakes and coffee, and had no clue whose bed I was in. Alone,” he hurried to add before the other two started in. “I slept there. She slept on the couch. She went to work. I came here.” So what if he left out all the stuff in between involving clean sheets and silk scarves?

“You thinking of hitting that?”

He glared at Dax. “If I was thinking of doing anything, I wouldn’t call it ‘hitting.’ And I damn sure wouldn’t tell you.”

“I had to put up with you giving me hell about Arwen. I figure turnabout is fair play.”

Turnabout
and
fair play.
The same words that had gone through Boone’s mind this morning while watching Everly strip. “I never gave you hell about Arwen.”

“You gave me hell about Faith.”

“Faith’s my sister,” Boone said to Casper. “And you were the worst possible match I could see her making.”

“That
could
better be past tense, bro,” Casper said, clicking the fencing gun’s trigger. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to staple your balls to your thigh.”

Boone felt his balls drawing tight at the sound. “Yeah, well, you keep doing reckless shit like putting your hand through truck windows, I might change my mind. We’re already short on money, short on supplies, short on time to do what needs to get done. And now we’re short half a man. Faith may be willing to put up with you being stupid, but I’m not. Don’t let it happen again.”

Casper straightened. “Are you threatening me?”

“It is what it is,” Boone said, his ire rising. “The two of you are showing up later and later each morning, and half the time there’s still a shitload of work to be done when you call it a day.”

“I’m thinking what’s wrong here, more than me and Casper getting laid regularly,” Dax said, “is that you’re not.”

“Fuck that. And fuck you. This isn’t about who’s getting laid. It’s about who’s putting in more time on the ranch. Who’s shouldering more of the workload. Who cares the most whether or not we save Tess and Dave’s ranch.”

“Uh-uh. Don’t even start in with that shit,” Dax said, latching the stall door before heading for the tack room. “You’re not the only one who cares about saving what Tess and Dave left us.”

“Well it’s sure feeling like it these days. Like you’ve both found the life you want with your ladies, and the ranch is taking a backseat.”

“Family always comes first, Boone,” Casper said, finally putting the fencing gun where it belonged, and Boone breathing easier because of it. “You being the only one here to grow up in a functioning family should know that.”

And maybe that was it. He was still thinking of his boys as family, and they’d both moved on. Dax was making his own life with Arwen, and Casper was doing the same with Faith and with Clay. All of that left Boone the one with extra time and nothing to do. Why that was suddenly giving him hell when he’d been fine being on his own up till now . . .

“I’m gonna head to the house, scrounge up lunch. Should be done in about fifteen,” he said, slapping his gloves against his thigh before shoving them in his back pocket.

“Boone, wait,” Dax called from behind him, but he was in no frame of mind to spill more of his guts. All he’d wanted was to see what the other two might know about Everly. Not find out he wasn’t imagining the winds of change blowing over the ranch and the life he’d returned to.

Whether the Dalton Gang survived the storm remained to be seen.

SIX

“T
HE FUND-RAISER WAS
amazing,” Faith said, sliding into the chair at the corner table she shared weekly with Everly and Arwen for lunch. “I’m so glad Ken-dall convinced the rest of the library’s board members to hold it here.”

“It was an Old West masquerade ball.” Arwen reached for her tea glass and sipped, giving Faith a shrug. “The saloon made the most sense. Though Kendall getting the board to vote on the theme before booking the venue helped.”

“It also made sense because the country club would’ve cost more, leaving less for the library.” Faith signaled their server for her usual French fries and Coke. “I would’ve
loved
to have used the Mulberry Street house, but it’s such a pain, hauling food and drinks across town, and Casper grumbling the entire time about his personal space being invaded.”

“It’s called catering, Faith. We hauled the food and drinks for your parents’ anniversary party. We could’ve done it again. But, yeah. It was easier this way,” Arwen said, picking a cucumber slice from her salad and biting it in half. “Oh, did I tell you . . .”

Holding a wedge of her club sandwich in both hands as she chewed on the bite she’d taken, Everly let the rest of what the other women were saying slide in one ear and out the other. She wasn’t really hungry, but it was either keep her mouth full of food or risk blurting out something about her morning with Boone.

She wanted to tell them everything. She’d loved watching Faith fall for Casper and Arwen for Dax. But Boone was Faith’s brother, and she could hardly talk about his body, or his hands, or how he kissed, when the other woman had known him since she was in diapers.

And besides. Everly wasn’t falling for Boone. They’d had sex. She’d like to have it again, but who knew if that would happen.

So, yeah. Her thinking lunch with the girls would get her mind off her morning hadn’t turned out like she’d hoped, because no matter the talk of the library and the house on Mulberry Street and last night’s fund-raiser, her mind was on the scarves she’d never again be able to wear as accessories.

“Everly?”

“Hmm?” She looked up at her table mates. Both women were staring as if she’d been talking with her mouth full. Which she hoped wasn’t the case, considering her thoughts of the last few minutes.

“You’ve been staring off into space since I got here,” Faith said.

“I had a busy morning,” she said, sitting straight as she returned her sandwich half to her plate. She needed to tell them. Their men were involved. And talking about it would at least keep her from blurting out the truth about what she’d done with Boone. “Whitey gave me a new assignment earlier. A human interest story.”

“Yeah?” Faith asked, stirring her straw through her ice. “Someone in Crow Hill that interesting?”

“Three someones, actually.”
And . . . here we go
. “He wants me to do a profile on the Dalton Gang.”

“What?” That question, loud enough to turn heads, came from Faith.

“Why?” And that one, less loud than it was sharp, came from Arwen.

Everly picked up her sandwich again. “He said their return has been the talk of the town for months, so it’s time to give readers something more than speculation.” Whitey hadn’t said any of that, of course. But she wasn’t about to tell her two friends her boss wanted her to dig for dirt on the three men. All who were friends of her friends, if not more.

“What sort of slant are you giving the story?” Arwen asked, going where Everly had feared.

She shook her head. “I haven’t decided. I mean, I just got the assignment. But I do think Crow Hill needs to see the men as they are now, and stop expecting the sort of trouble they caused as boys.”

Faith’s order of French fries arrived then, and she reached across the table for the ketchup, saying, “I’m not sure I like this idea,” as she squirted a pool on her plate.

“It’s for the
Reporter
, Faith. Not the
National Enquirer
. And it’s me doing the story. I think you know me. Both of you,” she added, turning to Arwen.

“I do,” Faith said. “But there’s a lot you don’t know about Casper. I’m sure it’s the same for Dax.”

Arwen nodded. “I’m with Faith on this. The past needs to stay in the past.”

Everly wanted to stab herself with her knife for saying yes to Whitey in the first place. Except this was her livelihood, and these women her friends. They should know better than to suspect whatever it was they were suspecting. “C’mon, y’all. I’m not going to do a hatchet job here. I’m a damn good writer, if I do say so myself. I know there are two sides to every story.”

“I think that’s part of the problem,” Arwen said, poking at her salad with her fork.

Faith concurred with a nod as she jabbed a French fry. “You’ve got to know there are a lot of folks out there just waiting to drag the boys through all their old crap, and leave them there to wallow.”

“Which is why I’m the best person to write the story. I’m not digging for dirt. I’m only looking for the truth.”

“Some of their truth
is
dirt,” Faith said.

Arwen nodded down at her salad. “She’s right.”

But before Everly could respond, Faith went on. “So if you run across it, because that’s going to happen, Ev, and you know it will, are you going to print it? The dirt?”

Everly took a moment to chew a bite of sandwich and find an answer they all three could live with, but especially Faith. An answer that wouldn’t feel like a betrayal of the friendship that had saved Everly’s life. “If it’s something of interest, yes, but only if I have the full story.”

“Even full stories can end up making the boys look bad.”

Frustration began to knot in her midsection. She wanted her friends’ support. She wanted their involvement, their input. She didn’t want what was her job to come between them. “Do y’all not have things in your past you wish weren’t there?”

“Of course, but our pasts aren’t going to print under the guise of human interest,” Faith said.

“Details from mine did,” Everly replied, which Faith knew well. “Without all the facts and beneath a much bigger microscope than the
Reporter
.”

“And look what happened. The speculation about those things drove you out of Austin.”

“The events drove me out. Not the speculation.” Though the questioning looks and hushed whispers from friends and coworkers hadn’t helped. Neither had the private asides from family members who felt it their duty to remind her they’d never understood what she saw in Toby and had disapproved of him from day one.

“Wait a second,” Arwen said, holding up one hand. “Events in Austin? Is this something you’d like to share? Because if not, that’s fine, but know I’m lost here.”

Everly had never spoken of what had brought her to Crow Hill to anyone besides Faith. But since she was asking them to understand her putting their men in an unwanted spotlight, and Arwen was a friend and deserved to know . . .

Looking from one woman to the other, she took a deep breath and said, “My ex was abusive. Most of it was emotional, but it was still abuse. It wasn’t until our relationship was ending that it turned physical.”

Arwen’s eyes had gone wide, but before she could speak, Faith added, “And because Everly was on network TV in Austin, her face was easily recognized when she went to the ER to be stitched up.”

“Oh, God, sweetie.” Arwen reached across the table, squeezed Everly’s wrist. “I had no idea. Did he hurt you badly?”

Her stomach churning, Everly tried to shrug off the question.

But Faith let her off the hook and answered for her. “Badly enough that she left Austin and came here.”

“I’ve always wondered why anyone would choose to live in Crow Hill, but this . . .” Arwen squeezed again before letting go. “I never imagined. I’m so, so sorry.”

Trusting her voice not to break, Everly picked a strip of bacon from her sandwich and pressed forward. “I knew what he was doing, long before he struck out. And I knew not to let him get to me. But telling myself I wouldn’t fall for his begging and crying, didn’t work. I went back.”

“Even after he hit you?” Arwen asked.

“No. Well, yes. But only once,” she said as she tore the bacon into ribbons. “The first time he used his belt. I stepped toward him as he swung it.”

Arwen looked to Faith, then back and said, “And you blamed yourself for getting in the way.”

Everly nodded. “Just that time. The next he used his fist.”

“Did you call the cops?”

“She did. And she called me,” Faith said. “I helped her pack up and move. Though I wouldn’t exactly call what we did that day
packing
.”

The bacon was in a pile now, so Everly started in on the bread, pinching off pieces of toasted crust. “I had several friends on the APD. Two of them came by while Faith and I grabbed what I needed. I didn’t take anything of Toby’s. Or anything we’d bought as a couple. And thank goodness we’d kept our money separate. Wardrobe, makeup, jewelry, toiletries, electronics . . . That was it. I replaced everything else. Well, almost everything else,” she added wryly. “My house doesn’t have room for a piano.”

Faith turned to Arwen. “You should’ve seen the baby grand she left.”

“I had no idea you played.”

“I haven’t for a while,” she said, feeling a hint of a smile at the thought of shopping for a small upright, then cleaning her hands on her napkin. “Anyway. That’s my story. And it’s the best ‘been there done that’ case I can make for telling that of the Dalton Gang. Unlike some news outlets, I actually know the meaning of being fair and balanced.”

Her companions quietly let that settle, Arwen finally saying, “There’s a piano at the ranch house, you know. It belonged to Tess. I’m not even sure she played. Or how long it’s been sitting there.”

Oh, good. They were moving on. “No. I didn’t know,” she said, picking up the half of her sandwich she hadn’t mangled. “But now I’m itching to get my hands on it.”

At that, a sly grin pulled at Arwen’s mouth. “The way you and Boone were looking at each other while dancing last night, I thought maybe you’d be itching to get your hands on him.”

Everly looked quickly to Faith, who was frowning, then down at the mess on her plate. If only Arwen knew . . . “I haven’t been with anyone since Austin. I’ve dated, but I’ve always come home alone. Last night though . . .”

“Did you?” Arwen asked. “Come home alone? Or did Boone come with?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw him leave with Luck Summerlin,” Faith said, still frowning, leaving Everly to wonder if his sister had a problem with her seeing Boone, or Boone seeing her, or both.

Arwen shook her head. “Luck came scurrying back inside a few minutes later.”

“I ran across the two of them in the parking lot,” Everly said. “Right about the time all her moaned
yes
es became squealed
no
s.”

“Ah, yes. That would be our Luck, so to speak.”

Everly grinned. “Boone saw me getting into my car and came over. He was pretty drunk. So I drove him home.”

“To the ranch?” Faith asked. “Or to your home?”

“Mine,” she said, still unable to get a read on the other woman. “He spent the night in my bed. I slept on the couch. And I washed his clothes and made him breakfast before he ever woke up.”

“Then he left?”

Everly nodded, then lied. “I drove him here to get his truck, and I went to work. I’m assuming he went to the ranch.”

“Does he know about the story? For the paper,” Faith said, waving her hand. “Not Austin. And thank you for not letting him behind the wheel.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, the ice she had yet to understand beginning to thaw. “And, no. You two are the only ones I’ve told about the story. I didn’t get the assignment until an hour ago.”

“But you’re going to talk to Boone.”

“It would only be two-thirds of a story if I didn’t,” she said, looking from Boone’s sister to Arwen who asked, “Who else are you going to talk to?”

“Like I said. Families. Friends.”

“Enemies?”

“I’ll talk to whoever I need to. I want as much information as I can get.”

“Okay then. I’ll make you a list.”

“Of Dax’s enemies?”

“Of people I think you should start with. And you can take what they give you and go from there.”

She didn’t need a list. She knew how to dig for source material, where to look for buried secrets, how to unearth the past. But she also knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you. I appreciate it. And if you want, I can start by talking to you.”

Arwen stuck out her tongue. “I was afraid of that.”

When she turned to Faith, she got a roll of the other woman’s eyes for her trouble. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll pencil you in. And make sure Casper does, too.”

“Excellent,” she said, rubbing her hands together with an abundance of glee, the first she’d felt since Whitey had dropped the story into her lap. “I love it when a plan comes together.”