Chapter Fourteen Gifted

Mike reached to Darrin’s will that was sitting at the side of his desk.

He had half an hour before he had to meet Audrey at Mimi’s. He’d also received a call from Tanner five minutes ago asking where he was then informing him that Tanner’s wife, Rocky would be swinging by because she needed to chat.

He didn’t know what that was about but he did know that Tanner’s wife, Merry’s sister Raquel Merrick Layne was a bit of a nut so it could be about anything. A teacher at the school, a cop’s daughter and sister, an ex-cop/current private investigator’s wife, Rocky Layne tended to stick her nose in shit.

It turned out to be good she did. Though he could say that removed since she wasn’t in his bed. She’d stuck her nose in the situation The ‘Burg had with a dirty cop in the Department and an adolescent sex ring recruiting through the local church. Mike couldn’t say she assisted much in that situation but her getting into that business lit some fires under a few asses in order to keep her safe. This meant shit happened faster than it would have, something that ended up saving three young girls from a lifetime of pain.

As he waited for Rocky and his eyes skimmed the will, his thoughts moved over the last two days.

Mike had had his Sunday with his woman and his Sunday night with his woman, his kids, his girl’s new boyfriend and a DQ ice cream cake. Aside from Audrey’s visit, it was a fucking good day. His best in a while.

Before that, wasteland for nearly eighteen years.

So it was safe to say Sunday being a fucking good day was something Mike Haines savored.

Mike was settling into Fin being around. He was doing this because he liked the way Fin was with his girl. And the way Fin was, gentle, watchful, intent, Mike sensed was not for Mike’s benefit. Perhaps this game was how Fin got his hands in a number of high school girls’ pants and Mike could see that play working and working well. But as much as he wanted to guard his girl against that kind of game, his gut told him there was something genuine about it.

What Mike knew well was that Fin was a Holliday. Darrin played the field and got himself some but the minute he locked on Rhonda that shit died. Completely. Darrin had found Rhonda after he graduated from high school but Mike now saw the same coming from Fin.

This was a new concern. His daughter was fifteen. She didn’t need some kid fixing on her. And although he didn’t want years of dealing with a revolving door of boyfriends who could be losers or assholes, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely comfortable with Reesee fixing on Fin either.

But even so, Mike couldn’t say some part of him didn’t like it.

Monday night went as expected. Dusty’s Dad, Dean Holliday was beyond pissed at Debbie and regardless of the veil of grief that still hung at the Holliday farm, he didn’t mind showing it.

This was because his anger was mixed with alarm. Dean Holliday knew his firstborn daughter and undoubtedly knew she could be both stubborn and resentful. Not a good combination. Dean had also found time to share with Dusty and Mike that he’d called Debbie repeatedly since being let in on the situation and she was not backing down.

Further, Dean knew Bernie McGrath and Mike providing the information McGrath was involved did not help Mr. Holliday’s mood. Taking Mike aside, Dean had shared that Darrin had informed him that McGrath had made five approaches since his Dad left the state.

This didn’t surprise Mike. The development on the opposite side of the farm to Mike’s was one of McGrath’s. It was pricey and extensive. It was also relatively new, having gone in five years before. With the housing estates in the area surrounding the Holliday farm, a shopping area would thrive. Grocery store, video store, pizza place, shit like that would do lucrative business just from the local residents who would no longer have to drive ten, fifteen minutes into town and fight traffic in The ‘Burg during times of congestion. Also the Holliday farm was bigger than any shopping center needed for a build so there was plenty of leftover space to put in another development that would mean more customers for the center.

McGrath would be all over that. Mike knew it and Dean knew it too.

Before they had their private chat, both Mike and Dean gave Fin, Kirb and Rhonda their warnings. At this time in their lives, neither man wanted to alarm them but the point had to be made.

Twenty-four hours later, Mike still wondered if what they said penetrated Rhonda. Even though he knew Dusty had been working with her, she seemed even more withdrawn. Fin and Kirby listened, Kirby taking his cues from his brother. With the intense look in Fin’s eyes, Mike knew Fin had fully absorbed this information, didn’t like it much but intended to be on guard not only for himself but for his family. Fin also eyed his mother on several occasions, his mouth tight, his impatience not hidden.

Another reason Mike knew Fin wanted more from his daughter was, during these times, Fin’s eyes would drift to Reesee and his face would relax. Reesee had become his touchstone during a shit time in his life. Whatever Finley Holliday saw in Clarisse Haines, it eased him.

And Mike couldn’t say he didn’t like that, not only his daughter’s capacity to give it but a grieving kid’s access to it.

Things had changed yesterday at the farm for Dusty. With her Mom and Dad in town, Kirby had been moved into Fin’s room and Dusty into Kirby’s room.

She’d also asked Mike if they could meet at Frank’s for lunch rather than her making sandwiches and bringing them over for him to eat in his car on the way back to work after he spent his lunch hour with her in his bed. This was, he would find, because she’d located Darrin’s will and she wanted to hand it over to him. It was also because she wanted to put her finger on his pulse about how he felt about the impending meeting with Audrey. His woman knew if she hit his backdoor, their time would be spent not talking about important shit but doing important shit.

Truth be told, he wanted her in his bed. But he’d never in his life had a woman who looked out for him. And honest to God, suddenly having it, he didn’t know what to do with it. Vi, he knew if their relationship had progressed, would be like that and he knew it by the way Cal had slid out of avoiding life into living it, this guided by Vi’s hand. And he understood, having Dusty’s attention, concern and care, that was what he’d been looking for in Violet, what he’d been looking for all his life. And never finding.

Having it was another story.

Mike was used to shouldering the burden. It felt strange sharing it.

Although strange, he could not say that strange was not good.

He figured it wouldn’t take long to get used to it.

He was skimming the will, looking for mentions of the land, thinking about all this shit when he heard, “Mike?”

His eyes lifted and he saw Rocky moving across the bullpen toward his desk, her high, thin heels clicking on the floor. Mike knew Raquel well. She came to the Station often, close to her brother, close to all the cops being part of the family for two generations.

Still, as often as he saw her, like Vi, February and, now, Dusty, he never got used to her beauty.

She dressed well in an unintentional, sex-kitten, school marm way. Tight skirts, high heels, perfect makeup. Mike figured every boy in school had a crush on her, every girl wanted to be her when she grew up.

“Hey Rocky,” Mike greeted, dropping the will and jerking his head to the chair beside his desk. “Have a seat.”

She smiled and sat, dumping her purse in her lap. This action stretched her skirt across her hips, her thighs and then she crossed her legs. She had deep history with Tanner that eclipsed their recent reconciliation and marriage. They’d been together years before, it went bad and they both went their separate ways. Seeing her sitting there, her long, shapely legs crossed, her demeanor one that indicated she had no idea her affect on a man, not for the first time Mike understood why Tanner worked flat out, once she found herself free from her cheating husband, planting his ring on her finger.

“Everything good?” she asked, head tilted slightly to the side, eyes unwavering on him.

“Some of it phenomenal, some of it shit.”

Her lips tipped up and she murmured a soft, “Life.”

“Yeah.”

She took in a breath and said, “I need to talk to you about Rees.”

Mike felt his shoulders get tight.

This was a surprise. He’d figured her visit was about Merry and how her brother was fucking it up, not pulling his finger out and sorting shit with his ex-wife Mia, a woman he still loved, a woman he still wanted and a woman he was fucking around with getting back. If it wasn’t Merry, he figured it was something else, something to do with his job or how he could help her with a kid at school going off the rails.

Rees, absolutely not.

He knew Rees was in Rocky’s class. He also knew Rees was getting straight A’s in that class. So a discussion seemed unnecessary.

Unless it was yet something else he didn’t know about his daughter.

“She okay?” Mike asked.

Rocky nodded then leaned forward but did it with head bent, pulling open the bag on her lap. “The usual thing to do would be wait for a parent teacher conference but I didn’t want this to wait.”

She pulled out a folded lengthwise, thin sheaf of papers and set it on Mike’s desk.

“That’s an assignment,” she declared as the paper flipped open and Mike saw a large, red, circled “A+” at the top.

Seeing the grade, puzzled, his eyes went from the paper to Rocky.

When he caught her gaze, she shared, “I’m delaying returning these reports back to the kids for you to have some time to read that. If you could get it to Layne tomorrow, I’d appreciate it.”

“Clue me in, Rocky,” he invited.

“It’s exceptional, Mike,” she whispered and Mike’s gaze on her grew intense as his chest started to warm.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“It’s exceptional,” she repeated. “And when I say that, in all my years of teaching I have never, not once, seen anything the caliber of your daughter’s work. To say she’s advanced would be an understatement. We’re not talking a freshman doing junior or senior class work. We’re not even talking a freshman in high school is doing college-level work. I’m telling you that her report on Flowers for Algernon could be published.”

Mike blinked and he did it slow.

Rocky kept going. “This isn’t the first time I felt that with one of Rees’s assignments. At first, I hate to admit, I thought she was plagiarizing. This is because I’ve never seen anything like it turned in, not once, not in my career. But I checked it and she isn’t. Then I thought it was a one-time deal. But considering that assignment,” she tipped her head to the paper, “is her fourth exhibiting that level of talent, it’s not a fluke. She’s gifted and when I say that, she was already a maestro at fourteen but with each assignment, the quality becomes richer. And I wish I could say this was because of my excellent teaching skills,” she said on a grin, “but it’s not. For Rees, it’s coming naturally.”

Mike said nothing as he processed this information, the warmth in his chest intensifying and expanding.

Rocky filled the silence.

“It isn’t just her writing that’s exceptional, which it is, Mike. I fall into her reports. She has a unique style that’s remarkable. It isn’t like she’s doing an assignment, answering a question. She’s building worlds around the books she’s reporting on. They move her and she has absolutely no difficulty expressing how they do. But it’s more. She absorbs meanings and subtexts from the novels they’re assigned to read with a maturity that’s astounding. She sees things I don’t see, feels them and then is able to express them in extraordinary ways.”

Rocky’s words washed over him and Mike’s eyes dropped to the paper as he lifted a hand and touched his fingers to his daughter’s work like he’d skim them over the finest piece of crystal.

Rocky kept speaking. “I know on a cop’s salary it wouldn’t be easy considering, uh…your ex-wife probably isn’t in the position to help but with that caliber of work, Mike, Rees Haines has no business at Brownsburg High School.”

Mike’s eyes shot to her and she kept talking.

“She’s that gifted. She needs to be in a school for gifted children. At the very least, she needs to go to writing camps where she can be encouraged to explore her talent, expand it. I’ve spoken to her other teachers and although she struggles with math and science, any course closely connected with the arts, she excels. It’s quiet, not showy and her other teachers and I don’t think she understands her gift, even knows she has it. In fact, we all feel that she’s phoning it in which would mean that if she actually were to make a concerted effort, exemplary work would become something else entirely and all of it good. Her gift needs to be recognized and fed, Mike. And if you like, we can set a meeting where you, she and I can talk about this and I’ll be happy to research schools and possible scholarships. But I encourage you to find a way to help your daughter recognize her talent and further find ways she can be guided to explore it.”

“We’ll set the meeting,” Mike replied immediately. “And I’d appreciate it if you came to it with suggestions of schools which would be a good fit for Reesee.”

Rocky’s face softened and her lips tipped up. “Excellent,” she whispered then she held his eyes and asked quietly, “You had no idea, did you?”

Mike shook his head. “She asks for help on homework but usually geometry, biology. Not English Lit.”

Rocky nodded but her head tilted to the side and she went on, “And Rees? Does she understand her gift do you think?”

Mike shook his head again. “She has no clue.”

Rocky smiled flat out at that and whispered, “Then this meeting will be fun.”

Mike thought of his daughter, how, until recently with Dusty and Fin in her life, she seemed to be losing her way. He also thought of Dusty’s words on Sunday.

Then he thought, yes, it fucking would.

Mike smiled back.

Rocky reached out a hand and touched the report. “You read that. Layne said he’d drop it by the school if you’d swing by his office tomorrow and give it to him. Does that work for you?”

“Absolutely,” Mike replied.

Rocky smiled again and stood, throwing the straps of her bag over her shoulder.

Mike stood with her.

“Good news is,” she started, her eyes shining, “it wouldn’t be good to pull Rees now and move her to a new school so I get to have that one, beautiful, shining moment in a teacher’s life to recognize and educate a prodigy as I get her all semester.”

Mike studied her seeing, clearly, she got off on this shit. She loved her job but more, she truly was elated to have the chance to work with his daughter.

That warmth in his chest grew intense.

Mike grinned at her. “Thanks for takin’ the time to share this with me, Rocky.”

She leaned in, eyes warm, holding his and said with feeling, “My pleasure, Mike.”

He lifted his hand, she took it and he pulled her slightly to him. She tipped her chin back and he bent in, brushing his lips against her cheek. Her skin was soft, her hair and perfume smelled good and Mike liked that Tanner had that. Tanner was a good man. And Tanner’s ex made Audrey seem tame. A slightly nutty, easy smiling woman who smelled good, dressed good, looked great and loved her job teaching kids was so far better than the shit Tanner’s ex shoveled not only during their marriage but after it, it wasn’t funny.

They both leaned back, squeezed hands, Rocky promised to be in touch about the meeting and they said their farewells.

By the time she left, Mike had fifteen minutes to get to Mimi’s. It was a couple of blocks, a five minute walk. He had time and the time he had he didn’t use to pick up Darrin’s will.

He picked up Reesee’s report.

He read it and Rocky was right. By paragraph two, it wasn’t about him reading his daughter’s report that was deemed exceptional by her teacher. She’d sucked him in, he’d become lost in it and even after he was done, it didn’t strike him what he was doing and why he was reading it. Just that he found every word interesting and really fucking wanted to reread a book he hadn’t read since high school.

Unfortunately, he was so into it, by the time he was done he was supposed to be at Mimi’s and being late would piss off Audrey. He knew this because his job meant his hours could be erratic and her spending meant his overtime was constant. Still, she expected him when she expected him where she expected him and if he was late or a no-show, she didn’t mind sharing how much that pissed her off. And how much it pissed her off was a lot.

He didn’t need a pissed off Audrey considering he already didn’t want to give her this time or play whatever game she intended to play. She was his kids’ Mom, however, so he had no fucking choice.

He sucked in breath, folded Rees’s report in half, the will in half, shoved both in the inside pocket of his blazer and shrugged it on. Then he took off down the steps to the first floor of the Station. Moving by Betsy at reception, he flicked out two fingers, called goodnight and got the same in return.

Then he pushed through the front door and walked down the sidewalk to Mimi’s.

It was the beginning of March. Spring was there. The temperatures were rising; there was no snow to be found. Yards were greening up. Buds were on the trees. Bulbs were sending up shoots in people’s yards.

Mike lived in Indiana all his life so he was used to adjusting his day to the changeable and sometimes extreme weather patterns. It was second nature. He didn’t notice it. He didn’t savor spring heralding the end of winter. He didn’t give a shit. He was just pleased the warm up meant he could barbeque without freezing his ass off. And he was pleased that the change in the weather indicated that Fin would not have to go out and clear any more streets.

That was all the thought he gave to it.

He pushed open the door to Mimi’s already having spotted Audrey seeing she’d chosen a table in the window.

Seeing it, his mouth got tight.

Calculated. The ‘Burg was a small town and she’d lived in it a long while. Anyone driving or walking past would see him having a coffee with her. They’d wonder. They’d talk. They’d speculate. They’d even make shit up. And everyone by this time knew he was with Dusty. This was courtesy of Sully’s wife, Lorraine not to mention the quintuple threat of Cheryl, Jessie, Mimi, February and Violet, two of those working in the town’s most popular bar, one of them owning the frequented coffee house.

Jesus, Audrey and her games.

He saw she had a mug in front of her, another mug was on the table and a white bag was also sitting on the table.

He didn’t know what was in that bag but he was surprised by its presence. If she didn’t keep a handle on it, Audrey was the kind of woman who would pack on weight easily. And honest to God, sometimes he thought she’d rather slit her wrists than gain an extra pound. She stepped on the scale every morning and every morning he’d brace. This was because the results set the mood in their house until the next day when she again stepped on that fucking scale.

She, luckily, didn’t give a shit about what Mike and the kids ate though she would frequently bitch about the food in the house mostly because it tempted her. But she took great care with every morsel that passed her lips. She also speed-walked three times a week and went to the gym to swim twice. She was as obsessive about these things as shopping. So baked goods from Mimi’s didn’t make sense.

Her apparently having bought him a drink didn’t either. She’d never been particularly polite but after he asked for a divorce that evaporated completely. Any time she spoke to him over the phone or saw him in person, the acid spewed.

He did not like that mug of coffee sitting on the table. Not at all.

As he moved to Audrey, his eyes went to the counter to see if Mimi was there. She wasn’t and the lone girl behind it was with a customer so she didn’t glance at him.

He expected a terse, “You’re late,” when he arrived but Audrey just smiled up at him.

Then she said, “I got you a latte. Butterscotch?”

He stared at her, shocked as shit. Butterscotch lattes were what Reesee would order him if he brought her or both his kids here. He had no clue Audrey knew or even cared that was his preference.

“Yeah,” he grunted as he sat down then forced out a, “Thanks.”

She immediately reached a hand to the bag and slid it his way. “Those are brownies and cookies. For you, No and Rees.”

He kept staring at her.

She’d called No “No”.

Fuck.

And brownies and cookies?

Fuck.

Except for birthdays and Christmases, which she spent a fortune on with a glee that had nothing to do with celebrations and holidays, he didn’t know her ever to make a gesture to him or the kids like that. When they had children, her shopping extended naturally to filling the kids’ closets, dressers and rooms with shit they did not need but it wasn’t kindness or generosity. It was addiction.

“Thanks,” he muttered again and noted she’d told him they were for him, No and Rees but not Dusty. Understandable but also an indication that she was not moving on as she knew he already had.

He tagged his mug, took a sip then set it down.

“You wanna start this?” he invited. “No’s been instructed to order pizza in fifteen minutes and I gotta swing by and pick it up on the way home. I’m sorry I’m late but that means we have even less time. We should get this done.”

She nodded then shared conversationally, “Things are going well at work.”

Jesus. What the fuck? Was this just a chat?

He didn’t have time for this shit.

“That’s good. Pleased for you, Audrey. Now, do we have something to discuss?”

She rubbed her lips together and grabbed her mug to take a drink.

Stalling. Sucking his time. Playing games.

“Audrey…” he warned and her eyes shot to him.

“I don’t like you with another woman.”

Mike sighed and sat back.

Then, quietly, seeking patience, he explained, “We’re divorced. We’ve been that way a while. We’re gonna stay that way. I’m gettin’ that you’re strugglin’ with that now for whatever reason but it’s the way it is. You need to learn how to deal and however you do that is yours. I’m not involved. If this is about me and Dusty, that has not one thing to do with you. We talk, we talk about our kids. That’s it. Anything else in my life, for you, is off-limits.”

“That isn’t true,” she returned, speaking quietly as well. “She’s in your home. Our kids live in your home –”

Mike instantly leaned forward, his eyes locked to hers and he growled, “Do not fuckin’ go there.”

“I should understand who’s involved in our children’s lives, Mike,” she stated and he studied her, with effort forcing down his rising anger.

She wasn’t pissed. She wasn’t catty. She wasn’t sharp. She seemed calm and rational.

He didn’t get it.

“You met her at Reesee’s party,” he reminded her.

“Yes, we spoke for about a second. But where does she come from? What does she do? What –?”

He cut her off. “None of that is any of your business.”

“No and Rees are at an impressionable age so I disagree.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” Mike asked softly, his efforts at controlling his anger failing rapidly.

“Well…no,” she replied.

“Rees has got her period,” Mike announced and Audrey blinked.

“What?” she asked.

“Rees has got her period,” Mike repeated. “She’s usin’ tampons. You good with that?”

Mike watched her head jerk back then she stammered, “I…uh…”

Mike spoke into her stammering. “I don’t know shit about it. Is it cool for a fifteen year old girl to use tampons?”

Audrey’s brows drew together. “Why are we talking about this?”

Why were they talking about this?

Jesus.

“Because our daughter has become a woman in that sense,” Mike explained tersely and unnecessarily. “I don’t buy her that shit but she’s got it. I don’t know anything about it and there is no fuckin’ way she’s gonna talk to me. No found that shit in the bathroom while he was lookin’ for somethin’ else, God knows what. It was buried, hidden behind a bunch of other shit. I didn’t think much about it until Dusty talked to me. Since Dusty spoke to me, what I think now is that every girl gets her period and every woman lives with that until they don’t have to live with it anymore. And there’s absolutely no reason she should be hiding tampons. Her brother is a teenager and he might rib her because he’s a teenager. But he’ll one day be a man with a woman who has to deal with that shit so he’ll also have to learn to keep his mouth shut and roll with the cycle. I can teach him that. But who’s takin’ care of our daughter?”

Her face was pale when Mike was done speaking and he knew, whoever it was, it was not Audrey.

“Not you,” he whispered. “Shit’s goin’ down with her body and now she’s got a new boyfriend and she’s fuckin’ clueless with nowhere to turn but her friends who also are fuckin’ clueless.”

“I’ll speak with her,” Audrey said immediately.

“Not to be a dick but I’m not sure she’s open to that from you. You’ve been pissed, bitter and self-absorbed a long time, Audrey, so you bought that. Our kids do time with you. They live with me but they do time with you. My advice, you stop worryin’ about who I got in my bed and that finally wakin’ you up to the fact we are irrevocably done and you start worryin’ about your kids. No’s gonna be in college soon, Reesee not long after. You let them get that far without steppin’ up, you’ll find later it’ll be harder to break through. And you’ll also find that you’ve missed out on something precious that there’s no way in hell you’ll get back.”

“Since meeting Dusty, I’ve already found that, Mike,” she whispered, eyes on him, wounded, message crystal clear.

Shit, shit, fuck.

“Not my problem.”

To that, she announced, “I’m still in love with you.”

Shit, shit, fuck.

“Again,” he growled, “not my problem.”

“Mike –” she started and he leaned deep into her.

“Honest to God? Honest to fuckin’ God?” he ground out. “I just told you your daughter got her period, has no clue but does have a new boyfriend and you don’t even ask who she’s seein’? You just wanna talk about you?” He sat back. “Nothin’s changed. Not one fuckin’ thing. You’re learning about yourself? Bullshit. You were, you’d learn you got serious issues, you’re a shit mother and you need to start dancin’ fast before the best things in your life you got left leave you behind.”

Her face looked like he’d struck her and he didn’t give a fuck.

Instead, he clipped, “We done?”

“I don’t…I don’t want this Dusty talking to Rees about –” she started.

“Too late,” Mike cut her off. “Reesee trusts Dusty and so do I. It’s already happening.”

Audrey straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know this woman. I’m not comfortable with her guiding my daughter through important times in her life.”

“Clue in, Audrey, if you’d been the Mom you should have been, your daughter would not have needed to turn to my woman in the first fuckin’ place.”

Again, she looked stricken but Mike again did not give one, single fuck. She’d bought that too and it was not his fucking problem.

“We done?” he repeated.

He watched with waning patience as she pulled her shit together.

Then she said quietly, “I’m sorry. Honestly, Mike, this was not how I intended this talk to go.”

“Well, this is where it went. Now, we done?”

She held his eyes.

Then she nodded.

He stood, leaving the once-sipped latte behind.

“Don’t forget the treats,” she said quickly, grabbing the bag and holding it out to him.

He stared at it a second wishing he was the type of man to walk away. But he wasn’t that type of man. His kids loved the shit Mimi made and their mother bought it for them. So he took the bag only for her not to let it go.

Fuck.

His eyes went to her.

“Really, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Honestly, this was not how I wanted this to go.”

“You get one more thing,” he told her, “and that is to explain what you wanted from this.”

“We need to be…closer…or something. For the kids. We need to improve our relationship. I just got off-track straight off the bat. And…I…well, truly, Mike, I’m sorry.”

She let go of the bag.

Mike didn’t let go of her eyes.

“You want that, first you show me you give a shit about our children. At the same time you lay off about Dusty and I don’t mean just to me. I hear that you’re sayin’ shit to our kids or any-fucking-body about my woman, we got problems. You manage to do all that then we’ll talk about improving our relationship. Until then, Audrey, we’re back to where we were a couple of weeks ago.”

She held his eyes and nodded.

Mike finished with, “Reesee’s English teacher spoke to me. She told me Reesee’s exceptionally gifted. The teacher’s name is Raquel Layne. You give a shit, you might wanna contact her and see what that’s about. I’ll be sitting down with Rocky and Reesee to discuss this and how we’re gonna open up avenues for Reesee to explore it. You want on board with that, as her mother, obviously, you’re welcome. But it is likely going to entail Reesee either going to a private school for gifted students or camps, both of which are gonna cost some cake. You want a part of that you’re welcome but that means you layin’ off the shoes. Considering what I read of Reesee’s work, Rocky’s not blowin’ sunshine so if you wanna give your daughter the attention and future she deserves, I’d suggest starting to lay off the shoes now.”

Her lips were parted in surprise but Mike didn’t give a fuck about that either. He was done.

And he communicated this by muttering, “Drive safe,” then, without delay, he walked away.

* * *

Furious, Mike grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on and prowled down the hall.

No, Rees and Fin were on the sectional watching TV. He’d had pizza with his kids then Rees got a text from Fin and asked if he could come over. Mike had said yes. Fin came, Mike gave him his usual warning with his eyes then he went up to his office to read through Darrin Holliday’s will.

Now he had to get to the farm, talk to Dusty and Dean, get Debbie’s home phone number and ream her fucking ass.

Which meant either kicking Fin out or leaving his daughter with her new boyfriend with only her nearly seventeen year old brother as chaperone.

He wanted to kick Fin out. It was an instinct he had just because he was a Dad.

But as he stalked into his living room, he knew he wasn’t going to do it. And he wasn’t going to do it because he loved his daughter, it was early, just going on eight o’clock and she liked being with her boyfriend. And further Mike wasn’t going to do this because her boyfriend just lost his Dad and Mike knew Fin got something good out of being with his girl. The alternative was being at home in a house hazed with grief and a Mom who was trying his shit with her weakness.

Fuck.

“I’m goin’ to the farm,” he announced, all three kids looked to him, surprise on their faces but Mike only looked to No. “Everyone, including you, stays in this room or the kitchen. Am I clear?”

No’s face got knowing and a teasing light flared in his eyes. Mike was clear. And, likely, Rees and/or Fin were going to catch some of No’s shit.

This was good. No handing out shit would mean they’d have to deal with it, react to it and would have less time to find ways to get into what Mike would consider trouble.

“Yeah, Dad,” No muttered.

Mike cut his gaze through Fin and Rees who were sitting close but not cuddling on the couch.

He had no clue if cuddling would commence once he left considering No was there. He doubted it considering No would jump on that faster than you could blink. He also would likely never know. Which was good.

Without another word, he walked toward the backdoor but was stopped when he heard Fin call, “Mr. Haines?”

He looked back and gave Fin his eyes. Fin’s face was blank but his eyes were intense.

“Everything okay at the farm?” Fin asked and Mike held his eyes.

He was worried, good at hiding it but still concerned.

Jesus, half the time, if Mike didn’t know, he’d think that kid was thirty-five not seventeen.

“Yeah, Fin. All good. Brief you when I get back,” Mike answered.

Fin jerked up his chin.

Totally thirty-five. Jesus.

Mike didn’t know what to do with that either.

He went out the door, down his deck, through the yard and out the back gate. On the short walk through the chill air, he tried to pull his shit together.

Debbie was not only a bitch, the bitch was a bitch.

Mike had been right. Darrin was no fool and his sister hadn’t fooled him. There was a long, detailed codicil in the will that stated that not only could the land not be broken up, but also no decisions could be made on its sale or any alterations made on or to the land until Finley Declan Holliday had reached majority and could participate in these decisions. Further, the inheritance Deborah and Dusty Holliday came into upon their brother’s death was not equal distribution of the land, its structures and its assets. Not even fucking close. It was just enough for them to assist in any decisions Fin, as a young adult, might make and for them to have hands in their family legacy. And it further stated that Fin was entitled to the opportunity to buy them out at any time but Fin or Kirb were the only individuals who had this right. The farm would not leave family hands unless Fin or Kirb owned all the land outright, should they buy out their aunts’ and each other’s portions, and made this decision sometime in their adulthood.

For whatever reason, Darrin had left the majority of the land to Finley. Kirby’s inheritance did not equal the assets Finley had inherited which included the bulk of the property, the house, outbuildings and equipment. Likely in an effort to make what could feel like a blow strike softer, Darrin had left his younger son a sizeable amount of money he’d somehow accrued. If Darrin had lived the years he should have had, this money would have been substantial. Even as it was, it was far from shit. It was a smart ploy and provided Kirby with the opportunity to buy into his legacy and work it with his brother or invest in his own future whereas his brother was, for the most part, given his.

And Kirby’s monetary inheritance was placed in his Aunt Dusty’s hands to manage until he reached the age of eighteen, should he attend college, with the requirement it was used only toward earning a university degree. If Kirby didn’t go to college, he didn’t receive his inheritance until he was twenty-five unless it was to buy into the land his brother would be working.

As Mike suspected, Darrin was not stupid, he knew life was life, anything could happen and he knew the players in his children’s lives should something happen to him. Therefore, like any good parent, he’d put an enormous amount of forethought into making certain his sons’ interests were seen to as fairly as he could.

Why he did not share this with Rhonda, who apparently had no idea, Mike had no clue.

Why Debbie appeared to have flat out lied about the contents of the will, Mike could guess and his guess pissed him right the fuck off.

Therefore, Mike failed spectacularly at pulling his shit together by the time he lifted a hand a rapped his knuckles on the front door of the Holliday home.

The door was open by Della Holliday, Dusty’s Mom.

“Mike!” she exclaimed, smiling her welcome as she immediately stepped aside. “What a lovely surprise.”

Mike had always liked Della. Then again, except for Debbie, and only recently had his enmity increased toward her, he’d always liked all the Hollidays.

“Della,” he muttered, stepping in. She closed the door, turned to him and he didn’t delay. “Need a word with Dean, Dusty and yourself. Once I have that word, you can decide how or if you’ll share what I gotta say with Rhonda.”

A cloud passed over her face, he saw it, he didn’t like it and he placed it squarely on Debbie’s shoulders right where it belonged.

“Mike, son, to what do we owe this honor?” Mike heard from behind him and he turned to see Dean walking out of the living room, a smile on his face.

The good news that Dusty had already shared was that Dean nor Della looked askance on Mike being with their youngest daughter after he’d been with their older one. He and his children had gone to dinner at the Holliday’s home the night before and it had been pleasant. Dusty set the tone being mostly a nut, partly a teasing aunt and lastly a father’s new girlfriend being cool with his kids. She was pleased as hell her parents were there and didn’t hide it which made the atmosphere light and almost gave it a celebratory feel. Things only went to shit after the family talk commenced and the McGrath information was shared.

So the welcome had been extended last night. He had no one to win over. All that was good.

Unfortunately the rest of it was bad.

“Wish I could say I came over for a beer and to chew the fat, Dean,” Mike told him. “But Dusty gave me Darrin’s will today at lunch, I read over it just now and there are some things you need to know.”

Dean’s face went hard, his eyes flashed to his wife then his mouth opened and he boomed, “Dusty! Get down here! Mike’s here!

Gratifyingly quickly, Dusty appeared at the top of the stairs. Just like Dusty, she made this even better because she did it with her face wreathed in smiles.

She’d fallen in without word to Mike’s attempts to add her gradually to his kids’ lives. Being herself, natural, casual, open, funny with his kids and not bitching about the fact that, even in their relationship which for the most part was new, it was good, it was intense and their bond was strengthening fast, she didn’t get him every free minute of his day.

Then again, even as a kid, unlike her sister, she didn’t mind sharing with people she cared about.

“Hey, babe,” she greeted half jumping, half skipping down the steps like a teenager. Her long hair swinging around her shoulders, her limbs loose, her eyes never leaving him, the smile never leaving her face.

“Hey,” Mike returned, smiling back.

“Where’s Rhonda?” Dean asked when she was four steps from the bottom and Dusty’s head turned her Dad’s way.

“Bedroom,” she muttered, hitting the bottom of the steps then directly hitting Mike, tipping her head back, pressing her soft body into his side, hand to his abs, feet rolling up to her toes, inviting his kiss.

He dipped his head while sliding an arm around her and gave it to her.

A brush on the lips and when he lifted his head he saw the disappointment flash through her eyes. He liked it, the reason behind it but he wasn’t going to assuage it.

He was also gradually adding to his kids’ lives displays of affection to his woman. He didn’t want to go too fast and freak them out or turn them off especially considering both of them were growing close, and rapidly, to Dusty. That said, he was never going to open them up to how Mike and Dusty were together when it was just Mike and Dusty. Mostly because it was rude in front of anybody, definitely in front of your kids. In the rare good times they had, he didn’t hesitate cuddling with, touching, kissing or holding Audrey but beyond that, no. However, that was where he was aiming things with his kids and Dusty.

Dusty had no such qualms and it was likely he could have added tongue right in front of her mother and father and she wouldn’t care.

He, however, did.

He grinned at her.

She pressed closer and rolled her eyes.

His grin became a smile.

“Kirb?” her father barked, the one syllable sharp and in the curve of Mike’s arm he felt Dusty’s body jolt with surprise as her head turned to her Dad.

Rolling back down to the soles of her feet but keeping her body pressed close, she answered, “Fin’s room. We were watching TV.”

Dean nodded then ordered, “Living room.”

Without delay, he turned on his sock-covered foot and stomped in.

Della followed.

Dusty pressed even closer.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“I read Darrin’s will,” Mike whispered back.

“Oh shit,” she kept whispering, her gaze scanning his face for clues.

“Damn straight,” Mike replied.

Her eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched. This was her seriously pissed off look, he guessed, seeing as he’d never seen it before.

If that was her pissed off, they were both in trouble. She thought he was hot when he was pissed. He thought she looked adorable.

He guided her into the living room and they made it to find Dean standing and Della perched on the arm of a chair, her fingers on both hands engaged in wringing each other. Mike let Dusty go then he turned and slid the pocket doors closed behind him.

Dusty moved to perch like her mother on the arm of the couch.

Mike moved into the room and crossed his arms on his chest.

Then he gave it to them straight but thorough.

When he was done, Della dropped her head. Her hands now in her lap motionless, she was the image of a mother who was wondering where she went wrong.

Dean, on the other hand, was red-faced and looked like he was about to explode. He was the image of a father who was wishing his daughter was thirty years younger so he could still tan her ass.

Dusty had her head up but it was turned, looking away. Her face in profile was thoughtful but her thoughts were easily readable – pain, confusion, anger mixed with relief.

“Why would she do that?”

This came from Della, it was whispered, injured, baffled.

Dusty, Mike was mildly surprised to see, didn’t jump all over that with catty comments, taking the golden opportunity to sink the blade of their daughter’s betrayal deeper by pointing out this might be a more egregious transgression but the behavior was not uncommon. Something Debbie wouldn’t hesitate to do. Instead, she remained silent and reflective.

“That doesn’t matter,” Dean answered. “What matters is, legally, the farm is safe. That’s what matters.”

He had moved from angry to relieved and he was right. Put it behind, move on.

“I’d like Debbie’s home phone number,” Mike requested. “I think we shouldn’t delay in informing her we understand what we understand and as she has no legal recourse, she’ll need to stand down. This will allow Fin, Kirb and Rhonda to rest easy, at least on this.”

“I’ll phone her,” Dean muttered, moving to the cell sitting on the coffee table and as Mike watched him do it, he debated the merits of allowing it.

However, Debbie would very likely be more responsive to a phone call from her father, who Mike had to assume she loved or at least had some feeling for, than Mike who at this point she’d convinced herself she detested.

As Dean dialed and Mike watched, Dusty left her perch on the couch and came to him. He looked down at her, again sliding an arm around her waist as both her arms circled his middle.

“So, Debbie’s derailed. Wanna go upstairs and celebrate by making out on a teenage boy’s bed?” she whispered.

No, he did not want that. What he wanted was to walk her back to his house, put her ass in his truck and drive her to the watering hole where they could celebrate decisively. But this time in the backseat where he’d have the freedom to flip her after she was done so he could drive in hard to give the same to himself using her silken, tight, wet pussy to find it.

Unfortunately, with her nephew on his couch, this was not an option.

Dean started muttering on the phone while Mike answered, “Sweet as that offer is, Angel, I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Barn?” she suggested softly for only him to hear. “I’ll bring blankets. We can break up a bale of hay.”

“Honey, love you but do not love the idea of gettin’ hard in your family’s living room with your parents in attendance. You wanna cut me some slack?”

Her face got soft with the “love you”, her eyes flashed in that way that made his dick go hard when he mentioned his dick getting hard then the humor slid through it when he finished.

All of this happened in seconds. It was a spectacular show.

“Right, I’ll be good,” she muttered.

“Appreciate it,” he muttered back.

Have you lost your mind!” Dean shouted, Dusty tensed next to him and both their eyes cut to Dean Holliday.

Mike tensed too when he saw the man red-faced again, fist planted on his hip, head bowed to look at his stocking feet.

The room was silent for some time then the silence was ended when Dean spoke.

And his tone hurt Mike to hear and he had never been particularly close to the man, just knew him, respected him and shot the shit with him on a variety of occasions over twenty-five years.

It had to kill Dusty and that was why, as they listened, Mike turned into her and curved his other arm around her tight.

“I do not know you,” Dean whispered, his voice tortured. “I cannot understand why you’ve done what you’ve already done to this family with your mean-spirited deceits, your sister-in-law, your nephews having lost what they’ve lost and why you’re staying that course. I cannot understand it. I don’t want to understand it. You contesting your brother’s will has no possible result but more aggravation and heartache not to mention depleting the reserves Rhonda has to care for her boys as they try to make a go to keep this farm viable. And what’s worse, you’re a goddamned attorney and you know you have no hope of winning and still, you’re doing it. Out of spite. Out of greed. I don’t know which it is but neither of them say one good thing about you. It’s like you’re not of my loins, you’re not my daughter. I don’t know who you are. I just know that right now, Deborah Holliday, I don’t wanna know.”

Then he flipped his phone shut, tossed it on the couch and stared at it as he lifted up a hand to pass it over the back of his neck.

Then he dropped his arm and took in the room.

“She’s contesting the will,” he told them something they already knew. “She’s already got the ball rolling. Her talks with Rhonda were an attempt to get Rhonda on her side.”

Without delay, Della sprang from her perch on the chair, dashed to her husband’s phone, snatched it up, flipped it open and started hitting buttons.

“Della –” Dean started, his face ravaged but she lifted a hand his way, palm up without taking her eyes from the phone.

“Not a word, Dean,” she snapped and put the phone to her ear.

Della Holliday was a good woman, a good mother and a good wife. Further, she was an excellent farmer’s wife. He’d eaten her cooking often when he dated Debbie and enjoyed every meal. There was a reason Dusty was as she was. Della didn’t sing but she often had music on and would sway through the house doing whatever it was she was doing. She was a hard worker and always busy. If she had a failing, it was that she often inadvertently caused issues or aggravated them because she refused to see the failings in her children. She also had trouble keeping her mouth shut. But she loved her kids and showed it. She loved her husband and showed it. She loved the farm and showed it.

But when she got pissed, watch out.

“Debbie? It’s your mother,” she snapped into the phone. “No, you listen to me. I only have a few words to say, I’m gonna say them, you’re gonna listen to them and then you’re gonna think about them. You do this to this family, you are no longer my daughter. I am not joking. I am not threatening. That’s just the plain, ole truth. You do this, you will never, ever see or hear from me again. Think about that.”

Then she flipped the phone closed, tossed it on the couch and swept her eyes through the room.

“I’m takin’ a ding-darned walk,” she announced then she promptly stomped out.

After she left the room all occupants remained silent.

Finally, Dean muttered, “Better get my boots on and follow her. No tellin’, in this mood, what she’ll get up to.”

And after delivering that, he moved out the door giving his younger daughter a gloomy look and Mike a jerk of his chin.

When they were alone, Mike felt Dusty’s arms around him get tight and her face plant in his chest.

“Mom never did that,” she mumbled into his chest. “As in ever. Not even close.”

He bent his neck and put his lips to her hair.

“She’ll not get the farm, honey,” he whispered into her hair. “This shit’s a pain in the ass. It’s baffling why she’s done what she’s done. It’s annoying that she’s intent to do what she’s going to do. But, breaking it down, Darrin looked out for his kids, he owned this farm outright and no judge in the state of Indiana is going to find in favor of an attorney who lives in Washington DC and makes six figures at the expense of two boys with no Dad and a legacy farm. So, it might be a pain in the ass but, in the end, this farm will be safe.”

“I need to go back to Texas.”

Mike felt every inch of his body get solid.

“Pardon?” The word was whispered low.

She tipped her head back and caught his eyes, “Sell my place. Sort out the gallery. Deal with getting the bigger kilns up here. To fight this, we need money. To make a go of this farm, Fin needs help. This is no longer me stepping in for a few months, Mike. Debbie’s got her teeth into this, it goes to the courts, this shit could take months and not a few of them. I need to make the move permanent. Or, at least, rent my place out so it isn’t sitting there costing me money and go back once Fin is settled and hopefully Rhonda is sorted and lastly Debbie is out of the way. And Kirby’s bed is okay but staying in a teenager’s bedroom is gonna get old fast. I know this because it already is. And Kirb and Fin don’t much like the new arrangement either. They’re used to having their own space. With this new shit, Mom and Dad, I know, will be in for the long haul. I need space of my own. A studio apartment. Whatever. But I need to start sorting my life and I need to start doing it yesterday.”

Mike stared down into her eyes and he could not say this didn’t please the fuck out of him. It did. Absolutely.

But Jesus, she was making huge life decisions in a matter of seconds.

“Honey, maybe you might wanna think on that. A day, two or, better yet, a week.”

“Is Debbie’s mind gonna change in a day or two or a week?” she shot back and shook her head. “No. Is McGrath gonna vaporize into thin air? Especially when it becomes public record a family is battling over a farm he wants?” Another shake of the head. “No. Is Rhonda gonna snap out of it, especially now, with Mom here, a Mom who will cook, clean, grocery shop so she’ll have more time to retreat? No. I could go on, Mike. But, advice, get used to this. This is me, babe. I don’t fuck around. My family needs me and those boys don’t need me with it in the back of their mind that at any time I can bolt. They gotta know I’m committed. I’m committed. And, uh…by the way, I’ve fallen in love with one of The ‘Burg’s cops. He’s got roots I don’t wanna dig out because I like them. So, it might be a decision on the fly but you have to admit with all that, it’s a good one.”

She was not wrong.

“Don’t leave for a week,” Mike said.

“Mike, I have to –”

His arms gave her a squeeze and he dipped his face close.

“Don’t leave for a week,” he repeated. “Next weekend the kids are at Audrey’s. I’ll see if I can get Friday and Monday off. Talk to Audrey about keepin’ them Sunday night. We’ll leave Friday morning after the kids go to school. I’ll go down with you, help you out.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered immediately, “I would love that.”

She meant it, every word. No hiding. Straight out.

Jesus, fuck, it was soon, he knew it, he didn’t fucking care.

He loved the woman he held in his arms, straight up, straight to the heart.

“I’ll talk to my Cap first thing in the morning,” he whispered back. “Talk to the kids tomorrow after school.”

A shadow passed over her face before she asked, “Is it going to be okay, them staying with Audrey? Will they be cool with that? Will she be cool with it? And how did your talk go?”

“The talk, I’ll explain later. The other, it’s one night, they’ll survive and she’s indicated she wants to work on her relationship with them. She’s got Sunday night and Monday before she goes to work to start doin’ that.”

He watched her brows draw together. “She wants to work on their relationship?”

“This is her most recent claim.”

“That’s good,” Dusty said softly, pressing closer.

She did not know Audrey.

“We’ll see.”

She grinned suddenly. “You’re coming home with me.”

No. He was going to where her soon-to-be past home would be.

He didn’t share that.

Instead he grinned back and said, “Yeah.”

“Awesome,” she whispered. “So, we can’t celebrate by making out or other such activities. How about I get you a beer, you can fill me in on Audrey and then you can leave but not before you let me make out with you in the cold, dark, early March evening on a farm in Indiana?”

“How about you come home with me, we have a beer in my kitchen, I explain things about Audrey while doing double duty of providing my presence in the house which would keep Fin’s hands to himself. Also, gotta give Fin a brief about this recent shit, he should be in the know and has proved he can deal with it. Then you can walk home with your nephew.”

“I like my idea better,” she mumbled.

“So would Fin and Reesee,” Mike replied.

“Your idea doesn’t include making out,” she noted.

“Gotta get through the cold, dark, early March evening to get to my back gate. We’ll see if we can find the opportunity.”

“Bet we will,” she whispered.

“We won’t know unless you shut up, get your boots and jacket on and your ass in gear.”

“That sucks too,” she remarked and his brows went up.

“What sucks?”

“You’re hot when you’re angry and you’re hot when you’re bossy. These both mean I’m pretty screwed.”

Mike grinned.

Dusty grinned back and snuggled closer.

He liked that but it didn’t stop him from ordering, “Boots, jacket, ass in gear.”

She rolled her eyes. Then she smiled big. Then she swayed up on her toes to touch her mouth to his.

Then she broke free, got her boots, her jacket and her ass in gear.

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