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“Madi who?”
Dolly tilts her head, her hands stilling. “Madi Wright.”
“I haven’t spoken to Madi Wright in three and a half years, aside from last night.”
A snort and giggle echo through the large kitchen. Rosie covers her mouth while Dolly gapes at me.
“Are you serious? You haven’t been sending her letters all this time?”
I shake my head, turning to Rosie, who is trying to contain her laughter. “Is something funny, Dixon?”
Rosie shrugs as she measures out the flour. “You wanna make a double batch?” she asks Dolly.
My sister nods at her question before replying, “That bitch has been lying to me this whole time then! What the actual hell? I will kick her ass!”
“No, you won’t,” Rosie muses.
“Like hell you will.” I speak at the same time Rosie does, both of us shutting down Dolly.
“I’m sure it was just an attention grab. She’s had everyone wrapped up in their angsty Romeo and Juliet love story all this time, and she thought she’d have more time to say they tragically broke up, and then he was just out,” Rosie suggests, waving a hand in my direction.
I take a bite of the muffin. “I don’t want her over here. I don’t want a party—and don’t think I don’t know you’re still trying to throw one. I have shit to do on the ranch. I don’t have time for clingy women and this bullshit.” I head toward the back door, needing to get out of the estrogen-filled space.
Dolly folds her arms. “Fine. I’ve never felt so used in my life. Our friendship for the entire time you were gone was a lie.” She turns to Rosie, pulling her tightly into a hug. “You’re literally the only friend I’ve ever had who wasn’t just talking to me to get close to one of my brothers.”
What about Duke? She’s here because she’s boning our brother, not because she’s Dolly’s friend.
Rosie smiles, hugging my sister back despite the flour that’s now coating the front of her leggings, which hug her ass perfectly.
It’s been way too long since I got laid …
Dolly starts murmuring about how they need a girls’ night, which jerks me back to the reality that I have no business hanging out in the kitchen with two women when there’s work to be done on the ranch.
My father is still sitting at the bar, but he seems to be in his own world and not paying attention to the conversation.
I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “What do you say we go for a walk, Pops? I need to be brought up to speed around here.”
Pops nods, reaching for another muffin before standing up with a grunt.
“Careful, Mr. Dixon. You need to eat some protein with all those carbs, or you’ll get lightheaded. Here, take some of this sausage that’s left over from breakfast.” Rosie opens the fridge and shuffles through some glass containers. She pulls out one with sausage patties in it; she takes a few out, wraps them in a paper towel, and hands it to my dad.
“Thanks, honey.”
He turns and starts walking toward the back door with a half smile on his wrinkled face. I walk out after holding open the door for him, my mind spinning with questions about when the hell Rosie Dixon got so close to my family.
Rosie dating Duke was always an inconvenience, but after my arrest and conviction, things changed. The mayor of La Pradera, Clay Dixon, was a key player in my charges and sentencing. Rosie’s father and mine always had a healthy rivalry after my mother chose the Redford last name over becoming a Dixon.
It still amazes me how time doesn’t heal all, or even most, wounds. It just makes them fester and seep with infection.
Rosie’s part in all of it is unclear, but her presence at the ranch makes me uneasy.
Do her loyalties lie with my brother and sister or with her father?
The Texas chill is in the air as the early November wind sings around us. Pops shuffles through the dirt while taking bites of the breakfast sausage. The horse barn looms ahead of us, a few of the ranch hands milling about. I watch each of their hands, checking for weapons.
You’re home. You’re safe here.
I try to relax my shoulders, exhaling deeply.
