Page 34 of Branded

“Putting the girls to bed.” Mom finally stands, crossing to us with that cultivated grace she’s perfected over decades. “They were so excited about meeting their new aunt that they refused to nap. By dinner time, they were absolute terrors.”

“I’m sorry I missed them,” Lennox says, shifting her attention from Caroline to Mom.

“Oh, you’ll meet them soon, I’m sure.” Mom’s hand settles on Lennox’s shoulder, and I watch her carry out the same assessment Caroline just finished. “They’re curious about you. We all are.”

“Okay, enough, how do we know you aren’t after his money? We all know how you got here, so let’s quit pretending you’re some happy couple in love,” Caroline says as she slams her glass on top of the wet bar.

Lennox moves closer to Caroline and stands toe-to-toe with her. “I assure you, I have no interest in his money; I have more than enough of my own. You see, four thousand head of cattle of the twenty thousand my father has are mine, and of the land he owns, fifty thousand acres of it is also deeded to me. I don’t need anything from the Drake family. I’m very self-sufficient without Sebastian.” She locks eyes with Caroline and doesn’t blink. I really look at my wife. I hadn’t known about her cattle or land; that also wasn’t disclosed when I looked into her.

Caroline studies her for a long moment, then laughs, sharp and short. “Well, I suppose time will tell if you still feel that way in a year.”

“Give me two.” Lennox smirks, but I catch the bitter edge underneath. The remainder of her contract.

“Drink?” Dad asks, breaking the tension. “Lennox, what can I get you? Wine, a cocktail?”

“Whiskey, please.” It is only then that she breaks eye contact with my sister and looks over to my father. “Neat.”

Dad’s eyebrows rise. “A woman after my own heart. Sebastian, your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad.”

While Dad pours drinks, footsteps sound in the hallway. Heavy, measured, tired. Nathaniel appears in the doorway, and I am struck by how much older he looks since I last saw him. Almost a year since his wife’s death, and he still carries it like a millstone around his neck.

“Sebastian.” He crosses to me, and we embrace briefly. “Heard you got married. Congratulations.”

“Nathaniel, this is Lennox. Lennox, my older brother Nathaniel.”

“Warren Briggs’s daughter, I hear.” Nathaniel shakes her hand, and his grip is firm, calloused from ranch work. Unlike Caroline’s calculating assessment or Mom’s social evaluation, Nathaniel smiles warmly, although it doesn’t quite meet his tired eyes. “Your father runs a good operation. I’ve seen the animals he runs through the ring; in fact, there might be a bull or five here you might recognize.”

“Thank you. He’d be pleased to hear that, and I might need to take a look at those bulls to make sure they’re doing the Briggs name proud.”

“They’re in the south pasture, make the city boy take you out there.” Nathaniel grins, and for the first time in a year, it feels genuine. “My girls are excited to meet you. Fair warning, they’re four, and they’re relentless. They’ll ask a thousand questions and won’t take no for an answer.” He smiles again and takes the drink Dad holds out for him.

“I have two younger sisters who also happen to be twins. I’m a pro at answering questions and dealing with the relentlessness.” Lennox smiles, and something in Nathaniel’s expression softens with her ease where the girls are concerned. “And besides the twins, I have three brothers. Chaos is very familiar.”

“Good.” Nathaniel takes a sip of whiskey. “Because Harper and Hadley are professional chaos agents.”

Dad returns with new drinks for Lennox and me, and we all settle into the salon’s midcentury modern, uncomfortable seating. Mom orchestrates seating like a general positioning her troops, ensuring Lennox is between her and Caroline on the sofa.

I take the chair across from them, close enough to intervene if necessary but far enough that the women can establish their own dynamic.

“So, Lennox.” Mom sips her wine, always wine, never whiskey. “Tell us about yourself. Your family. How did you end up in California?”

“There’s not much to tell. Fifth-generation Montana rancher. Grew up working cattle, learning the operation. I went to Montana State for my business degree, then came home and worked on the ranch for a few years.”

“And then?” Caroline prompts.

“And then I got an itch to see something different. My father began making noise about suitable marriages, neighboring ranches, alliances that would benefit the operation.” Lennox meets Caroline’s eyes steadily. “I wasn’t interested in being married off for land acquisition.”

Caroline gives a soft snort. “I can respect that.”

“So I left. Drove to California with a friend. We got jobs at The Drake in Monterey Cove.”

“And you found yourself married to Sebastian instead.” Mom’s tone is light, but the observation pointed. “Out of the frying pan, as they say.”

“The difference, Eleanor, is I chose to do what I did.” Lennox looks across at me. “My father would have chosen for me.”

The honesty of her answer seems to satisfy Caroline in a way a gushing declaration wouldn’t have. She nods slowly, some of the suspicion easing from her expression.