Page 42 of Bones and Ashes

He leans back a little, smiling so big his blue eyes nearly twinkle. "My child? Our child. A Savannah Ashby lookalike. A carbon copy of her life's work."

I huff a laugh. "No. A Legion Kane lookalike. A carbon copy of her life's obsession."

"I guess I can't argue about that. She was obsessed with me."

"Was it ever weird?"

Now it's his turn to laugh. "Savannah, it was always weird. But…" he lets out a long breath. "It made her happy, ya know? I mean, as a child… I didn't know what the hell she was doin'. She was like a stalker who brought me school lunches and needed to capture every emotion I ever felt."

"She brought you school lunches?"

"With the crusts cut off and everything."

"I don't even know what to say about that."

"Nah. It's not an easy thing to pin down. It did make her happy though. Especially at the end. That's why there were nudes. She didn't tell me to do that, you know. But I knew she wanted it. Not in a weird way, either. She just saw me as…"

"A subject."

"Yeah. But that makes it sound cold, and it wasn't cold. I think I loved your mother. A hell of a lot more than I ever loved my own, that's for sure. If only because she was a constant. But not only because she was a constant. She… cared."

I let out a long sigh. "I feel like… I maybe didn't give her enough credit as a mother. I only got the controlling side. But now, after you said the word 'baby'—" I pause here to side eye him. "I can't help but feel sad that she won't be here to photograph it."

He leans in and kisses me. My cheek, my neck, my breast. Then he looks me in the eyes, smiling. "She won't need to be here to photograph it. Because you'll be here to do that yourself."

I'm just about to respond to that when the sound of heavy bootsteps draws my attention to the door.

Then poundin'. "Savannah," Cash growls from the other side. "It's fuckin' dinner time. Put your damn clothes back on and come downstairs."

Which makes Legion burst out laughing so loud, I have to cover his mouth with my lips.

Legion puts himself together quickly and goes downstairs, but I take my time. Thinking about Eleanor has got my attention. And it occurs to me now that Legion is the only person who isn't family who was ever allowed to come upstairs.

Well, Mercy was the first. Cash gave her a bedroom down the hall. But a child comin' up and a man like Legion Kane comin' up are two very different things.

That's probably why Cash pounded on my door. Obviously, this is not the first time Legion's been in my bedroom. There were frequent visits when he was recovering here.

He was a resident of the house. No part of it was off limits. He lived here.

But recovering resident and steady boyfriend—public boyfriend, at that—are two very different things.

At least in Cash's mind.

Of course, Cash cannot forbid me to bring Legion up here. The estate, after all, is still mine. I am the woman of the house.

Can't run the damn ranch. Can't even run the damn house.

But it's still mine to command from a distance.

I'm sittin' at my vanity touching up my make up when this thought hits. Because command, Savannah? Do you?

No.

I don't even try to command it.

If Cash and Wyatt left the way Colt did—just packed up their egos and their ambitions and drove off toward something shinier—I'd be in a hell of a spot. And I know this. I know it the way I know the water table under this land, which is to say I know the fact of it without understanding the mechanics, and that gap between knowin' and understandin’ is exactly the problem.

The ranch isn't how this family creates wealth. Not really. The wealth is intrinsic—it's in the aquifers, and the water rights, and the mineral leases, and the shell corporations.