Page 22

The Jackson estate must be somethin' else in summer when everything's green and fat with water, but right now it's all the colors of fall and I'm not mad about it.

Golds, and burnt oranges, and a deep rust-red that only comes when somethin's dyin' beautiful.

The aspens are still holdin' their yellow—every last one of 'em lit up like matchheads against the darker timber behind 'em—and in a normal year they'd be stripped bare by now, just pale white bones reachin' at the sky.

But they had a late start here too, I guess. So the leaves are hangin' on, stubborn, refusin' to let go even though the cold's already creepin' in at the edges.

The mountains behind the property are already wearin' snow on their shoulders, the Tetons risin' up north like a wall between here and wherever God actually lives, and the light comin' off all that white hits the aspens just right and turns 'em into somethin' I don't have a word for.

The whole property sits in it—this late golden hour that makes even the fences look deliberate, even the gravel look placed.

Everything here is curated. Even the fuckin' season.

Destiny picks up third ring. "Legion," she says. "How nice to hear from you."

"How nice to hear from you?" I'm makin' a face as I repeat this back at her. "What the hell kind of greetin' is that?"

"It's called being polite, you asshole. What do you want."

"There she is," I snicker. "My middle baby sister. For a moment I thought you went all trad wife on me."

"Maybe I have? What's wrong with bein' one of them? They get to stay home, make bread, and cuddle their babies."

I pause a beat. "Oh. You're serious."

She huffs at me. "What can I do for you today, Legion?"

"Well, thank you for askin', good madam." I only barely hold in my laugh here. And only because the pissed-off version of Destiny isn't my destination. "I am callin' because I would like to invite you and your family to dinner."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"I'm in Jackson, Legion." She's already tired of me.

"Coincidence. So am I."

"You're in Jackson?" I hear whisperin' in the background now. Colt. "Since when?"

"Since this afternoon. Savannah and I came in on the jet for a little weekender. I thought it'd be nice to get together and see you."

She hesitates, then I'm pretty sure she puts me on mute because things go dead silent.

"Destiny?"

Silence. Oh, they are havin' a chat about this, all right.

And I don't really understand it. Destiny and I have never been siblings like that. We're too far apart in age. I was more like an uncle than a brother.

Everything between us feels very different since I got out. Before I went to prison we were pretty good. We weren't friends, or nothin'. I paid the bills and bought groceries and Destiny was in charge of the house.

I didn't tell her to clean or nothin'. I didn't tell her to have my mac and cheese waitin' on the table when I got home. My presence was peripheral, at best.

Shit got done, or it didn't, and I never cared.

Now though… now she's got opinions about me that I didn't plant there myself.

I think about this as I wait for her to come back. Then realize that Cash had opinions about me too.