“So your mom and dad…?”

“Got divorced.” Tell tore his gaze away from her and looked for Landon. Sneaky kid was nowhere to be found. He said, “Gimme a sec,” and jogged to the monkey bars.

Landon wasn’t crawling around the jungle gym or sitting on the swings. Tell spun a slow circle and squinted at the flash of red by the picnic tables.

There the little bugger was. Tell froze when he saw his father sitting next to Landon on a picnic bench. He’d had to bribe Landon with ice cream to get the boy’s attention.

Tell meandered over, feeling his skin tighten and toughen up. “Dad.”

“You ain’t keepin’ a very good eye on my grandson, Tell. Anyone coulda snatched him up while you was yammering to that girl. You always did have the attention span of a dog with fleas. Praise the Lord I was here.”

Landon jumped off the seat and wrapped his arm around Tell’s leg. “Whoa there, buddy. Sit down. I’m right here. Didja tell Grandpa thanks for the ice cream?”

“Thanks.” Landon ducked his dark-haired head.

“It’s a shame the kid don’t know who I am.”

And whose fault is that?

“Your mother is probably poisoning him against me,” Casper said with a sneer.

Tell wouldn’t let that comment slide. “I reckon with you’re doin’ that just fine yourself. If you want him to know you, you’ve gotta spend time with him. Which you haven’t done, even when we’ve given you opportunities.”

“Doin’ the Lord’s work keeps me busy.”

And of course that was more important. Anything was more important than mending the rift with his family.

“I see your mother’s got you jumping through hoops now too.” He pointed at Landon. “How often does she ask you to watch the boy?”

Way too often, but Tell wasn’t about to give his father that ammo. “Me’n Landon are pals, right, bud?”

Landon nodded.

“Where’s my youngest son? Ain’t you two joined at the hip?”

“Dalton helped with chores and then he took off.”

“I ain’t surprised Brandt didn’t show up.” Casper shook his finger. “Remind him he’d better call me when that baby arrives. I’ve already talked to my pastor about baptizing the child.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Brandt and Jessie, Dad. Leave me out of it.”

“At least that’s one thing your mother and I did right. Havin’ all you boys baptized. Even if we didn’t follow through and raise you up proper in the church.”

Becoming a sober, born-again Christian hadn’t made Casper McKay any nicer. It’d just given him faith that he’d be forgiven by God for whatever mean thing that spewed out of his mouth.

Tell studied his father, knowing he hated it. Casper had been sober for a year and a half. He’d lost all the puffy, pasty skin and bloated body shape that had been the result of years of alcohol abuse. He’d let his hair grow instead of keeping it short, strands of silver prevalent against the black. His eyes, identical to the ones staring back at Tell in the mirror every day, were clear, yet still filled with the disapproval Tell had felt his entire life.

Landon shouted, “Gram!” He raced across the park, throwing himself into Joan McKay’s arms.

Tell couldn’t help but smile. Landon loved his grandma, and his mother loved having a living reminder of the son she’d lost.

As she walked over, holding Landon’s hand, Tell had to remind himself this relaxed, laughing woman was his mother. Not only did she look happier after leaving her husband, she owned an air of confidence—too much, maybe, to make up for the years she’d had none.

Tell whispered, “Lookin’ good, Mama,” and kissed her cheek. Then he offered his hand to her companion. “Bart. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Tell.”

She looked at her ex-husband. “Casper.”

“Joan.” Casper gave Bart a full inspection, but didn’t offer his hand.

“So everything went okay? No problems?” she asked.

“We had a great time like we always do, huh, Landon?” Tell said, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“Yep. I got to ride on the four-wheeler three times! And Uncle Dalton buyed me a new toy, a backhoe, and we dug a big hole and he let me fill it with water!”

She laughed. “And I’ll bet your uncle had to hose you down outside afterward.”

“We had a water fight.”

“Boys will be boys.”

Casper snorted. “Dalton is long past bein’ a boy. He needs to grow up and start actin’ like a man.”

Joan stiffened. “And just where was Dalton supposed to learn how to be a man? Because you’re definitely not the example he oughta be following, Casper.”

Shit. This was not good. He hated how they verbally assaulted one another and that his brothers were never around to witness it or help him break it up.

Bart said, “Tell, how about if you give me your keys and me’n Landon will get his stuff.”

Tell tossed them over. Bart and Landon took off.

He didn’t blame them. Maybe he should’ve gone along.

“You’re getting mouthy in your old age, Joan,” Casper said.

“And you’re still an asshole in yours, Casper.”

“Does that young fella sharin’ your bed like your dirty mouth?” His eyes gleamed. “I remember when you used to—”

“Goddammit, Dad, that’s enough.”

Casper whirled on him. “Don’t you be takin’ the Lord’s name in vain. God wouldn’t smite me down for popping you one in the mouth for your blasphemy.”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Joan snapped. “We get that you’ve switched your allegiance from Jameson to Jesus. And don’t forget—”

“That goes for you too, Mom. Stop it. Both of you.”

“Fine. I need to get going anyway since we’re meeting Brandt and Jessie for supper.” Of course she had to get in another shot. She hugged him. “Thanks for everything, son. I’ll call you.”

She didn’t even look his direction before she walked off.

“That woman needs—”

“I’m warning you to shut it,” Tell said.

Casper muttered something about him still being a mama’s boy.

“Look. I’ll see you. I got things to do.” That’s when Tell realized his family drama caused him to forget about Georgia entirely. He looked over at the last place she’d been, but she was gone.

“Like what?” his father said to his retreating back.

Like walking into the closest bar.

He needed a goddamn drink.

Chapter Three

Tell ordered a beer and a burger. He’d finished half and most his fries when his buddy Thurman Watson showed up. Not only had he and Thurman been friends since fifth grade, these days they were the last bachelors in their group of friends.

“Since you called me… You buying my supper, McKay?”

“I guess.”

The waitress brought Thurman a Coors and took his order to the kitchen. “Will you call me a pussy if I admit I ain’t in the partyin’ mood tonight?”

“Nope.” Tell swirled a fry through a puddle of ranch dressing and popped it in his mouth. “How long you in town?” Thurman spent three weeks out of every month on the road as a long-haul trucker.

“Until tomorrow. I oughta have next week off, but I picked up an extra load going to Seattle. Then I hit Salt Lake and Denver before I get back.”

For the next hour they bullshitted about family crap and work, drank and played pool. A few of their buddies showed up. They eyed the ladies trolling in the bar; most seemed barely legal. Tell was talking to Thurman’s older brother, Warner, when Thurman stepped in front of him.

“You’ll never guess who just walked in.”

“You buyin’ me a beer if I guess right?”

“Sure. ’Cause you ain’t never gonna get this one.”

Tell smirked. “Is it…Georgia Hotchkiss?”

Thurman’s jaw dropped. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I’ve run into her twice, actually.”

“And somehow you just forgot to mention that to me?”

“You said you weren’t interested in partyin’ or gossiping like an old woman tonight.”

“Fuck off. This ain’t gossip. This is news, my friend.”

Tell rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, McKay.” Thurman looked around before he lowered his voice. “You had it bad for her.”

“So did half the damn school. Which is why Deck gave her a purity ring until he could swap it out for a wedding band.”

Before his friend could rib him any more, their buddy Ned showed up with his wife, Roxanne. Then Warner’s wife, Leah, joined them. The group had grown to six, so they claimed a circular booth in the back corner.

After ordering a couple pitchers, talk turned to the weather, sports and kids. Warner still team roped on occasion and he and Tell talked about upcoming rodeos.

During a lull, Roxanne said to Tell, “I take it Jessie hasn’t popped yet?”

“She’s got three weeks left. If Brandt could hurry that baby up, he would.”

“Then he’ll wanna shove it right back in there after it’s been cryin’ for two days straight and it won’t stop,” Warner said.

Leah bumped him with her shoulder. “Says the big, tough daddy. Now all Desiree has to do is pout and Daddy gives her whatever she wants.”

A skinny bleached blonde butted in and perched on the edge of the booth, right next to Tell. “If it isn’t my favorite cowboy.”

“Mira. How’s it goin’?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

“And why’s that?” God, he hoped she didn’t ask him for money.