Page 87 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“You need to get behind the wheel of that vehicle,” Darla says, pointing the gun at him. “You need to drive as far away from this town as possible. Don’t look back. Don’t pass go. Don’t collect 200 dollars, you miserable son of a bitch.”

“Hold on, ma’am, I’m trying to help Melissa!”

“You’re only trying to help yourself,” she hisses and takes a step forward.

Jake moves back, hands up as his eyes widen with the realization that Darla is not kidding. She has every intention of shootinghim in the face if he doesn’t do as he’s told.

“Melissa, please,” he tries to reason with me again, but I don’t budge.

Instead, I cradle my womb and find comfort and safety in Darla’s presence. All the Averys are hardcore and insanely protective of their family and loved ones. I see it now. The drive, the fierceness, the fearlessness. It’s in their blood, and I sure as hell hopes it gets passed down to my babies.

“Hey!” she shouts again. “What did I just say?”

“Alright, alright!” Jake concedes and moves farther back. “I’m leaving.”

“I don’t see you leaving just yet,” Darla replies. “Get in the car. Drive. Leave Melissa alone, or I swear to all that is holy in this world I will empty this gun into your sorry ass.”

I hold my breath as I watch him get back in his car and drive off. He makes a sharp left turn and disappears around the block. Once he’s out of my sight, I exhale slowly and welcome Darla behind the wheel.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice uneven with emotion. “And I am so sorry.”

“What the hell are you sorry for?” she asks, putting the gun back in the glove compartment.

“This! This whole frickin’ mess. Jake, the cartel, guns everywhere… I’m so tired. I never asked for any of it.”

Darla gives me a long, hard look. “Of course you didn’t ask for any of it, nor could I blame you. I get it, now. You are a victim of that asshole’s scheming, pure and simple. You just happened tocross our path, and I know with unshakable confidence that God didn’t bring you to us willy-nilly. This was meant to happen. This bubble had to burst.”

“This is more than a bubble,” I sigh deeply. “It’s a nightmare.”

“And you’re not dealing with any of it on your own, alright? I’ve got you. The boys have got you. Hell, Sammy and Kyle and Jason have your back, too. You’ve seen all those neighbors patrolling the ranch, covering our asses… this is what we do out here, honey. We look out for our own.”

“I still feel responsible.”

“You’ll feel less responsible once we get some food in you.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re at the Cavalier, getting comfy at one of their corner tables. It’s nice and warm in here. Relatively quiet, too. The lunch rush is over, and only a few customers are hanging around the bar at this time.

Louisa comes over with our menus. She’s just as pretty and as obnoxious as the last time I saw her.

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in,” the girl says, then gives Darla a flat smile. “How are you doing, Auntie D?”

“I’ve seen better days,” Darla replies. “What’s with all that makeup?”

“Huh?” Louisa is taken by surprise. She doesn’t know how to react. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with my makeup?”

Darla scoffs. “You’re barely legal, honey. No need for cakey foundation and way too much eyeshadow, especially in this line of work. What are you tryin’ to do, hit menopause before you turn thirty?”

“Oh, wow, that’s… harsh.”

“It makes you look old.”

“I would really love a chicken and mushroom pie with the flaky crust, if your kitchen is open,” I cut in with a soft smile, almost feeling sorry for the girl. “And some sparkling water, please.”

“Huh? The chicken and mushroom pie,” the girl says, then starts jotting it down. “Right. Yeah, kitchen’s open, we can get that done for you. Anything to start with?”

“Um, maybe a cheese and tomato salad?”

“Okay,” she replies, taking my order. “And sparkling water, you said.”

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