Page 5 of Any Luck at All

“We both did,” Lee said quietly. “We found out a few years ago by accident.”

“And no one thought to tell me?” Adalia asked, her voice so full of pain it hurt Georgie’s heart. She wanted to reach out and comfort her sister, to tell her they hadn’t meant for it to go so long. Adalia had been going through a bad stretch, and she and Lee had decided it wasn’t a good time to tell their baby sister. And then there had never been a good time after that.Oh, by the way, Lee and I found out that Dad cheated on Mom, and we have a brother only a few months older than you. How’s the weather?

But now this was a huge mess, and Adalia’s hurt feelings were entirely justified.

“Addy,” Lee said, his voice full of apology.

“Don’t you even try to explain it!” Adalia said to her brother, then turned her icy stare on Prescott. “And you! Howdareyou cheat on our mother!”

“Here, dear,” Dottie said, getting up and putting yet another stone in front of Adalia.

“I don’t think a crystal’s gonna fix this, Aunt Dottie,” River said in a dry tone.

“Nonsense,” Dottie said, her eyes burning brightly. “Nothing’s broken that can’t be put back together.”

Georgie wasn’t so sure about that.

Chapter Two

Watching the Buchanan family made River feel like a rubbernecker checking out an accident by the side of the road. It was more uncomfortable than the suit he was wearing, which was saying something.

He caught the eye of the pretty blonde again, the one with her hair pulled back in a bun so tight it looked like it hurt. Georgie. Beau had told him a little about her visit, although he hadn’t mentioned a damn thing about passing over his son and giving the brewery to his grandkids. Prescott had been pretty upfront about wanting to pawn Beau’s legacy, and probably Beau had expected that. Maybe the kids wouldn’t sell, although he suspected four strangers could run a business together better than this crew.

He doubted any of them knew jack about beer.

There were tears in Georgie’s eyes, which made his stomach wrench a little. Beau’s son and grandson were obviously blowhards—well, Junior, at least—but the granddaughters seemed okay. Still, he felt worse for the guy sitting next to him. The secret son. For everything that had been said around and about him, he hadn’t said a word. He’d just soaked it all in like he was used to listening, to reacting rather than acting.

River knew what it felt like to be the kid who got left behind—literally, in his case—and it sucked. Now, this guy had become the sideshow in this hoity-toity circus, through the mere act of being born. The look in his eyes said he could take it, though—that maybe this was something he’d been waiting for, his chance to claim whatever piece of the Buchanan pie he felt he was owed.

In this case, a fourth of Beau’s estate.

It was time for the rest of them to leave.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” he said, to which all of the other non-Buchanans eagerly nodded. “Give the family some space. You’ve already addressed the parts of the will that relate to us, right, Henry? Any reason for us to stay?”

Henry gave him a panicked look. His handkerchief was as wet as if he’d soaked it in one of Aunt Dottie’s water pitchers. He clearly didn’t enjoy the thought of being left with the Buchanans, and really, who could blame him.

“Good idea, dear,” Aunt Dottie said. “But if I remember correctly, I’m supposed to stay until the end.”

Adalia had picked up the crystal his aunt had given her and was turning it around in her hand as if she might hurl it at someone—who the target would be was anyone’s guess—but her eyes flew up at his aunt’s comment. “You knew I had another brother before I did!”

Her tone was shrill, and Prescott picked up his glass of water, untouched, of course, and banged it down on the table. “You will stop acting like a child this instant, Adalia. We’ve had enough of your display.”

She’d been saucy enough earlier that River expected her to throw back a comment, but she didn’t. She just sat back in her chair, her mouth in a thin line, like she was forcing herself to hold back all the things she wanted to say. Or maybe she was just trying not to cry. With her short curly hair, she looked every bit the part of the little sister. Somehow that made it worse. He didn’t think much of men who intimidated women.

The door closed, and River realized Rita had already left the room. Smart lady.

“See,” Aunt Dottie said brightly, although River knew her well enough to see beyond it, “aren’t you glad I got the glasses? A plastic bottle would never have made such an authoritative sound. You would havecrushedit.”

“Whoisthis woman?” Prescott asked Henry. “Is there any reason for her to stay?”

The words were said with such distaste, River felt the urge to bite back, but this was his aunt’s moment too, and if anyone knew how to stand up for herself, it was Dottie Hendrickson. A man had attempted to mug her once, and she’d reduced him to tears in the space of five minutes, and not because she kept a can of mace in her purse. She’d engaged him in conversation, and he’d spilled his life story to her. She’d invited him home for tea, and he still sent her a card every Christmas. That was Aunt Dottie for you.

“Dad…” Junior said, likely the first time he’d done anything to stand up to his father, but he needn’t have bothered.

“Oh, bless your heart,” Aunt Dottie said. “I’m the woman who’s shared your father’s bed for the last twenty years.”

Andthatwas his cue.

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