“Yeah. But I figured you might want to know exactly what you’re getting. And... just so you know, they’re not quite as civilized as I am.”
She snorted. “I’m not as civilized as you are, Sheriff. I should fit right in.”
Chapter Four
As they walked through the front door, he thought about what Bix had said. And he realized that it was probably true.
“Hey, everybody,” he said when they came in. They were all expecting him to come in with someone, so they were crowded around looking expectantly. “This is Bix. She’s passing through the area and needed work. So, I figured she could stay here on the ranch for a while and do just that.”
“Hi,” she said, her voice a little bit smaller than it had been before.
He had felt some real pity for her when they had first pulled up to the house and she’d asked to go take a shower first.
The poor little thing was dirty, and he could see that she was embarrassed about it. She was wearing his ill-fitting police academy garb. She was clean now, though. Her blond hair hung down her back, and her skin was bright and clear. He noticed for the first time that her eyes were round, and a particularly interesting shade of robin’s-egg blue. She had freckles sprinkled across her nose, and her top lip was a bit fuller than the bottom one. Which lent her a sort of pouty expression. He still couldn’t quite guess her age. He knew shewasn’t being honest about the one she’d given him. He just still didn’t know why.
He had a feeling it had to do with not wanting somebody in the system to know her. Which was hilarious, because once he actually got her name, he wasn’t just going to know her age; he was going to know the details of her rap sheet.
Maybe he was being indiscriminate bringing her into his family home. He had searched her backpack while she showered. She did have a knife in there, just like she’d said. But he hadn’t found a gun. He didn’t think that she was actually dangerous to him or his family. No. She was just down on her luck.
“Howdy, Bix,” said Denver, taking a step forward, fully assuming his patriarchal role. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yes,” said Arizona. “It’s always nice to have another woman around. This place is a sausage fest.”
That was when Rue came out of the kitchen. “What’s that about sausage fests?” Rue asked.
“I was just saying, there are too many men around here for my comfort.”
“There’s more and more women all the time,” said Rue.
“Yeah,” said Denver. “It’s even now.”
“Maybe the issue is that I just don’t likeyou.”
Marriage had tempered Arizona some. Only some. She was still a sharp little scoundrel.
“So yeah, this is everybody,” he said. “Let’s eat.”
The kitchen table was becoming increasingly full. He was proud of that. Because they had grown upkeeping to themselves. They had grown up without any kind of real connection to their mother, and the connection they had to their father was toxic at best. But then things had changed. And slowly, over time, they’d started to build something between each other.
Rue had befriended Justice when her parents had worked on the ranch and had stuck close ever since. They had connections. They had people. Landry and Fia had worked out all their issues. They had their daughter. Arizona and Micah had gotten back together. Yeah. They had built something good. Something warm in place of what had been. And now Bix felt like she was a part of that. Or emblematic of something they were able to do that was... good.
So, there was that.
She sat down at the table, and he sat beside her, feeling somewhat protective.
She looked over at him, and her expression was unreadable. Dinner was already set out, and when she looked back at the food, he could read her expression.
“Eat as much as you want,” he said. “We have plenty.”
It was all the invitation he needed to make. She heaped food on her plate. Potato salad, rolls, steak. Baked beans, and a chicken leg. She tucked into it with relish, and then helped herself to more. Denver looked across the table at him and nodded once. He could see that his older brother had taken measure of the situation and approved.
It wasn’t often Denver approved of him.
As far as Denver was concerned, their duty was to the ranch. To each other. Daughtry felt much morebeholden to the community. To right the wrongs that their father had done.
The wrongs that he had participated in.
Denver didn’t have the same level of atoning to do that Daughtry did.