Page 103 of When the Smoke Clears

Maci

“Ok,I’vegotthelist, I’ll be back in a bit!”

“Thanks, dear.” Andi gives me an air kiss on the cheek before I head outside to my Jeep. There are a few last-minute items to grab before the stores are jam-packed with Thanksgiving shoppers.

I don’t bother letting the Jeep warm up, but by the time I’m to the front gate, it’s blasting warm air into the cab. The wrought iron bars of the gate sport a beautiful script S and swing open easily.

A car is perched on the shoulder near the driveway. I’m on high alert as the driver exits their car, not sure if this person needs help or is here to cause trouble. I roll the window down anyway, determined to floor it, if need be.

A woman in jeans and a sweater walks over. She’s carrying paperwork in her hand.

“Do you need some help?” I furrow my brows, taking her in. “Are you lost?”

When she nears my window, she says, “Maci?”

My head pulls back. I don’t know this woman. “Yes?”

“Maci McCullough?” she asks again, all business.

Something niggles the back of my head. “…Yes.”

“This is a summons. Please sign here in acknowledgment.” She shoves half of the stack through my window, continuing to speak rapid-fire style.

“Excuse me?” The words don’t make sense as I study it.

A huge X is at the top of the page. “Sign here,” she demands, tapping with a pen.

Slowly, I take the pen from her, still not making sense of what I’m reading. I sign my name slower than usual and return the page to her, left with a few sheets in my hand.

She says nothing else before heading back to her car. My eyes dart between her and the paperwork.

Did I really just get served?

I stare at the heading for a while, finally computing that Alan is suing me for the wrongful death of Colt. This can’t be happening.

Folding the papers in half, I fling them into the passenger seat and whip around in the street, heading back onto the ranch. I take the drive faster than usual, parking with a lurch and jumping out with the mangled pages.

Andi’s head pops out of the kitchen, her lips pursed and brows drawn in confusion. “Did you forget something?” she asks, when she sees me coming up the hall.

“No, someone was waiting for me at the gate.” My breathing is shallow as I reach her.

“What? Who?” She looks me over as if the answer is hidden somewhere on me.

I hold the summons up. “A process server. Look at this; I just got served.”

She takes a beat to look back and forth between my face and hands several times. Finally, she takes the papers and looks at them. One hand comes to her mouth as she reads silently.

The front door closes hard and both of our heads jerk to find Sutton storming in. “You okay?”

“No, but how did you know I was here?”

“Jason saw you come hauling ass back in the drive and told me. What’s going on?” His hackles are raised and he studies me, looking for anything amiss.

“I got served.”

His eyes snap wide before narrowing. “By who?” he asks, but it’s clear he already knows the answer.

“Alan,” I tell him anyway.

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