Page 122 of Chasing Forever
She nods and doesn’t say anything at first. She’s not quick to tell me I’m being stupid, or I should be okay with that, and I appreciate her for it.
“Your last name doesn’t dictate the person you are. You’re not Mayor Watson’s son, or Holden Watson’s brother. You’re Sheriff Brooks Watson. A man who looks out for others before himself. A man who helps others whenever asked, and sometimes when he’s not.” She gives me a lopsided grin. “You’re my husband, and I’m proud to be Lottie Watson. Not because it’s your family name. Not because of who your ancestors were or what they did in their lifetime, but because it means I’m attached to you, a wonderful man whom I love very much.”
I place a kiss on her lips. “God, I love you. That’s the first time I’ve heard you call me your husband. Kinda like it.”
“Well, I showed you how much I appreciated your ‘my wife’ moment from last night when we got home.”
“Yes, you sure did.” I grin.
“All that aside, if you want to be Brooks Owens, we could make it happen.” She laughs, and I tighten my arms around her, resting my cheek on top of her head.
A car driving up my gravel driveway interrupts us, and we both look to see my mom’s car parking near my truck.
“Of course, I’m only in your T-shirt.” Lottie moves to get out of my arms, but I hold her tightly.
“Don’t go.”
She rises on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “This will go much better if I’m not here. Make peace. I’m not saying forgive her, just do what you have to in order to find peace here.” She taps my heart and steps back.
She turns toward the house, Mack trailing at her side, not giving my mother one ounce of his attention. Lottie gives my mom a wide berth as the two of them cross paths. I catch my mom glancing, wondering if Lottie will give her a welcome, but she doesn’t. She keeps her head down. Good girl.
I wait for my mom’s snarky comment about Lottie wearing only my T-shirt, but she stops at the entrance to the barn, as if she’s waiting for an invitation.
“Can I come in?” she asks when I don’t welcome her in.
“Sure.”
She sits at my workbench. Obviously, she just came from somewhere, since she’s all dressed up in a pantsuit.
“I heard about the fight,” she says in a soft tone as if she’s not sure why she’s even here.
I’m not sure why she is either.
“And?” I cross my arms.
“I know you’re angry, but I didn’t bring you boys up to make such a scene. The entire town is talking about it. Your father is already losing the election, thanks to all of this drama.” She waves her hand. “All of this couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Are you looking for me to apologize?” I take the rag and wipe my hands before tossing it on my tool case.
“No. I’m here to explain myself. I should’ve started with that first.” She sits and stares into her lap, gazing at her big wedding ring my dad upgraded after they sold her family’s land. “I left your father when Holden was still young. I ran away.”
I suck in a breath. So she’s going to tell me who my father is. That’s why she’s here. Of course she is. She’s not one to leave things unsaid or open-ended. She needs closure. Maybe I do too.
“I don’t need to explain to you what your father is like. You know how he is. The words he uses like weapons. He can be cruel and downright mean. One night it got really bad, and he raised his hand to me. He didn’t hit me, but the threat was there. So, I saw him off to work the next day, then left. I wrote him a letter and said I didn’t deserve to be treated like that and told him I was leaving him.”
I say nothing, not wanting to fill the space with questions.
“I was gone for three months. I found a waitress job, and my parents were sending me money. I met a married man and became pregnant. He wasn’t going to leave his wife. I never even told him I was pregnant with you. Your father came for Holden and me, after convincing my parents he was a changed man and he wanted his family back. So, I told him I was pregnant with another man’s baby. And he said he’d raise you as his own. And I believe he has.”
“Unfortunately,” I let slip.
She nods, mouth tight. “But he never treated you any differently.”
I scoff, but she ignores it.
“And things were good for years until old habits started to creep back in.”
Neither of us says anything.
