Page 92 of That Feeling

“Well, it was two known poachers. They’ve got a record for doing shit like this in Wyoming, Montana, and here.”

“And they weren’t locked up why?” I roll my eyes at the amount of shit poachers get away with around here. It’s not just about hunting animals illegally, it’s shit like this. People get killed over mistakes because they’re hunting on land they have no business being on.

“They will be now, son, you can guarantee that. Sheriff tried saying they were arresting them for trespassing and some criminal negligence bullshit, but I drove to his office yesterday and we had a little chat.”

My dad has that look in his eye—the one my entire family has come to know as the don’t fuck with the Slades unless you plan on going to war look.

“Yeah? How’d that go?”

“I reminded him of how I know he’s looked the other way a time or two over the years for some unsavory people, and how if anyone found out, his career would be over real quick.”

I know my dad, and the last thing he likes doing is throwing his name and knowledge around to get what he wants, but I also know the thing he hates more than that is when someone hurts or attempts to hurt his family.

“So what’s that mean? I don’t want them bringing unfounded charges against someone just because I got shot.”

“That’s not what it is, son. These two men knew the dangers and they’ve had several chances. This isn’t the only time they’ve shot at someone, but it’s the first time they’ve hit someone. The sheriff is aware of that and he’s making sure justice will be served here and they won’t just be let off with a slap on the wrist. Not this time.”

A bit of relief washes over me. “Thanks, Dad. I’m glad they’re locked up for now. I have no doubt it wasn’t some targeted attack on me—just reckless behavior—but still, this is how people end up dead.”

“Doc said you’re going home tomorrow?”

“Yup, looks like it.”

He looks over at Brooklyn then back at me. “Don’t be giving her a hard time with all this. You better take it easy and listen to what the doc tells you. Take it easy for a while, son.”

I wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine, Dad, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be back to work by the end of the week.”

“The hell you will!” Brooklyn snaps, overhearing my comments.

Dad laughs and motions for Trent and Celeste to leave the room. “Come on, let’s get going so he can rest. I have no doubt he’s in good hands with this one.” He pats Brooklyn on the shoulder as they leave.

I’ve been homefor a week and Brooklyn’s been on my ass every damn day. I love that woman more than life itself, but man, can she be annoying.

“You know our kids won’t be able to get away with shit,” I laugh as she takes the shovel out of my hand. She replaces it with a glass of lemonade.

“If they’re anything like you, I’m going to have my hands full. Come on, sit on the porch with me.”

“Speaking of kids, you ready for the 12-week appointment tomorrow?” I place my hand over her belly.

“I am. I can’t wait for the 16-week one when we find out the sex.”

“How are you feeling about the wedding stuff?”

She glances over at me with an annoyed look. “No, we’re not putting it off. Things are going really smoothly and everything is already booked.”

I chuckle. “Okay, okay, I just know with work and the pregnancy and me getting myself in this situation, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, baby. I just want you to be able to enjoy our special day and not feel so stressed about it.”

“I know, but I’ll be even more stressed if we push it off. I’ll barely fit into my dress two months from now, and everyone will be pretty suspicious when it looks like I have a basketball under my dress.”

“You think we’ll be able to pull off the surprise?”

She looks down at her belly. “I think so. Just have to make sure I don’t cave to the constant donut temptation around the office.”

We both look off into the distance as Trent’s SUV comes down the driveway.

“You two look like Mom and Dad sitting on the porch drinking lemonade,” he says when he pulls up. “Brook, you sure you’re ready to settle down and be this old man’s wife?” He laughs and walks up the porch with a basket of muffins. “Milly sent these with me.”

“Oh, what flavors?” Brooklyn grabs the basket and pops half a muffin in her mouth, moaning in pleasure. She looks over at me. “Don’t say a word.”

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