Hero for the Holidays (Four Corners Ranch #9)

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

L ANDRY HEARD THEM walk up the front steps. And he took it upon himself to open the door.

He had told his family that a special guest was coming to dinner tonight, and he hadn’t elaborated. The fact was, he had the sense that they already knew who Lila’s mother was. They just hadn’t said anything. Because they knew he wouldn’t tell them. Not until he was good and ready. And here he was, telling them exactly in the fashion he wanted to.

“Hey there, ladies,” he said, letting them in.

Fia’s green eyes connected with his, and he felt a strange shift in his midsection.

“How was your day?” he asked, lowering his voice slightly.

“It was good,” she said. She looked down at Lila and then back up at him. “It was really good.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“So where is everybody?”

“I believe about to come storming in here with food.”

As if on cue, the back door opened up, and he heard all of his brothers talking. He could also hear Arizona, Daniel and Micah, and he assumed that Rue was there, but you would never hear her over the din of the Kings.

And they all stopped. Speechless, when they walked into the living room.

“I told you that I had a special guest coming tonight,” Landry said.

“Holy shit,” said Justice, freezing in place. “Fia fucking Sullivan.”

He could see Fia pause for just a second, like she was doing a math equation to figure out how to respond. And then it passed, and she smiled.

“Justice fucking King,” Fia said in return. “There’s a kid present.”

“So there is,” said Justice. “I believe she’s my niece, though, and over the past few weeks she’s grown accustomed to the kind of language we use around here.”

“Very interesting. It just so happens that I’m her mother, and I am asking you to watch your mouth.”

And that was that. Fia had done it. He’d been so pissed at Fia for so long he didn’t think he’d ever fully appreciated just how amazing she was.

The lone woman to serve as part of the core, founding board of this version of Four Corners. Denver, Daughtry, Fia, Sawyer Garrett and Gus McCloud had come together when their parents had all cleared off and looked around and seen just how bad it all was. And realized the ranch was going to die if they didn’t do something.

They established the system they had now. A way of sharing profits.

Denver had money from professional gambling and he’d invested a ton of it, pumping the ranch full of cash so they could reinvigorate their herds.

The Sullivans had leased land, started gardening, done whatever they could do to bring capital into the ranch. All led by Fia.

And here she was, holding her own against all the boys yet again.

Lila looked delighted.

He felt...something. Something rise up inside him and grab hold of his throat. An intense kind of possessiveness that he knew full well lived inside of him. This need to gather both Fia and Lila to him and hold them close. To never let them go.

Feeling it now for Fia, that was a hell of a thing. And definitely not his idea.

“What the hell?” Denver asked.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t suspect it,” said Landry. “Can’t you see her?”

He gestured between Lila and Fia.

“Yeah, I can see it, but... Damn. I just figured...”

“That he had a type?” Fia asked.

Denver looked abashed. “Sort of.”

“I expect everybody has a lot of questions. And the real reason that I showed up like this, and indulged Landry and his sense of theater, is that I want to make use of you-all as part of the gossip chain. Tell everybody so we don’t have to.”

Landry laughed. “Hell, yeah. There’s so many of you, spread the word.”

“This is quite the small-town scandal,” said Daughtry. “And you told us not to say anything about Lila yet.”

“I know. Because I hadn’t talked to Fia. And listen, our business about the whole thing is our business. Not yours. But feel free to make the rumors real colorful.”

“ Nonsensical even,” said Fia. “Everybody will mutter at each other behind their hands and we won’t have to put up with it.”

“And once it all blows over,” Landry said, “maybe you can think about going to school at the one-room schoolhouse. We need the drama to pass.”

“Wow,” said Lila. “So this is like a small-town scandal ? Are we a scandal ?”

“Oh yeah,” said Denver. “It’s a big one. Because Landry and Fia hate each other. And pretty much always have. At least, that’s what we all thought.”

“You didn’t have a theory on why that was?” Fia asked.

Denver shrugged. “Not really. My brother is off-putting. We all are. We’re kind of used to people just disliking us because they do. I figured it was that.”

“Really?” Fia asked, looking genuinely confused. “My sisters had been convinced the entire time that Landry and I...” She glanced at Lila. “Well, that we were secretly a couple .”

“I guess they were closer to the truth than we were,” said Justice.

Daughtry snorted. “I knew about you.”

“ Did you?” Landry asked.

“Yeah. I saw you kissing her years ago. Out at the cabin. I was trying to bring a girl there. And you were already there. Son of a bitch.”

Lila looked slightly harmed by that information. Fair enough. Landry was harmed by the thought that his brother had seen them.

“Okay,” said Landry. “Enough about my personal stuff in front of my kid, please.”

“Hey,” said Denver. “You brought the personal stuff to the King family. You get what you get.”

And that, he figured, was mostly true.

“My mistake,” he said dryly. “Really.”

But after that, they all went into the dining room, which was already laden with potato salad, rolls and green salad. There were baked beans and pigs in a blanket, and his brothers set meat platters down next to all of it.

This was normal for them. A typical family get-together. They were functional. That was the thing he kept coming back to. They had made a functional family, even without the model of one. He wanted to use that evidence to tell himself that Fia was wrong.

To tell himself that he had been right, and they could’ve all rallied together and raised Lila.

But the truth was, his father had still been around them. And the thought of his father getting any of his poison near Lila, it made him want to kill the man.

It made him feel kinship to Angus McCloud, who, it had been rumored for a great many years, had in fact killed his father.

And no one would blame him.

So maybe the circumstances had been wrong. But he had offered to run away with her. But then... What would’ve become of the Sullivan sisters? Because just a couple years later their parents had busted up and then Fia had spent all that time taking care of her sisters while their mother had checked out. He had observed that even though he’d been distant from her at the time.

And maybe he’d even enjoyed her pain a little bit back then.

Because his pain had been the only pain that mattered.

And the real issue now, looking around the table, looking at all these people who he loved dearly, was that while he admitted that he wouldn’t have actually been a good father at seventeen, it made him question whether or not he could be a good one now.

As Fia had said to him, he had really looked at himself as a thirty-year-old, and had said that he could’ve done this when he was seventeen.

As if he hadn’t learned a damn thing. About how hard life was. And if nothing else, he should at least be able to look back on how fragile he’d been as a teenager, and tried to imagine what he might’ve done with the child.

There was something about being in this house with Fia, which was something he had never done then, that made him face the impossibility of it.

He felt broken. Broken by the realization, broken by the feelings that were pouring through him now.

Daniel and Lila were bantering, and he looked at his sister, Arizona. She had been in love with Micah when she was seventeen. He had only really heard that whole story later. She’d fallen in love with an older man, and when he’d left, her heart had broken. He’d come back years later with a teenage son, and they had found their way back to each other.

She’d been on ice since then. Ferociously, fiercely angry. Arizona had been the kind of person who wore her anger on her sleeve. She had a reputation for being unpleasant in a way that Landry didn’t.

But they were the same. He’d been hurt, and rather than looking at any of the rational reasons why something might have happened, he’d let it all fester. Let it turn to hatred. He would let it keep him frozen in the exact same spot he’d been in back then.

He’d let it keep him from being there for Fia. And he’d been angry at her all that time for not loving him enough. But how the hell had he shown that he loved her? He had chosen a fantasy over her.

He hadn’t realized that then. He’d been desperate for her to have the baby in part because he wanted to keep her with him. He had felt like her giving the baby away had meant that he was giving them away too.

He was a fucking idiot. He could’ve been there for her. He could’ve listened to her. But instead, he listened only to himself.

He was his fucking dad.

And that was a hell of a thing.

Had his dad not realized the kinds of things that he did? Had he not known that everything he did was a narcissistic maelstrom? Because Landry hadn’t known. He felt justified. He’d felt like his reasoning was valid.

He’d felt like everything was sensible when it had come from inside of him. And now he was on the outside of his body, watching this family dinner. Looking at Fia next to Lila, and realizing how wrong he’d been to not tell Fia from the beginning.

But his hurt and anguish had been piled in front of anything reasonable. He had been indulging it. He’d been indulging himself.

After dinner, there was pie, but he didn’t taste it as he chewed and swallowed.

Daniel and Lila went off to play video games in the next room. And Daughtry kicked back in his chair, looking over at Landry and Fia. “So. You guys are...”

“Co-parenting,” said Fia, crisp and precise.

“Right.”

“Yep,” said Landry. “We’re co-parenting. Because that’s just how we are. Mature.”

“Copacetic,” said Fia.

“A vibe,” said Landry, smiling. “I learned that from Lila.”

“I like it,” said Fia.

“Okay then,” said Daughtry. “And that’s really all you’re ever going to tell us.”

“Play your cards right, and get me drunk enough and maybe you’ll hear the story,” said Fia. “But until then, we have a lot of things left to figure out.”

“On that note,” said Landry, looking at Fia. “Why don’t we go outside and have a drink.”

“I got some good stuff,” said Denver.

He pulled down their famous apple pie moonshine. It was dangerous, because it tasted just like apple pie. It did not taste like what it was. Which was a very, very high proof clear alcohol that they brewed themselves.

It had caused a couple of brawls over the years, in fact.

He poured Fia a measure over ice. And some for him as well.

Then they went outside to the back porch. It was screened then, overlooking one of their larger pastures. They were close to their cows, and Landry had always liked it that way.

Some days he liked cows better than he liked people, if he were honest.

It was hard not to.

And some people would never understand the dichotomy of loving those animals, and raising them for meat. But it was in his blood. The care and keeping of the food they ate. Making sure that they were given good lives. That they were respected for what they gave in return.

Nobody loved cows more than the Kings.

“What is it?” Fia asked, taking a sniff of the liquid in her glass.

“It tastes like pie,” he said.

She looked at him skeptically, then took a sip. “Well. It does. It doesn’t even taste like booze.”

“It is booze. Be careful. What I poured you should be all right, but it’s a whole thing.” He was silent for a long moment. “I was wrong, Fia.” He turned to her. “Just about everything. I have gone out of my way to never think about this in a more mature way because if I did, then it was going to mean that all the hurt that I felt over all these years was unreasonable. That I was the one... That I was the one who took a bad situation, a difficult situation, and made it damn near impossible. But I have to face the fact that I was. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She looked down into her glass. “Is this stronger than I think it is, or are you actually apologizing to me?”

“It’s what you said,” he said. “About the fact that Lila doesn’t regret the adoption. I wanted to believe... I needed to believe that I could be enough. That I could love a kid in a way that my father couldn’t. I needed to believe that the baby would keep you with me.” He paused for a long moment. “A lot of it was about keeping you with me, Fia. I told you, I was a mess. And I was being serious when I said...” His throat worked. “I was struggling. Sometimes I had thoughts. About ending it.”

He could see the words hit her hard. Life had been bleak here. It really had. They were a pack of feral kids with parents who ran the gamut from cruel to indifferent. That they’d all made it this far was probably a miracle.

But he’d never confessed that to anyone.

“And I... I’m not using it as an excuse,” he continued. “But loving you was the thing that made me enjoy my life. Loving you was what got me through being Elias King’s personal experiment. You know he loved it when I felt like things were precarious. Like I had to do something to earn his love, and then he liked to withhold it. Dangle it in front of me. You never did. I was just really afraid to lose it. I was happy when I found out that you were pregnant, because I thought it meant you had to stay with me. And fucking hell, if I could go back and tell that scared, stupid little idiot one thing it would be he didn’t love you like he thought. Because I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and counted on that to keep you with me. Not a baby.” He dragged his hand over his face. “I realize that the way I’ve treated you is closer to my father than I ever wanted to be. Bringing Lila back... I did want to hurt you, you’re right. And I twisted the truth of it all to tell myself I didn’t.” He paused. “But I did. Because I hurt, and I wanted you to hurt along with me.”

It was honest. Not in a mean or spiteful way, but he could see it hurt her all the same.

“When we were young, we were so angry,” she said softly. “We were never honest. If we came close to it, it was always really just us being spiteful. I feel for you. But I can’t feel more for you than I do myself. Not about this. Not when my own memories are so clear. So painful. But you...you gave me honesty and I owe you the same. Not to hurt you, but to make you understand.”

She took a sharp breath and continued. “Landry, I realize that you aren’t lying to me about how much it hurt you that you didn’t have Lila. I do realize that. I also... It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. The only way I could survive it was building a wall between us. It was so hard. To need you like that. We were...each other’s safe place for a long time. I know, I know we hurt each other too, but we were still able to share more with each other than we did anywhere else. And I had to cut you off. To save myself. I had to build that wall.”

She swallowed. “It’s been weird to not have it there. It’s been weird to be around you again. We spent all these years denying the truth. I get it. I get why you couldn’t look at this differently. Because for me it feels a lot the same. I never imagined Lila at thirteen. I still imagined her as the little strawberry-haired baby that I held for just a minute. Because it’s like I had to leave it back there. And even though I loved her, even though I carried it with me all this time, I didn’t... I couldn’t really think about the passage of time. And I really could never bear to look back on all of it. I accepted the lie that we made up, the one we told everyone without even talking about it. That nothing ever happened between us. That we just didn’t get along, and I even kind of played into my sister’s idea that I just wanted to...jump you.”

He laughed, even though it was forced through a throat that felt like it was lined with broken glass.

“Yeah. Well. That was a simpler story, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“So here we are. And here this is. You and me and Lila. The secret that we carried all this time.”

She looked at him and hesitated. Then she reached out and put her hand flat on his chest. It was the first time in thirteen years that Fia Sullivan had touched him, and it was like making contact with a live wire. He didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself to move. “I am sorry about all the pain we both felt all this time.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hand over hers and holding it there. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry that I was sixteen and stupid. I’m sorry I didn’t use a condom. I’m sorry that I loved you like it was a crash test and I was the dummy. I’m sorry for all the stupid shit that ever came out of my mouth.”

“Me too. It wasn’t just you. You weren’t alone in that. Landry, that alone would’ve left us both scarred. The way that we were... It wasn’t...”

She didn’t have to finish. He knew. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy.

It wasn’t common.

They’d had a real, scarring, tragic kind of love. A real Romeo and Juliet kind of thing. And for a while there, it felt like that. Like drinking poison.

He would have.

And that boy could never have been a father. What had he learned since then? What had he done? They were still holding each other’s hands, pressed to his chest when he moved even closer. “I don’t know if I’m going to be any better at this now.”

“I don’t know if I am either. I taught her to crochet today.” Fia looked down at their hands. “I asked her about the things she used to do with her parents. I wasn’t sure what to say half the time.”

“I’m not either.”

He felt connected to Fia now, like he hadn’t for a long time. He searched her face and tried to see if she was less certain than she’d been at first, if like him she felt wrong somehow. He knew he wanted Lila in his life, but he’d been grappling with his feelings of inadequacy and what that meant for the feelings he’d had back then.

He doubted himself.

He wondered if Fia did.

“She said she just needs somebody to be there for her,” Fia said softly. “We’re somebody.”

“Yeah,” he said, his heart going tight. “We are.”

Fia moved away from him, disconnecting their hold. “I’d like to have her spend the night.”

For some reason, internally, he rejected it. But he didn’t reject it out loud. “Of course. Anytime.”

He hesitated. “Let’s... I don’t know what all we’re going to have to do to get you involved in the adoption process. But I assume that you want to legally adopt her also.”

“Yes,” she said. “I do.”

“I’ll find out. I’ll call the caseworker tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s... Let’s hold off on her spending the night.”

“Why?” she asked.

“It’s just all new and different. I swear I’m not... I’m not...”

“You’re just worried,” she said.

“Yeah, I know it doesn’t really make any sense. But she’s had a lot of changes.”

He could see that she was resentful. Resentful that he was in the position that he was the one who knew Lila best at this point. The one who was in charge of making this call.

And he thought about saying something different. He thought about reversing what he’d decreed.

But he had just walked back a whole lot of things. And he wasn’t quite ready to deal with this.

“All right,” she said. “Can she spend the day with me again tomorrow? I’d like to take her to the farm store. And I would like for her to meet my sisters.”

“Yeah. Can I... Can I come for dinner?”

She took another sip of the apple pie. “Yeah. Why don’t you come for dinner?”

Right then, as dumb as it was, he felt a little bit like he had a date with Fia Sullivan.