Page 74 of Finding Peace
The snow’s half-melted into gray slush along the roads; everyone is rude and cranky—desperate for it to warm up—and the air carries that damp bite that clings to everything.
And yet…
Here we are.
Again.
“Still think one of us could fake a stomach bug,” Jasper says from the kitchen as he adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket.
“It’s too late now, Jas,” Lincoln replies dryly, swirling the whiskey glass in his hands. “Plus, she’s already upstairs getting ready.”
“But—”
“You arecontractually obligatedto attend this,” Lincoln adds. “Which means you are going. End of.”
Jasper mutters something under his breath about Lincoln suddenly being the bossy one while Beau, who looks entirely too happy about tonight, knocks back the rest of his whiskey. “Relax. It’s one night. We shake some hands, kiss some babies, throw money at wildlife conservation, and go home.”
“We’re not kissing any babies,” I mutter.
“Did you know what I meant? Then don’t be an asshole.” He looks back at Jasper. “Just be lucky we’re all going with you.”
I lean back against the wall and study the three of them.
Lincoln looks like he was born in a suit.Fitting since he’s a lawyer and everything.It’s a dark charcoal today. Tailored within an inch of its life. Crisp white shirt underneath. No tie, though—just the top button undone like he’s reminding the world he’s still a rancher, not just a lawyer. Be that as it may, the lines of his suit are crisp and clean… Just like the rest of him.
Jasper went all black. Because, of course, he did. Black suit. Black shirt—also sans tie. And a black Stetson. The only thing that’s not black is the silver chains around his throat.
Beau’s dressed in navy. There’s a slight pattern to the fabric if you look close enough, and his brown boots are polished within an inch of their life. He’s also smiling like it’s Christmas morning.
“What the hell is with the smile?” I ask him.
“Because,” he says simply, “Abigail’s goin’.”
Normally, Lincoln and I would be equally irritated about this whole ordeal. We’d go because it’s smart business to mingle with people who could help the ranch should we need it. We go because wildlife conservation funding helps when people who shouldn’t—people like Miles Keller—get grabby with landrights.
But this year?
This year, I think we were all more than eager to go.
And that’s because of the woman upstairs.
“She almost didn’t go,” I say, taking a slow sip of whiskey.
Lincoln’s eyes flick toward me.
“Wasn’t sure if she was going to feel better today,” I clarify. She’d been feeling sick the last couple of days. When I offered to drive her into town to go to the clinic, she assured me she was fine and that it was probably just a little stomach bug.
“Weird that none of us got it,” Beau adds.
I nod in agreement. But thankfully this morning, she’d looked loads better, and—despite my telling her she should stay home and get rest—she assured me she wanted to go. She probably knew I was going to use it as an excuse to stay home with her.
Beau sets his glass down. “You think she’s gonna be ready soon?”
Jas laughs. “Maybe if half of Montana’s dress inventory wasn’t upstairs, it wouldn’t have taken her so long.”
“That was your fault,” I remind Beau.
“It was a team effort. We wanted options.” He beams with pride as he nods toward Jasper.
