17. JW

SEVENTEEN

JW

"Hey, Fletch," I answer on the first ring. We've been calling and texting back and forth; I update him, he updates me. Fletch calling early in the morning is leading me to believe he's got some news and it's not going to be good.

"Hey, JW, you got a few minutes?" I've just pulled up to the barn when his call came through. I've been keeping my phone glued to my side when I'm not around Maeve. My family has rallied, helping keep a close eye on her without being too obvious. Today, Tully is stopping by to spend time with Maeve, and knowing my sister-in-law, she'll rally the rest of the group to hang out as well. My next call after talking to Fletch will be to Maeve's dad, James Oliver. He needs to know what's happening, and while I know the Oliver sisters are well aware of what's going on, I don't think they really get how fucking wild this shit is getting.

"Yep, got nothing but time." I take him off Bluetooth and connect to my phone, bringing it to my ear. Depending on what he has to say, I'll know how I'm spending my day.

"That's good because this is going to be a long game. Delilah and I are coming into town the end of the week. I'll call Lawson to tell him after we hang up, but first things first." Law and Juni haven't been down to Georgia in a bit, and Fletch and Delilah haven't been here for a while. My oldest brother and Fletcher talk on the phone as much as Birdie and Tully do, which is every damn day, a couple of times a day.

"Alright, we'll be happy to have you. Though I've got a feeling this won't be only a social visit."

"Not at all. My IT guy did his job, ran all kinds of shit that's goes over my head while making it spin. Does the name Clayton Smith ring a bell?" Fletcher asks.

"Not that I'm aware. He the guy who's been hacking into her website, saying her site is closed, and leaving all the reviews?" I ask.

"Yeah, his rap sheet is a mile long. I'd rather you not ask Maeve, let her know as little as possible. I'm going down there to do some recon. Smith has outstanding warrants in Georgia, Wyoming, Oklahoma, and California. Anyways, the captain is sending me your way since I've worked with Arrowleaf PD before and I've got family there. With the chief sending me and her dad being the chief and all, Delilah caught wind and demanded she come along." Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Fletch isn't expanding on the reason for warrants, and there's a damn reason for it, too. One I'm not going to like. This isn't one of those times Fletch is going to keep me informed either.

"Do I need to keep a closer eye on Mae? Right now, family is rotating at the shop, hers and mine."

"If it were Delilah, fuck yeah. The only problem with that is she's not dumb, can sniff out the smallest lie even when it's to protect her. Alarms on, keys in her hands, head on a swivel is what I'd suggest." Damn, he's asking for the impossible. Maeve is the epitome of soft, sweet, and innocent. She thinks nothing of what's going on. When she showed me what was happening, it wasn't with fear for her well-being. It was fear over losing her business. Mae was put on this earth to bring happiness, not darkness.

"I'll see what I can do. Look forward to seeing you even though it's not under better circumstances. And in case I haven't said it, thanks for looking out. Appreciate it."

"Never a problem. I'll give you a shout when we land." Fletch and I hang up. I fling my phone into the cup holder, wipe my hand down my face, and try to come up with a plan of action. Maeve isn't going to take this lying down; I'm going to have to do some damn quick thinking .

"Damn, boy, you been on the phone for the last thirty minutes, and now you look like you're about ready to come out swinging." Dad opens the door, slides into the passenger seat, and closes it. He knows all of us well enough. We're a lot like him with Mom added into the mix.

"Yeah, well, if you had some psycho whack job after mom, I think you'd feel the same way."

"You'd be right about that. I think it's time you take some time off. It's been what, two years since you've left the ranch for more than two nights?" Dad states the obvious. He's one to talk. None of us take a vacation at any given time. There's always work to be done at the ranch. And when we do get time away, it's a couple of nights here or there. Usually, it's surrounding work of some kind, going to the auctions, a class on whatever any of us need, or selling cattle.

"After this shit is settled, Maeve and I will be doing exactly that." Even if it's to the cabin in the far-off corner of the property.

"Don't wait too long, son." I look at my old man. He's slowing down here lately, letting us take more of the load off his plate. Don't get me wrong, he'll still put us in our place. Sometimes he'll even try to show us up. "What? I'm just saying I've been in a similar situation. Except I was already married to your momma."

My expression must say more than my words ever could. "Why do you think the cabin stays clean and stocked? When Ry doesn't need a sitter, your mom and I have no problem getting away for a while. Do the same. Burnout is real. From what you've said and what I'm hearing, Maeve sure could use some time away." Dad doesn't bother waiting for a response. He exits the truck, leaving me with more questions and no answers. Figures. Mom will talk, Dad will state facts, and then leave. I grab my phone, ready to call Mae, but I think better of it. No amount of demanding she come to the ranch will work. Instead, I shoot her a text.

Me: You get to the store alright?

Mae: Yep, I'm here. The lights are on, and the doors are locked. I even have the alarm on.

Me: Thank fuck.

Mae: Yeah, well, between you and Dad, this place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Which we're going to have words about later.

I chuckle. It seems Mr. Oliver already called her before I could give my woman a heads-up. Now she's going to cuss me up and down. Mae has a sharp tongue, and she knows how to use it.

Me: It'll be hard to have words with your mouth wrapped around my cock.

Mae: JW!

Mae: Fine. I know how to talk while you use your mouth to apologize. I'll just sit on your face.

Me: Game fucking on. Tonight, at my house. Be prepared.

Mae: Promise?

Me: That's a guaran-fucking-tee.

Our messages taper off. She's probably starting her day, and I need to do the same damn thing. A ranch never sleeps. Others have been picking up where I've slacked off. Hopefully, after Fletch does his thing, shit will settle down, life will return to normal, and Maeve won't have to worry about a single fucking thing.