Thirty-Seven

Saturday, February 17, 2024

Stone spent the next morning walking onair. His thoughts drifted back to last night over and over, the movie reel in his head on repeat. His connection with Nico solidifying, punctuated by that moment when it had been hard to breathe because he was consumed by a love so intense, it threatened to steal the air from his lungs. Stevie returning to find them crumpled in the bed together, drawing out the moment when she settled between them, content to simply be for a little while.

And when morning came, Stone felt like he could conquer the world.

Unfortunately, the feeling only lasted until mid-afternoon, when he was getting ready to head out to run a few errands. As he was walking out the door, his cell phone rang.

He dragged it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

"Hey, Uncle Curtis," he greeted, unable to hide his good mood. "I was about to call you. Thought maybe I could swing by in an hour. I've got the proposal ready for your review."

"So you've talked to Zane?"

Stone hedged momentarily, trying to figure out the correct answer to the question. He opted to be straightforward. "No, actually. I've tried numerous times. He won't return my calls."

Curtis's heavy sigh felt weighted even through the phone.

Stone stood outside his truck, staring up at the brilliant blue sky. "What's wrong?"

"I had a feelin' he wasn't tellin' me everything."

"What does that mean? Who?"

"Zane." Curtis sighed again.

"Is he there? I can come by right now and talk to him."

"No. I haven't seen him in a coupla days. The boy texted me."

"Do you know where he is?" At this point, Stone was willing to track him down if it took all fucking day.

"I don't. He did mention he's meetin' Beau at Moonshiners in a coupla hours."

Stone swallowed because he could hear what his uncle wasn't telling him. Zane was the lone holdout. More than likely, his brothers had shared what was going on with him, but he wasn't as open to the idea as the rest of them.

"I can still come by the house," Stone said.

"Stone, I think—"

"I'll talk to Zane," he inserted, refusing to let Curtis shut this down because Zane was being stubborn.

It was one thing for Zane to reject the plan, but since he hadn't heard it for himself, he didn't get to do that. Not yet.

"I'll head over to Moonshiners in a little while," Stone continued. "And I'll call you after. Let you know how it went."

A grunt was his uncle's response.

"I'll talk to you in a bit," Stone told him, disconnecting the call before Curtis could say anything more.

Two hours later, Stone walked into Moonshiners. The lightness he'd felt after last night had dissipated in the face of anxiety. He could feel his opportunity slipping away, and he wasn't even privy to the reason. That was what irked him the most. Almost anytime there'd been a big issue in his life, he could chalk it up to someone—himself included—being too damn stubborn to talk about it.

It was time to rectify that with Zane.

Stone skimmed the dim interior of the bar, searching all the familiar faces and the ones he didn't recognize until he landed on Zane. His cousin was sitting in one of the booths along the side wall, his back to the door. Aside from the beer sitting on the table before him, he was alone.

Not anymore.

Stone took the opportunity to grab a beer at the bar before he walked over.

"Mind if I sit?" he prompted, not waiting for Zane to answer before he slid into the booth.

His cousin's expression remained pleasantly neutral.

"It's been a minute," Stone told him. "How're you doin'?"

"Good. You?" Zane's tone was remarkably dry. Not an ounce of emotion in it.

This was how they were going to play it? Their words cordial, but the underlying frustration simmering like a live wire? No thank you.

"I talked to your dad earlier," Stone explained. "He mentioned you'd be here."

Zane nodded, tilting his beer to his lips. "Congrats. You found me."

"It took me a while."

"You get lost or what?"

Stone heard the animosity but couldn't understand where it was coming from. For the past few days, he'd spent too much time trying to figure out Zane's motivation. No matter how far back he went in his memories, he couldn't recall anything happening that would've triggered anyone to ghost him the way Zane was. Well, maybe Stevie or Nico, but he was directly responsible for what happened between them.

As much as he wanted to pretend it was merely timing that had prevented this conversation from taking place, Stone wasn't in the mood for games. So, he got right to the heart of the matter.

"You've been avoidin' me."

Zane set his beer on the table. "Not really. I just didn't have anything to say to you."

"I don't need you to say anything," Stone countered, trying to keep his frustration from slipping out of his mouth and into his words. "But I'd appreciate you listening."

"Not interested," Zane blurted.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Zane's eyebrows slammed down, his blue-gray eyes glittering with unleashed anger. "You. You're my fuckin' problem, Stone."

Stone usually expected some sort of weather warning before a tornado like that one blew through. Still, he held his ground. "What the hell did I do?"

Zane snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Tell me," Stone insisted.

Zane leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You want the whole list? Or just the highlights?"

"I want the fuckin' truth," Stone snapped back. "That'd be a good start."

"Why don't we start with how you blew outta town without a fuckin' word."

Stone was shocked by the adamance in his cousin's tone. "Without a fuckin' word to who?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your mom. My mom."

Stone frowned. "What're you talkin' about?"

"Don't play dumb, Stone. It's beneath you."

"I have no fuckin' idea what you're talkin' about."

"Of course you don't because you rewrote history to suit your objective."

Stone set down his beer, staring at Zane, trying to figure out who the fuck ushered him through a door into an alternate universe because seriously? Assuming Zane was referring to when Stone left fifteen years ago, he thought back to the conversation he'd had with his parents before he left. He'd sat down with them and explained what he wanted to do. No, he didn't tell them his full reasons for wanting to leave or what happened between him, Stevie, and Nico, but he did sit down with them. His mother had been upset but understanding. His father had been supportive, reminding him he always had a place to come back to when he was ready.

"So why're you back, Stone? You hear through the grapevine that my parents were lookin' to do somethin' with their land? You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to swoop in? Think this'll be your big break?"

His knee-jerk reaction would've been to tell Zane to go fuck himself. However, Stone knew that wasn't the right thing to do. Stevie was right when she said Zane was as laid-back as they came, so his animosity was out of left field. He obviously had a reason.

"I didn't go to them about the land," he explained, trying to keep his tone calm. "They called me."

"Oh, I know. But you jumped right on it, didn't you?"

Stone frowned, opting for complete honesty. "You're damn right I did. But I'm not expectin' a fuckin' handout. I'm puttin' in the work."

"Sure you are." Zane sucked down the rest of his beer. "Then what? How long will it be before you get bored and leave again?"

"Bored? Is that why you think I left?"

"And hopped from job to job," Zane tacked on. "I've heard my mother talkin' over the years. They call you the wanderer. Always movin' from place to place. Incapable of stayin' put. How long will it last this time? A month? A year? Two?"

"What the fuck do you care?" Stone retorted.

"Because that land belongs to my family. Not yours."

Ouch.

Stone exhaled, the wind successfully knocked out of him. "I didn't realize we came from two different ones, Zane."

For the first time, he saw a hint of remorse in Zane's eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't." Stone sighed. "But it doesn't matter to you, does it? You've made up your mind. I'm not a Walker; therefore, I'm just an outsider. Never mind that my family's been here as long as yours." Stone squared his shoulders, lowered his voice, and pinned Zane with a stare. "And never mind that you're just as much a Jameson as you are a fuckin' Walker. Or did you forget that part? That your mom is my dad's sister."

Zane's lips pursed, his anger simmering once again. At least it'd come down from a full boil. Problem was, Stone knew there was nothing he could say or do to convince his cousin that his anger was misplaced. If there was anyone more stubborn than a Jameson, it was a Walker.

Stone shifted to the end of the seat, prepared to walk away. "Thanks for nothin', Zane."

He made it several steps before Zane called out, "Wait."

He pivoted, hating himself for hanging on to that single thread of hope that his cousin would somehow recognize he was being a royal douche.

"I'll hear you out," Zane told him, staring at his beer bottle. "But first, I wanna call your previous employer. If they give you a good reference, I'll listen to what you have to say."

Stone rolled his eyes. No way in hell Doug Johnson was going to say anything nice about him. Not after the way things went down. But he figured Zane already knew that. The rumor mill worked fast in this small town. More than likely, Zane had heard the story already.

Since he had nothing left to lose, Stone decided to let it play out.

"Fine." He pulled out his phone and sent the contact information to Zane's phone. "That's the number. Talk to anyone you want."

With that, he turned and walked out.

***

Curtis was sitting on the front porchwhen Zane's truck pulled down his driveway. He didn't need to talk to the boy to know he was still in a foul mood. He could tell by the way he slammed on the brakes and jumped out that whatever happened between him and Stone hadn't resolved a damn thing.

As astute as he was, though, Curtis had no idea why Zane was hellbent on shutting Stone out. For the past week, he'd listened to one or more of his boys talk excitedly about Stone's plans for the land. They were genuinely looking forward to this farmers' market idea. Everyone except Zane, who'd made his feelings known from the moment he learned that they were planning to part with the land.

"Hey, Pop," Zane grumbled as he stomped up the front steps.

Curtis watched him, silently feeling him out. He knew it was only a matter of time before his pent-up anger spewed out.

"I talked to Stone," Zane said as he flopped into the chair beside him.

"And?"

"I told him I won't support it."

"It?"

Zane waved a hand. "His plan."

"Which is?"

Zane shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's not a good idea."

"Your brothers think it is."

"Yeah, well. They don't know Stone like I do."

Curtis couldn't keep the wry smile from forming. "And just how well do you know him? He's been gone for fifteen years."

"Exactly." Zane's eyebrows slammed down. "He's not back because he wants to be here. He's back because he has nowhere else to go. I'm not lettin' him leave us holdin' the bag when he slinks outta here again."

"Did he say he was leavin'?"

"It's a given, ain't it? If he wanted to be here, he would've come back a long time ago. Instead, he was out there screwin' up, tryin' to get somethin' for nothin'. It backfired, and now he's crawlin' back lookin' for a handout." Zane shook his head. "Not happenin', Pop. The land belongs to the Walkers. He's not a Walker."

Curtis's shoulders stiffened. "He's a Jameson."

Zane stared out into the distance. "Exactly. Not a Walker."

"Your mama's a Jameson."

"Used to be," Zane corrected. "Not anymore."

Curtis snorted a laugh. "You probably shouldn't let her hear you say that."

Zane's gaze cut to him. "Why? It's true. She's been a Walker far longer than she was a Jameson."

He let out a booming laugh. "You honestly believe that, don't you?" He glared at his boy. "Because she took my name, you think she disowned her family?"

Zane stared.

"If you think that's how it works, son, you haven't been payin' attention for the past thirty-four years." Before Zane could argue, Curtis continued. "Your mama took my name, but she's still got five sisters and three brothers."

"Two sisters," Zane corrected.

"Five," Curtis insisted.

"Adele, Celeste, and Katherine are dead, Pop."

"So when I'm gone, you gonna use that little eraser of yours and get rid of me too?"

"Of course not," he snapped.

Curtis raised his eyebrows, waiting for his boy to see how unreasonable he was being. He knew Zane was smarter than that. The problem was he was holding a grudge for a reason, and Curtis suspected it had nothing to do with this ridiculous notion that they were somehow the Hatfields and McCoys. There might've been some animosity between the two families at one point, but that sat squarely on his old man's shoulders. Frank Walker, Sr, hadn't liked anyone and never cared who knew it. Toss Lorrie's father, Phillip Jameson, into the pot, and the two mix like oil and water.

But the feud the Walkers had with this town ended when his old man died. Curtis had spent the better part of his adult life trying to make things right.

"What's really goin' on here, Zane?"

Zane sighed, once again staring out into the distance.

Curtis didn't urge him to answer. He knew he would eventually. Until then, he sipped his coffee and listened to the birds chirping.

"He left, Pop. And he hurt a lotta people when he did."

"Like who?"

"Aunt Deborah, Uncle Owen. Donovan, Reilly, CJ, Chelsea." He paused. "Mom."

"They missed him. Rightfully so. But he made a life for himself."

"Then why's he back?"

"It was time."

"Time for what? To swoop in because there's an opportunity to be had?" Zane huffed again. "How long until he leaves again? Makes Mom and Aunt Deborah cry all over again."

"Why would they cry?"

"They cried the last time."

Curtis chuckled. "Your mama cried last week because some ol' boy died on that TV show she likes. She does that."

"That's different."

"Maybe." Curtis shifted so he could look at Zane. "Stone didn't come back because there was an opportunity. He came back because this is where he belongs."

"And because he's gettin' a handout."

"You think that's what this is? A handout?"

"Yeah, Pop. I do. He's not gonna work for it."

"Why not?"

"He's not reliable."

"Is that somethin' you learned firsthand or another of your many assumptions?"

Zane's cheeks darkened, his anger bubbling up. "I called the Double J Ranch, Pop, so yeah, I know firsthand. They said he up and disappeared on them. Slipped out in the middle of the night."

"Who said?"

"The owner."

"Doug?"

Zane shook his head. "The daughter. Leah. She said Stone's unreliable."

"She happen to mention she wanted to marry him, and he wasn't interested?"

"Marry him?" Zane's shock was obvious. "What?"

"You might wanna talk to Stone a little more. Maybe get both sides of the story first."

Zane huffed and shot to his feet. "It doesn't matter, Pop. My answer's no, and it ain't gonna change."

Curtis didn't try to stop him when he stormed off. He knew his boy. Whatever this was really about would come to light soon enough.

Fifteen minutes later, Curtis strolled into the house.

"Smells good in here. Whatcha makin'?"

"Brownies."

Oh, man. His wife knew that brownies were his favorite. Especially when she made them.

"I heard you two out there," Lorrie said softly as he rinsed his coffee mug in the sink and tucked it into the dishwasher.

"How much of it?" He hoped she hadn't heard the part about—

"I'm still a Jameson," she acknowledged.

Curtis smiled. His beautiful bride's eyesight might be showing the effects of age but not her hearing.

"I told him as much." He leaned against the counter and dried his hands with the towel. "He's usin' this us against them mentality as an excuse."

"I know it."

He set the towel on the counter. "Do you also know what's really botherin' him?"

Lorrie looked up, her pretty blue eyes shining with sadness. "Zane always thought Stone and CJ hung the moon."

Curtis gripped the counter, watching her work.

"When they were kids, he followed those boys everywhere."

Maybe he was getting old because he didn't remember that. "They're older than he is."

"Not by much. And not enough that he didn't hang around with 'em when he could."

Since Owen was the youngest of her siblings, Lorrie had always been protective of her baby brother. Because of that, they spent more time with Owen and Deborah than they did with the rest of the Jameson clan, but back in the day, the kids had been close—all of them. It had more to do with living in a small town than their families being tight-knit, though.

"You think that's what this is?" he asked his wife. "Or you think he wants the land and just didn't tell us?"

Lorrie shook her head. "Not that. I asked him if he wanted it. He said no."

"Maybe he lied."

"I don't think so. He's happy at the resort. He gets to work with V every day. I don't think he'd trade it for anything."

That was the impression Curtis had been under, too. And he'd tried to convince the boys the land would be good for a lot of things. None of them wanted it, though. That was the reason they'd offered it to Stone. He knew the boy would do right by it.

It hadn't been an easy decision either. Especially since they knew Donovan was looking to buy more land in town to build more houses. As much as Curtis wanted to support the boy, he didn't want to see Coyote Ridge turn into a housing community like the ones popping up all around them. They had set aside another tract on the outskirts that he intended to give Donovan, but he was holding onto it so he could give it as a wedding present when the time came.

Lorrie's soft hand pressed gently to his chest, pulling him out of his thoughts. He peered down at her.

"It's gonna work itself out. I promise."

"I know, darlin'. I just wish I could do somethin' to move it along."

"How about some brownies and milk in the meantime?"

He smiled at his beautiful bride of sixty years. "I'm thinkin' maybe I should whisk you off to the bedroom while they cool down."

Her smile lit up her face. "I wouldn't say no to a nap."

He chuckled. "Honey, I don't plan to let you sleep."

"You never do."