Chapter 16

16

Dixie Talley had always enjoyed the community dances. She expected tonight to be just as enjoyable. Especially since the Talleys weren’t catering this one. They’d catered the last two, and if it hadn’t been for her youngest four sisters pulling their weight, they wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. She had to hand it to Dylan and the rest—they were exceptionally hard workers.

But Dixie was worried about them.

Especially Dylan.

There was something eating at Dylan right now. And she didn’t think it had anything to do with the man she was supposedly “shacking up” with. Although that had been concerning enough. Right there one day, and then two hours later. “I’m going to move in with Fletcher and be his housekeeper and prove him wrong. Don’t worry, I can still work my hours here at the inn and diner since I am learning to be a real Talley and everything.”

And that was that. Her baby sister took a bag and a box of belongings…and moved in with Fletcher Tyler.

Dylan’s nemesis.

Dylan had run away. From the inn.

To be honest, Dixie half hoped Dylan was “shacking up” with that beautiful man. Dylan deserved someone to see her for who she was, away from the rest of the Talleys. Dixie suspected Dylan had been looking for a way to escape the inn even before finding the two dead men there—and through Fletcher, she’d found it.

“Where is your sister?” her father was asking Devaney behind her. In his demanding, angry, answer-me tone that drove Dixie insane. He knew better than to use it with her, Darcey, Dusty, or Daisy now—but he loved to use it with Dylan and the three younger. He’d tried it with Darcey once, and she’d nearly ripped his face off. That had been an interesting event to watch.

“Which one? I have seven, you know. Gasp. Surprise to me too,” Devaney said. That sister was the master of subtle sarcasm. Between Devaney’s utterly calm delivery of everything she said and Dylan’s sharp, off-the-wall wit, they were hilarious. And when Dylan and Devaney worked together against him, they were definitely something else. “Darcey is coming with Marin, Daisy is bringing Dahlia, and Dorie has a date who is bringing her. The one next to me is Dixie, I think you’ve met her before—she’s one of the ones you left on the doorstep. Ben and Dusty will be here if they aren’t off boinking each other somewhere yet again, and, well, I am not certain where Dylan is yet. I’m sure she’s around. She’s supposed to be here with Quade.”

“Who?”

Dixie bit back a curse. Everyone in the family was talking about Dylan right now. Dylan and Quade. Dylan and Fletcher. How had the man missed it? “Wake up, Arthur. Time to tune in.”

She never called him dad. She probably never would.

“Quade is Dylan’s boyfriend, Arthur,” her mother said, a chiding tone to her words. She was a nervous wreck most of the time, but there was often a spark of spirit there. Usually where one of her four younger daughters was concerned. “We have mentioned him before. He is one of the Hollywood actors the girls know.”

Mostly, she just made Dixie sad. When she thought about what her mother had gone through, it just made her sad. Her father made her angry—her mother made her sad.

“And he’s sniffing around Dylan? What about that Tyler she’s shacked up with now? Ben’s brother?”

“Her boss, Dad,” Devaney told him. “Fletcher is her boss. Maybe. He bet Dylan she couldn’t work a real job not related to being a Talley. For six months. Now she is proving she can. They are not shacked up, unfortunately.”

“Why does his opinion matter? She needs to be at the inn with the rest of you.”

“Because that’s most convenient for you?” Devaney asked mildly. Nothing ruffled that girl’s feathers, nothing. Or, at least, she didn’t let it show. “It’s not to Fletcher Dylan is proving anything. It’s to herself.”

Dixie definitely agreed with that. Dylan was just so confused right now.

“Why? What does she have to prove?”

“Think about it, Dad. Think about it. We were just plopped here into this different world and told, ‘Surprise, this is who you really are.’ It hasn’t exactly been easy for any of us. Especially Dylan. Which is mostly your fault, by the way.”

Well, Dixie agreed with her little sister there. She understood why too. She’d heard her father and how he treated Dylan. How he played on her vulnerabilities to force her to do what he wanted.

He didn’t do that to the other girls. Probably because Dylan was there between them so he couldn’t. She protected.

Well, Dixie was Dylan’s big sister. And that meant she protected. “You have manipulated her for so long Dylan needs space to figure out what kind of future she wants now. For herself. And you can’t stand that.”

“And she is doing that by living with one man and dating another? What will people think?” Her father’s hair was practically vibrating on end now.

“I really don’t think she cares what people think. Just, when she gets here, don’t argue with her tonight. Just tell her she looks nice, and then take your wife to the dance floor and enjoy yourselves without trying to micromanage the little sisters. Get off Dylan’s case for once. If you keep pushing her, she’s going to close you out of her life completely. And it will be your own fault. Something to consider.”

As if her words were the trigger, she caught sight of Dylan’s distinctive hair. And Fletcher’s. His was equally as distinctive, just a different color. Those two couldn’t help but stand out.

Dylan just always vibrated with life.

Dixie took the moment to study her sister and the man at her side. Fletcher looked good tonight. He was a physically very beautiful man. A far cry from the pale, freckled pimply kid he’d been when they’d been younger. He turned female heads now. No denying that.

And there was Dylan, who just drew eyes. The red dress was a good choice for her. It made Dylan look her age, for one thing. She’d done something to her wild curls, slicking down the sides a little. It definitely looked almost sophisticated. And she’d worn makeup. Dylan very rarely wore makeup at all. Dylan turned a little—Dixie got more of a profile view. That’s when it clicked. Marin.

Dylan resembled Marin physically far more than Dixie had realized. Marin looked more like her mother, but there were features that she shared with Dylan, probably more than anyone else in the family—including that particular shade of hair. Dylan was the petite, curly-haired version of their phenomenally beautiful cousin.

Fletcher was scowling down at her, but Dixie almost thought…

He looked good next to Dylan. Very good. How interesting.

His scowl deepened when Mateo Hauffman, the eldest brother who had recently moved back to Masterson, came up to Dylan. Mateo touched her on the arm. Dylan shot him a grin. Poor guy had a bit of a fascinated look on his face.

That was two guys her sister had sniffing around her tonight. She suspected Dylan didn’t realize it, either.

“She looks very nice,” Dixie said. “She’s beautiful.”

“All of my girls are beautiful girls. All of you,” Dixie’s mother said quietly. “She does look very pretty tonight.”

Dixie looked at her. Arthur had taken off to the counter to grab her mother some punch. After ordering Devaney to stay with her mother. How much of her sisters’ lives had been consumed with watching over their mother?

She knew Dylan’s had. Dylan still took care of Dahlia and Dorie especially. Mothered them more than their actual mother did. Dixie suspected Dylan was a bit parentified— no denying that. It wasn’t fair to Dylan at all.

Yes, Dixie hoped that girl was shacking up with that beautiful Tyler man. Dylan deserved to have a life of her own for once. And Fletcher was one of the best, most honorable men Dixie had ever known.

“You think she’s boinked him yet?” Devaney asked.

“Oh, I hope so. I really hope so. I think she deserves it, don’t you?”

Fletcher Tyler was the kind of man every woman deserved, after all. Good, kind, loving, hardworking, beautiful—a woman would be lucky to have him look at her just like he was looking at Dylan right now.

It warmed her insides to think about it.