Tate’s mouth firmed. “It’s a good thing it’s not up to you then, is it?”
Holly crossed her arms over her chest, turning to stare out the window.
Tate drove them to the store, letting Logan pick out his bike after they found a booster seat for the truck. Tate ignored Holly’s disapproval.
“Holly?” Logan’s face fell when she didn’t return his excitement.
Her expression softened as it always did where Logan was concerned. “It’s a nice bike.”
His excitement returned as they wheeled it toward the cash register. Tate ignored Holly’s holier-than-shit attitude as he paid for the purchases. He felt no guilt over how he and his brothers earned their money. If they didn’t purchase the weed from them, their customers would buy it off someone else. The money was better off in his wallet than the Hayes’s or the Coleman’s, and their clients damn sure were better off not smoking the weed they sold.
As they were going out the door, Tate saw Lyle Turner, the town drunk, coming in and throwing him a glare, which Tate forced himself to brush off. The case had been thrown out of court. If Lyle wanted to start a fight, he could do it with the store cameras on him. Tate wasn’t about to spend a night away from home with the sense of danger he had felt lately.
Tate loaded Logan’s bike into the bed of the truck and switched out the car seats before he climbed in. Logan fidgeted with excitement on the way to his grandmother’s house.
“How much longer are we going to have to stay with Mrs. Langley?” Holly asked.
“Just a few more days.” Tate took his eyes briefly off the road. “I figured you would prefer Mrs. Langley’s house over ours. It’s a hell of a lot bigger.”
“It’s not home.” Holly glanced away, avoiding his gaze.
“It won’t be much longer,” Tate promised as he pulled into the driveway.
Tate climbed out while Holly opened the back door to let Logan out. The anxious boy could hardly wait as Tate pulled his bike out of the truck.
He stayed and watched him for an hour until Dustin showed. Then Tate left them alone for some private time.
Logan and Dustin had developed a close relationship, but Tate noticed an expression of sadness appear in his brother’s eyes when he wasn’t aware someone was watching. His young, devil-may-care attitude hid the pain Samantha had left behind. Dustin had loved her. He had never discussed it with him or Greer, but both brothers felt Dustin’s pain.
Their father had warned them when they each turned sixteen that a Porter loves only once. He had often told them how he managed to catch their mother. He had loved her on first sight. Tate still remembered rolling his eyes when his father regaled them with his past. His mother had been engaged to Cash Adam’s father at the time.
“I knew she was meant for me the first time I set eyes on her.”
“She belonged to someone else,” Tate had reminded him.
His father had shrugged. “I knew Mattie would catch on to him cheating on her. Your momma ain’t nobody’s fool.”
“She caught him?” Greer had asked.
Their father had nodded, not trying to hide the triumph in his voice. “Kind of hard not to when he knocked up the town whore. Took me a year to talk her into going out with me, then another six months to get her in my bed.”
“Ew,” Dustin had groaned, covering his hands with his ears.
“Son, you won’t be thinking that in a few years when a pretty girl walks by you, sashaying a pretty ass in front of you.”
Tate and Greer had both laughed as their father had shot them a know-it-all grin.
“I wouldn’t laugh too hard if I were you two, either. I’m gonna give you the same warning my pa gave me: once a woman catches a Porter man’s heart, she never lets it go. My pa and each man before him only loved one woman.”
“Not in this day and time,” Tate had snickered.
He had shaken his head. “Porter men are different.”
“You really believe that?” Tate had asked in disbelief.
“I know that,” he had said in conviction. “I wouldn’t want to live without your ma.”
Tate had a feeling of forboding and quickly changed the subject. “Maybe it will skip our generation.”
“I hope not. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on what me and your ma have.”
“Didn’t Cash’s dad try to get her back?”
A familiar look that had always scared them shitless had come over his face, the same one that had been on his face when he had caught someone snooping around their property.
“He tried, hard.”
“What did you do?” Dustin had asked the question they all had wanted answered.
“I followed the rules my father gave me and the same one I keep telling you. A Porter always stands his ground. Don’t leave an enemy standing, and always keep what’s yours.”
All of them had stared at their father in awe.
“Don’t forget them rules,” he had ordered.
“We won’t.” Each of them had given their promise to their father.
“When I’m dead and gone, live and breathe them. Mark my words, no man or woman will stand a chance against you.”
Chapter 7
“Dammit.” Sutton stretched her aching back as she carried another box to place with the others the town church was picking up for their store. There wasn’t much left of Pap’s life, but she couldn’t bear to trash what there was. Maybe the items could find a new home with someone who would benefit from them.
She decided to finish the rest in the morning. Going to the kitchen, which she had spent the majority of the morning cleaning, she poured herself a glass of iced tea. Not hungry, she carried it outside and stood on the porch, enjoying the cool breeze and fresh air. At least the small house no longer smelled musty.
Sutton listened as the wind rustled the tree limbs. When she was younger, the sound would have frightened her. Now it only made her search the shadows of the woods, unafraid.
The years since then had taught her it wasn’t the things you couldn’t see, but the evil lurking right in front of your eyes that was the more deadly. To fear danger, you had to be afraid of dying, and Sutton wasn’t afraid of dying. She had courted it at one time until the medication that had been forced on her had given her mind a chance to heal. She realized then; if she was going to be forced to live this life, she was going to make it worthwhile.
Looking down at her watch, she went in to shower, dressing in a comfortable blue dress that fell just above her knees. She brushed out her hair then slid on her shoes before grabbing her purse and going outside. She didn’t have to look at the directions Cash had sent her. She had looked at them several times already.
She was nervous, not wanting to cause any conflict between the husband and wife. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she turned down the road toward their house. There weren’t any other houses down the dark road that practically ended at their front door.
Not giving herself time to change her mind, she got out of the car, picking up the gift she had brought, not wanting to take the chance she would forget it at the last minute.
At the door, Cash opened it before she could knock.
“Hi, Sutton.”
“Cash.” She returned his greeting, looking past him in search of Rachel.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Cash answered, giving her a gentle smile.
Sutton entered the cozy home, handing the bottle of wine to Cash.
“It needs to be chilled.”
“I’ll take care of it. Take a seat.”
Sutton sat down on the dark brown leather couch, perching on the end of the cushion.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“An iced tea, if you have it.”
“Be right back.” Cash disappeared as she stared around the home, taking in the pictures of Rachel and Cash that were sitting on the small end table next to the couch. The couple was obviously very much in love, and Sutton was happy for both of them.
Hearing a noise, she looked over her shoulder to see Rachel carrying a glass and Cash following behind his wife.
“Sutton, I’m glad you came.”
Sutton stared at Rachel, seeing she was telling the truth. Her warm greeting dispelled some of her nervousness.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the drink from Rachel.
Rachel sat down on the chair in front of the couch, and Cash sat down on the arm of the chair, his arm across the back. The closeness between the couple twisted a knife in her heart.
Taking a drink of her tea, she listened as Rachel thanked her again for the donation she was making to the church store.
“It’s really not a big deal.” Sutton shrugged. “I’m sure a lot of it would be better off in the trash, but I thought it would be easier for you to do than me.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage to use most of it,” Rachel assured her.
“I hope so. Pap loved Treepoint, so I’d like to know a little of him is spread around town.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Most of our donated items do get taken. The only items we’re finding it hard to get rid of are the ones Mag—Cash’s grandmother—donated to make room for the new stuff she buys.”
Cash snorted. “There’s nothing new about that junk she buys at those yard sales she’s addicted to.”