He wasn’t sure which brother asked, not that it mattered. The question was on the tip of both their tongues. He didn’t even think about it. “I do. Yes.”
Chance pulled out his phone and dialed a number as he stood up and walked across the room. He was the master of hushed conversations. Moments later he turned around. “You need to tell her that, Clay. Boone says she had a treatment this morning. She’ll be at her dad’s ranch now.” When Clay didn’t respond, he continued. “I’ll call Cassie. We’ll go with you.”
Staring at his younger brother, Clay wasn’t sure he’d heard Chance correctly. “We?”
Cord nodded. “You don’t think we’d let you do this alone, do you? Jolie and I are coming, too.”
Chance hauled Clay to his feet and hugged him tightly. “Family, Clay. The Barrons might be dysfunctional as hell, but we’re learning.”
He couldn’t speak, the lump in his throat tight and burning. Family. How in hell had his brothers figured it out when he’d been so clueless? He clung to Chance and felt Cord’s arms wrap around them both.
“You were there for us, Clay, when we were growing up. You diverted the old man’s attention and we owe you for that at the very least. Most of all, you’re our brother and we love you. We’ll get through this. All of us together.”
He blinked back tears and focused on Cord’s face. His brother’s expression radiated determination. And compassion. What Clay said next was something he’d never voiced aloud. “I love you guys.”
* * *
“You know he’ll come back.” Her father sounded both patient and certain. “And you need to talk to him when he does. Georgie, he wasn’t with that woman. She was just there. She jumped in and kissed him for the cameras. I’m positive that’s the truth.” He hunkered down in front of her chair and cupped her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?” At her nod, he continued. “Don’t be stubborn like your old dad, Georgie. Don’t let your pride stop you from having the love of a lifetime.”
Georgie pulled her shoulders up to her ears and hunched deeper into the chair. “It’s not like that. He doesn’t love me. I can’t stand in his way. He’s going to be the president. I... His father’s right. I wouldn’t be a good first lady.” Tears gathered on her lashes and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. “I can’t face him, Daddy. There’s no magic wand to wave to make it all better.”
“When did you stop believing in magic, baby girl?”
“When the shadows got so dark I couldn’t see any longer.”
“Aw, honey.”
“Don’t, Dad. Just...don’t. The doctors say a fifty-fifty chance.” A bittersweet smile formed on her face. “Today I feel half-dead.”
“Don’t say that, Georgeanne. Don’t you give up.” Her father pushed to his feet and stomped over to stare out the window. “Dang it. I hate this. I hate seein’ you weak and pale. You were never sick as a kid. You’d be out there even when the winter wind was cold enough to steal your breath. I’d be out there workin’, look up and there you’d be on top of ol’ Lucky, movin’ the cows to shelter.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I remember one time in particular. You came runnin’ in the house, your cheeks as red as apples, laughin’ and hidin’ a snowball behind your back. What happened to that little girl?”
“She grew up, Daddy. Grew up and went away. Do you still love what she left behind?”
“That’s a hellava thing to ask me, girl! Of course I love you. I’m your father. No matter what.” He grabbed a pillow and punched it a couple of times before gently easing it behind Georgie’s back. “Now, you listen to me, baby girl. You’re gonna win this fight. And if you had a lick of sense in that way too smart head of yours, you’d call Clayton Barron and tell him to get his ass down here.”
“No.” Georgie pulled her sweater a little tighter around her shoulders. She was always cold these days. Her chair faced the window. She could see the lake where she’d learned to fish and had gone swimming with her horse on hot summer days. The afternoon sun flared just above the horizon, teasing the water with glittering fingers.
This was why she’d come home. Not to die, but to heal, surrounded by the place that made her. She was so scared these days. Afraid of saying goodbye to those she loved. Afraid of living the moments she had left. The look on Clay’s face when she’d told him echoed in her dreams, a ghost she could neither touch nor exorcise.