Banshee jumped up from his place on the deck, pushing his massive head under her hand. She patted him, dumped the dirty water out and leaned against the railing, gasping for breath. The past was over and done with. She had no right to feel anything. None. So her anger was a shock. But she was. Really angry.
Worse, she hurt.
I’m done hurting over the past.
Banshee head-butted her hand, groaning in the back of his throat. She rubbed behind his ear, his silky fur calming her. A little.
Fourteen months? Fourteen months. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Didn’t want to.
“Is that Tandy Boone?”
Tandy jumped, spinning on her heel. “Brody?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t know you were here. Last I heard, you were wheeling and dealing in Dallas, or something.”
“Just got here. Nothing like a funeral to get people together again.” Brody Wallace’s hug was warm. “I make the trip once a month, or when Dad needs me. He’s never fully recovered from his stroke last fall. Not that he’d admit it or say I was anything other than a nuisance.”
“You’re being a good son to check in on him so regularly. No thoughts of taking over the family businesses yet?” she asked.
“Soon, maybe.” Brody smiled. “I came to pay my respects. Lynnie Hale was a rare breed.”
Tandy nodded. “She was that.”
“What brings you back to Fort Kyle?” Brody’s brown eyes did a quick head-to-toe. “Not that I’m not glad to see you and all. Who is this?” he asked, nodding at Banshee.
“Banshee, my best friend, of course. We moved for a new job at the veterinary clinic.” She squinted into the setting sun, the fence between Lynnie’s and Uncle Woodrow’s property visible. And just beyond the fence line sat one of Uncle Woodrow’s hunting cabins. Wildflowers carpeted the space between, vibrant pinks and reds and blues a stark contrast to the rugged beauty of West Texas. Nothing like the rolling hills she’d left behind in Stonewall Crossing. Please God, don’t let this move be a mistake.
“So you’ll be around for a while?” he asked.
She shrugged, everything she’d known a few hours ago no longer certain. The job here paid ridiculously well, and she still needed some distance from all the weddings and babies in Stonewall Crossing. She was happy for her family and loved them dearly, but it was hard. “We’ll see.” She rubbed on Banshee then, smiling into his golden eyes.
“What’s taking so long? You better not be scrubbing the porch or sweeping the rafters—” Renata’s eyes went round when she spied Brody. “Brody Wallace, what are you doing out here?”
Brody laughed. “Enjoying the view.” He caught Renata in a big hug. “Damn good to see you, Renata.”
“You, too.” Renata clapped his shoulders. “You should come with us tonight. We can catch up.”
Brody looked back and forth between them. “Where are you going?”
“The Tumbleweed,” Renata said. “Drinks are definitely in order.”
Brody nodded. “I could use a drink. Any other Boones around?”
Tandy shook her head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “If you’re asking if Uncle Woodrow is here, the answer is no. It’s just me, Renata and Scarlett.”
He winked. “He’s not real fond of me. Guess it’s the last name.” As far as Tandy knew, the Wallace-Boone animosity began and ended with the current patriarchs.
“Is that why you’re hanging around outside?” Tandy asked.
He shrugged. “No point adding more stress to the day.”
“Agreed. We’ll meet you there, around seven,” Renata said, waving at him before tugging Tandy back into the kitchen. “No more. I’m guessing you’re as ready to go as I am?”
Tandy nodded. “You get Scarlett, I’ll get the truck.”
Renata nodded, her blue eyes full of sympathy once more. “If it helps, he’s in Lynnie’s room with...with his daughter.”
Tandy frowned, straightening. “I’m not hiding from him,” she lied. If she was avoiding him it was because she was afraid she’d cause a scene. Not by yelling, that wasn’t her style. But crying a river of tears was a surefire way to get people talking. Her cheeks were flaming as she headed from the kitchen to the front door.
“Tandy, there you are.” Miss Francis gripped her arm. “We hoped you’d play Lynnie’s favorite hymn for us. It was too quiet at the service today, what with Mr. Magee’s arthritis making it hard for him to play. Seems wrong, don’t you think? With her love of music and all.”