Looking for Trouble (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 1)

“This is wrong,” Sophie snapped. “Stop it.”

But Rose had her own answer. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. She’s exactly like her mother. Look at her.” She stabbed a finger at Sophie, still stalking forward, closing the space between them. The crowd parted, giving her room to do her worst. “Same hair. Same face. Spreading her legs for a man who doesn’t belong to her.”

This time the crowd’s gasp was a roar that rumbled through Sophie’s head.

“Mom!” Alex and Shane snapped the word at the same time, but Alex got to her first. He grabbed his mother’s arms in a steady grip and pulled her to a stop.

“You cut this out right now,” he growled at his mother, but his eyes were locked with Sophie’s.

“I’m sorry,” Sophie said again, but his mom was decidedly less conciliatory.

“I know what you’re doing with her! How could you touch her? She’s no better than a dog. A red-headed slut pretending to be a decent woman!”

“Mom.” Alex started pulling his mother back. “Go!” he yelled at Sophie. “Just get the hell out of here, for God’s sake.”

Sophie tugged her brother in the other direction. This time, he actually moved with her.

Rose snarled like a wild animal. “You’re monsters!” she yelled. “No one wants you here!”

They were monsters. Her brother should never have come here, but she’d made it worse by following. Before Sophie turned away, she saw Rose Bishop collapse into her chair, sobbing. Shane and Merry both spoke frantically to her, but Alex stayed quiet, his hands still locked on her shoulders as if to hold her down, but his eyes were on Sophie. And they were blazing with blue fury.

Sophie’s stomach turned. She felt like throwing up, especially when she tore her gaze from Alex and saw the pale, shocked faces of the audience. Some of them watched her, some watched the Bishops, but they all looked stunned. And excited. She’d created the exact thing she’d been desperate to avoid.

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She clawed at David’s arm and dragged him backward until he finally turned and followed. Then he was in front of her, leaving her behind, storming out as if she was the one who’d dragged him here.

“Wait,” she gasped, jogging now, past the press of people, and then the stragglers, then the empty houses and shops of the dead town. “David! Wait!”

“You wanted me to leave, I’m leaving.” He shook off her hand when she reached for him.

The fury she’d seen in Alex’s eyes burrowed inside her and became fury in her gut. She hated David. She wanted to hit him. Wanted to make him hurt the way she was hurting. But she could never hurt him that badly, because he didn’t give a damn about anything.

He never had. Not her, not their father, not the ranch.

She chased after him as they reached the parking lot. “Why did you come here? Why?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t stop. She followed him through the lot and out to the road, wishing she could kick off her heels, and knowing there was no way she could run barefoot across gravel. “You have to talk to me. You owe me that.”

“I don’t have to talk about shit,” he said over his shoulder.

Before she could get to him, he was in his truck. She banged on the window, but when he started the engine, she changed course and raced back toward her car. Sophie reached it just as the first early deserters were walking out of Providence.

She lowered her eyes to avoid their stares and slipped into her car. She tried to control herself, tried not to throw any gravel up as she left, but she had to catch him. And she had to get away.

It took a few minutes. She was almost to the highway by the time she saw him. His truck was better equipped for the washboard road and she was blinded by the dust his tires threw into the air, but once they were on the highway, she caught up.

He was driving south, which could mean he was going into Jackson, or could mean he was heading home. It didn’t matter to her. She was following him wherever he was going. He wasn’t just going to walk away and sulk like some sullen teenager this time. He could damn well answer for himself like an adult.

This was really bad. It wasn’t some decades-old scandal dusted off. It wasn’t even something as dry as the black-and-white text of a new lawsuit. This had happened in living color in front of at least two hundred locals, most of whom had only been there in the hopes that something just like that would happen. This would be talked about for years, passed on in whispers anytime a Bishop or Heyer left a room.

She glared at the back of her brother’s head, hoping if she put enough anger into it, his hair would start to smoke. But it didn’t work. In fact, her head was the one aching within a few minutes. She caught her brother’s gaze in the rearview mirror and made a phone sign next to her head. He ignored her and sped up.

But his efforts were in vain. They reached the town limits and he had to slow down. The highway patrol were spread a lot thinner than the town police, and the town made a bundle off of tourists speeding their way home from Yellowstone.

Her head ached worse as they inched their way through town. Sophie unclenched her hands from the steering wheel and rolled her shoulders. Her brother headed south. He wasn’t stopping here. He glanced into the mirror to see if she was still following.

“You’re not getting away,” she muttered. “And you’re not going to hide behind Dad this time.”

Shit. Dad. She had to call him before someone else did. Her phone rang just as she was reaching for it, and Sophie gasped and jerked her hand away. It could be Alex or her dad, or it could even be someone from the newspaper. It hit her then that this was going to take over her life, for days or even weeks. Hell, this might be the rest of her life. The old spinster whore librarian.