Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

Wyatt jumped down, landing directly in front of Gypsy. “I knew you’d come around.” He leaned in way too close, and lowered his voice. “Admit it. You like me.”

“I like making money. One set before Savage Justice plays, and you’re doing it pro bono.”

His grin cut through her barriers like a knife through butter. “Sugar, all I hear is yes.”

2

Wyatt stood on the sidewalk in front of his brother’s house in Franklin, Tennessee, a suburb of Nashville. The front door stood open, and the laughter and squeals of young girls poured through the screen door, out of the house, and through the front yard.

Wyatt had moved heaven and earth to share this day with his family, and the event should have filled his heart with joy. But it was wrong. All wrong.

Brody should slam that screen door open and tell Wyatt it was about time he got there. Offer him a beer. Ask when they were going fishing while Wyatt was in town.

Pressure built in Wyatt’s head, sadness in his heart, tears in his eyes. He looked up at the crystal blue sky and blinked back the sting. A gorgeous spring day for a little girl’s birthday party. Would have been perfect if that little girl had her father here.

It had been almost a year since Brody drove himself to one of their favorite fishing spots on the Cumberland River and put his Colt Classic semiauto to his head.

He’d done it while Wyatt had been on tour—because Wyatt was always on tour. He hadn’t been there to talk his brother off the ledge. To support his parents when they’d found out.

He turned his back on the house and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. When would this pain and guilt ease up?

“Uncle Wyatt! Uncle Wyatt!” The screen door did slam open then, and Brody’s little girl ran out onto the porch, her shoes clapping on the deck. “Mommy, Uncle Wyatt’s here.”

Wyatt took a deep breath, pushed his face into a smile, and turned to face Belle, braced to catch her. She flew down the porch steps, her yellow dress billowing behind her petite frame, long hair like her mother’s flying on the breeze in a dark tangle, and jumped into Wyatt’s awaiting arms.

It was their way. And now, with Brody’s daughter in Wyatt’s arms, a sliver of the pain eased. He hugged her tight. “Hey, monkey. Man, it’s good to see you.”

Instead of starting to jabber like she usually did, Belle kept her head on Wyatt’s shoulder, one arm tight at his neck. This was not their way.

“Happy birthday, little girl.” Wyatt leaned away and tried to get a look at her face to see if he could read her expression. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

She lifted her head, gaze downcast as her small hands played with Wyatt’s three-day-old scruff. “Daddy’s not here.”

A knife jabbed Wyatt’s ribs. He ran his hand down her hair and kissed her forehead. “I know, baby, but I promise he’s thinking about you. He loves you so much. The day you were born was the best day of his life.”

Movement on the porch caught Wyatt’s eye. Francie, Belle’s mother and Wyatt’s sister-in-law, stepped out of the house, arms crossed. She wore a pretty light-blue sundress, but her expression exposed just how hard this day was on her. “Belle, it’s time to cut the cake.”

As if someone flicked a switch, Belle’s expression brightened. She turned her head to look at Francie. “And then presents?”

Francie nodded.

“Speaking of presents…” Wyatt said, setting Belle on her feet.

She jumped on her toes, sadness over her father’s absence gone. “What did you get me, Uncle Wyatt? Did you get me a pony?”

He pulled the envelope from his back pocket. “Not a pony of your own, but lots of ponies to share.”

She gasped and tore open the envelope. Someone from Wyatt’s support staff had created a flier with a picture of horses and the simple large words “Horseback Riding Lessons,” so Belle could read it herself. A brochure from a local horse ranch was tucked into the flier along with a gift certificate for a year’s worth of lessons.

“Oh my gosh.” Her voice was comically adult, her eyes big, mouth hanging open. She spun and held up the flier. “Mommy, Uncle Wyatt’s taking me horseback riding!”

“Uh, well, honey,” Wyatt said, scratching his head. “They’re just for you. I can’t go. I have to work.”

Disappointment dimmed her excitement, and something unsettling scrambled in his gut. “But when I’m not on the road, I’ll definitely go with you.”

She wrapped his legs in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”