Lyric pulled out one of the ten chairs that surrounded the big farm-style table in the center of the small room.
“Has Bree seen it?”
“No, she hasn’t seen any of Tucker’s recent paintings. The ones of the fire…”
“Are too much for her?”
“I don’t think Bree realized there were ones like this, or the series of horses in the meadow.”
“He won’t sell it.”
“That’s what she said.”
Jace looked back at Lyric. “Do they even have food?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “They have great food. I didn’t lie about that part. And I’m starving. Do you mind if I go upstairs and order?”
“Not at all. I’ll be up shortly, if that’s okay with you.”
“Take your time,” she smiled.
Jace sat in the chair Lyric had been seated in, and stared at the painting. His brother had been in Cheyenne last summer, but hadn’t wanted him to know he was there. He’d painted not only this one, but the one of the three of them fishing. Maybe his mama was right. Maybe they were both being stubborn.
The morning Tucker had realized that Jace was the man he’d seen in the dark that night, with the woman Tucker believed he loved, he’d come after Jace. He’d broken his nose and maybe would’ve done worse if Jace had fought back. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Maybe that was why Tucker had stopped and walked away.
Jace hadn’t tried to see him after that. He hadn’t explained, or asked forgiveness, or even tried to talk to Tucker about it. He just left. Ever since, he’d been waiting for his brother to contact him. Maybe he was waiting for Jace to make the first move.
Twenty minutes later, he climbed the stairs. Lyric was sitting at a table laden with enough food to feed ten people. And a bottle of red wine.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered everything.”
“Everything on the menu?”
“Yeah, it isn’t a very big menu.”
When they opened their second bottle of wine, Lyric started to talk about her family.
“You know I got a twin too, right?”
Jace knew she had a twin brother. He had a weird name, one Jace knew he should recall, but didn’t.
“Yep, how is your brother?”
“Bullet’s as much of a hot mess as he’s always been. Or more. I been tryin’ to get him the hell
outta Oklahoma, but haven’t had any luck yet.”
“Why not?”
Lyric spent the next hour telling Jace her brother’s story. When she finished, Jace was thankful his life wasn’t as much of a mess as this kid’s was, although in some ways it was close.
At twenty-five years old, Lyric’s brother had two kids, with two different women. The first, he never married, but supported anyway. The second, he married, but Lyric never knew, from day to day, whether they still were. From what she said, they hadn’t been married much over a year, and had spent as many nights apart as they had together.
“What’s he wanna do?” Jace asked.
“Ride bulls.”
“Yeah?”