Page 82 of Untruly With You

As soon as Frankie releases me, I’m pulled into another nearly identical hug. I hadn’t even noticed Magnolia and Hank behind Frankie. Magnolia sniffles as she holds me, her emotions overflowing. “We missed you,” she says as she lets me go.

Thoroughlynota hugger, Hank extends a trembling hand to me, and I shake it happily. Then, he leads us into Sutton’s room.

Inside, Sutton is still sound asleep, a deep crease between his eyebrows. Even while bandaged and bruised, he looks painfully handsome. We all line up on the far side of the room, watching his every unconscious movement.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Magnolia whispers, holding me by my elbows as if I’ll make a run for it.

“Frankie told me about the accident, so,”—I shrug—“here I am.”

“And back for good, I hope,” Frankie whispers, beaming.

It takes all my will to not groan. “Sutton still doesn’t want to put me through,”—I pause, flicking my eyes to Hank as I clear my throat—“the hardships ahead.”

“Fool,” Hank grumbles under his breath, eyes narrowing slightly at Sutton. “He’ll never be happy in West River if he has to sacrifice you to be there.”

“Not to mention his dream job,” I add, hoping Sutton’s family realizes the gravity of his choice.

Magnolia laces her fingers between Hank’s. “It wasn’t a straightforward decision for him.”

“Doyouthink he should stay in Montana?” Hank asks me, his jaw clenched.

I exhale slowly. “These next years are going to be hard on everyone. And for Sutton, giving up his career would make that all the more difficult. I think he should at least ask if there’s a possibility of getting the best of both worlds.”

Hank nods to himself. Then, his pale-blue eyes are on mine, cold and unreadable. “And you?”

It feels like I’m staring into the eyes of a wolf. “What about me?”

“He’ll be miserable without you.” Hank says it the same way he says everything else, matter-of-fact.

“Hell, I’d move to West River tomorrow if Sutton asked me to,” I whisper with a smirk, not entirely joking.

Hank ruminates on that for a moment. “Then do. Move here.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Good luck pitching that idea to Sutton.”

Frankie waves a dismissive hand. “Why does he need to be the one to approve? I do.”

I roll my eyes playfully, trying to not read too much into their words.

37

SUTTON

Even though weshared a bed our first week in Montana, Laine bunked with Frankie in the days following my return from the hospital, reminding me we didn’t need to continue our charade any longer. Beyond that, however, Laine rarely left my side. And whenever we were apart, someone in my family would pounce on me, each of them with the same end goal.

“She makes you happy,” Mom said.

Frankie was less direct. “Remember what I said about you being an idiot?”

At one point, even Wells mumbled an attempt at convincing me to change my mind. “Laine’s good for you.”

Tonight, the night before the wedding, Laine left to go help Frankie and Mom with the florals around the wedding arch. Within minutes, I see my father walking up to me, his steps slow. He has been watching me—me and Laine—from a distance since I returned home from the hospital. That constant stoic expression hid far more than it revealed.

He claps a hand on my shoulder, holding it there long enough to give the otherwise simple touch greater meaning.For a moment, we stand in companionable silence, watching the bustle of the ranch hands and cattle.

“You have a hell of a catch,” he says, his voice gruff but carrying a rare warmth. “She’s got fire, that Laine. Reminds me a bit of your mother when we were young.”

Taken off guard by my father expressing even a whisper of sentimentality, I stay motionless, worried anything I do or say might stop this train.

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