Page 53 of The Refiner

“You’re not going to stay here with Tatum?”

I shake my head. “I can’t. My job isn’t as lenient as Astor’s. I’ll have to go back to work if I plan on eating again.” I shrug. “It’s not an ideal situation, but I’m glad Tatum has Astor. He’s a good father.”

Halle nods like she understands, but she couldn’t possibly. “What about family? Do you have support in Fairfield?”

Suddenly, Astor grabs Duke and hauls him away from Vance. “We’ll discuss this later,” he says all authoritative-like, which shoots tingles straight to my toes.

Vance, however, ruins the feeling when he grits out, “You aren’t included in this.” He pauses and flashes me a look. “You have enough to worry about. I said I’ll handle it.” Astor doesn’t respond; he simply works his jaw like he’s about to crack a tooth, so Vance continues, pointing at Duke, “And you’ll stop whatever you’re planning. She’s not yours anymore.”

Duke is in his face in seconds. “She’s always been mine, not his.”

Ah. I should have known they were arguing over a girl. The question is why Vance cares and what does this girl have to do with their medical practice.

But whatever. I don’t have time for their drama. I just need Tatum’s diva daddy to take me to Piper’s, so I can make funeral arrangements for my sister.

“Well,” I say, walking away from Halle and her uncomfortable questions, “now that that’s settled, Grandpa and I have funeral arrangements to make. If you’ll all kindly keep my niece alive and keep the emotional damage to a minimum, we’d appreciate it.”

I grab Astor’s arm and pull him toward the front door. “You sure Tatum will be okay with them?”

He pauses a moment like he’s not as confident as he was a few minutes ago.

That’s answer enough for me. “Stay here. I’ll call you if I need anything.” Which I won’t. I can handle the arrangements without help from a man. I always have.

A hand clutches mine. “Not a chance. Let’s go.”

Piper’s house feels like a museum. I’m scared to touch things, even the cup she left on the counter. All that’s floating around in my head is that my sister touched that glass for the last time.

Grief is debilitating.

“I can help you search her files.” Astor’s voice breaks through my wandering thoughts. “See if she left a will.”

I wave him off. “Knowing Piper, she had a will, and likely has it filed and labeled in her office. She was always the overachiever.”

Astor tips his chin, his body seemingly tense since we walked through the door. “I’ll be outside then.”

“Okay.”

I wait until Astor disappears out the back door, before I set my purse down on Piper’s antique coffee table and breathe.

I can do this.

I can follow my sister’s final wishes.

I can pick out the dress she’ll forever wear, the barrette she always wore of Mom’s most definitely needs to go in her hair, and her shoes… I don’t know about her shoes. I vote she go barefoot. But, likely, Piper would want something casual yet stylish. She was the opposite of me; yet, we fit together. She was the yin to my yang… in perfect harmony with each other.

Fighting back tears, I walk toward Piper’s office and stop.

Astor is in the backyard.

His shirt is off, and the muscles in his back flex as he cranks the push mower. Each pull is the catalyst of rippling muscles as they pull taut and release. It’s like a dance, a ridiculous sexy dance made of only man and sweat.

Who knew the surgeon knew how to do yard work. It seems so beneath him; yet, he finally gets the lawn mower to crank, walking up and down Piper’s small backyard. I don’t know how often the grass needs cutting, but I’m sure Piper has a lawn service that will handle it, especially when I list her house for sale.

Like he knew I was watching him, Astor turns and levels me with a stupid grin that causes my hand to spasm and drop my phone on the floor.

I don’t need it anyway.

I need to finish what I started and find Piper’s will—in her office, and not by the French doors where her boy toy is mowing like a freaking gentleman. What is with the men in Bloomfield, Texas? Why aren’t they shitty like Ass Face and Archer? Why do they make sure you eat, and that your sister’s grass is mowed, even though she isn’t there to complain about it?

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