Page 17 of The Map Home
“This is bullshit!” Boone was insisting. “We’ll fight it. We all know there’s just not enough water to support another damn housing development.”
Shocked, Tad stared at Boone. It was always mildly surprising when his brother’s brain cells came online.
“Of course we’ll fight it, Boone,” Burl assured him. “It’s just going to be long and ugly, and someone needs to keep tabs on Kline because he might pull a fast one. That’s probably how he got the land in the first place—if he really has it.”
“It’s not Kline we need to worry about,” said Larry. “It’s the politicians who say one thing and do another. Those guys in Cheyenne, they don’t care about anything but their wallets.”
“Alright, boys,” Penny interjected before Burl and Larry could get into it. “Now that you’ve ruined my end-of-year bonfire with real-life news, can we get back to the regular programming? This is a no-argument zone.”
“Unless it’s you and Dad,” Tad pointed out. “And FYI, there is no regular programming. It’s all streaming these days.”
“You know exactly what I mean, smart ass. And the two of us arguing,” his mother said with a cocky grin, “is our own special love language. Doesn’t count. Now, who’s ready for another cocktail?”
There was a chorus ofI amandyes pleaseandme first. Shaking her head but obviously pleased, Penny turned her attention to the makeshift bar and began taking requests.
Beside him, Dakota was watching and listening to the various conversations. That was such a Dakota thing. He was generally quiet around most everyone, with the exception of Tad, as if oneof the lessons life had taught him was to observe first and ask questions later—maybe. Truthfully, it had been.
“So anyway,” Tad said to Dakota, “I’m going into The Chronicle’s building early tomorrow to make sure that Curtis’s passwords and all that haven’t been messed with. I’d like to think he’s just being paranoid, but I don’t like Honey much either.”
“I’m pulling a double,” Dakota said. “Everyone is. Sheriff Morgan is twitchy about the fair and the tree lighting. He’s sure something will happen.”
As far as Tad knew, the annual tree lighting ceremony had generally been trouble-free but, he supposed, there was always a first time.
“Hopefully, it will just be the lights turning on and everyone oohing and aahing.”
“Yeah, hopefully.” Dakota tipped the last of his drink back and licked the last of the rum off his lips. Was hetryingto kill Tad? “I’m gonna take off. Are you staying with your folks?”
Tad nodded as he attempted to adjust himself and recover from imagining Dakota’s tongue sliding acrosshislips. “Be careful driving into town. That highway is fucking slick.”
“As if I didn’t know that,” Dakota retorted.
After sittingaround the fire until late and arguing with Boone about which John Wick movie was the best—obviously, the first one was the only right answer—Tad headed to his childhood bedroom.
Did he wish Dakota was there with him? Yes, he did.
Dakota Green had appeared in Tad’s life when he was almost fifteen years old and had changed it forever. After watching and,unfortunately, listening to his brother woo every eligible girl in the area, Tad had begun to wonder if he was attracted to men instead of women. Girls just did nothing for him.
Then Dakota had showed up at the ranch and a teenaged Tad had his answer. He’d thought he’d done a pretty good job hiding his attraction and just focusing on being a friend, because even adolescent Tad had recognized that Dakota needed a friend more than anything else.
But his mom figured him out pretty fast. Penny Gillespie was nobody’s fool. After a mortifying conversation about safe sex and other things that Tad had had to scrub from his memory banks, his mom had hugged him and said, “Your dad and I have suspected for a while now, Tad. We both love you so much, and we just want you to be happy.” Almost as an afterthought, she’d added, “Dakota seems like a nice boy. He has a lot going on in his life though.”
To this day, Tad continued to thank the entire universe that his dad had chosen to let Penny do the talking. Although his dad had given Tad a manly fist bump the next time he’d seen him. Equally embarrassing.
The next morning,Tad woke up earlier than he’d expected to, low-key excited for the tree lighting and whatever else the day brought him. He got to be a journalist today, even if it was covering an event in his own tiny hometown. Who knew, maybe he’d see it differently covering it as a reporter.
He showered, dressed, kissed his mom, hugged his dad, and headed out to the farm truck he’d inherited from his dad—via Boone, of course. Supposedly, Boone was popping the question to Amanda today, or this weekend anyway. Tad had to admitthat regardless of his stupid “married at thirty” comment last night, he was glad not to be the center of his parents’ attention at the breakfast table. Ha, ha on Boone.
“I’ll see you later!” his mom called out the open front door. “Dad and I are bringing the teddy bears in and dropping them at the tree, then we’re having a quick drink at Odette’s.”
“Have fun. See ya later, Mom.”
Tad was tempted to text Dakota before he headed in but decided against it. Dakota didn’t need Tad bugging him when he was working. Instead, he started the engine and called Curtis on speaker, doubting the older man would be asleep, surgery or not.
As expected, Curtis answered immediately with a gruff, “Morning, Tad.”
“Heya, Curtis. How’re you feeling today?”
“Like somebody ran me over, backed up, and ran me over again. I still don’t know how I slipped. I’ve walked that sidewalk a million times, could do it in my sleep. And yet, here I am, held together with pins and wrapped in cotton.” Curtis sounded pissed off, which Tad could totally understand.
