Page 13 of The Map Home
“Evening, Kota,” Waylon greeted him with an easy smile.
“Evening, Kota,” was repeated by grizzled Burl Montgomery, the cook for Twisted Pine. Next to him was Kit Larson, the local veterinarian. The two men looked cozy and not for the first time Dakota wondered if they were a couple, or if they were poly with Robin, the owner of Twisted Pine—not that it mattered, or was any of his business. Most people deserved to be happy.Kit nodded and waved vaguely his direction with the hand not wrapped protectively around a tin mug filled to the brim with liquid.
Oh yeah, he could already tell the drinks were extra strong tonight.
“There’s hot buttered rum over there,” Tad said, “and some toddy makings too.”
Penny jumped up from her spot next to the stack of chopped wood to wrap Dakota in a tight embrace. Dakota squeezed her back; it was impossible not to. She smelled like wood smoke and pine needles.
“It’s so good to see you, Dakota,” she said. “Let me make you a drink.”
“You just saw him in town a few days ago,” grumbled Waylon.
“That’s different. This is family, not the Seed and Feed. Were you giving Marcus Jones a ticket? He is a terrible driver,” Penny asked. “Do you want a whiskey, or a hot buttered rum?”
“Let the boy answer at least one of your questions before you ask another,” Larry Beddam said. Larry was Penny’s younger brother and also part owner of the ranch. The two of them had bought out their two younger sisters, who loved the ranch but didn’t want to run it, years ago. “A person can’t get a word in edgewise around here.”
Penny laughed and swatted her brother. “Edgewise, that’s such a silly saying. Word? What do you want to drink, Dakota?”
“A hot buttered rum sounds good.” He’d have one and pour out the others that would be pressed into his hand.
While the siblings teased each other, Dakota took the spot next to Tad. He unbuttoned his jacket but didn’t take it off. The key to sitting around a massive fire was keeping your back warm without roasting your front. It was an art, one he’d perfectedduring his years living on the ranch and hadn’t forgotten after he’d moved to town.
Tad scooted his chair close enough to Dakota that their shoulders pressed together.
“You showed up!” Tad whispered, not at all quietly.
“As if I’d ever hear the end of it if I didn’t,” Dakota replied, accepting the mug of rum with a tiny bit of hit batter floating in it from Penny. He carefully sipped it. “Jeez, Mrs. G, we aren’t pirates. This is almost pure rum.”
Penny laughed as she made her way back to her spot. “Pirate cowboys! That sounds like a book I need to read.”
“I’m going to have to build you a new bookcase,” Waylon fake-grumbled.
Everyone knew that Waylon would do anything in the world for Penny. It was a little depressing for Dakota to spend time around the Gillespie family, even though they didn’t purposefully try to make him feel like the odd man out. What did he have to offer them? He wasn’t a carpenter or rancher. He’d been forced on them by a mother who’d left him there when he was barely fourteen. They’d taken him in when they could have called Child Protective Services and let the state take care of everything. Dakota could never allow himself to forget how much he owed them.
“That’s true love for ya,” Penny said with a happy sigh. “A new bookcase. I knew I got the best one. Dakota, you just missed Nash and Max, so nice to catch up with them. Robin was here for a bit too.”
“They escaped, you mean,” muttered Dakota. Beside him, Tad snickered. Max Stone was a nice guy, but Nash Vigil, his partner, was on the surly side. Dakota figured that it had been Max who wanted to join the year-end celebration and Nash had reluctantly obliged. Max must make Nash happy, becausebefore they got together, he rarely accepted invitations for social events.
Waylon stood up and tossed a few more logs onto the fire before returning to sit next to Penny. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, he hugged her close to him. She smiled up at her husband, and Dakota felt the familiar pinch of longing.
Across from him, Kit’s and Burl’s heads were now close together. Whatever they were talking about seemed intense, but he couldn’t hear anything over the crackle of the flames. He didn’t know them well, but he liked both men. He was oddly fascinated by the ease they navigated their world. They were what Penny called gentle giants, the types who wouldn’t hurt a fly—unless a person threatened someone close to them. They were also in their sixties, so perhaps less giant than they used to be.
The fire snapped and licked its way across the fresh fuel. Sparks flew and popped up toward the dark night sky; some drifted back down slowly, some shot up like wayward comets and disappearing from view.
It had stopped snowing, for now anyway. A few clouds remained, a hint they might have more where that came from. Dakota squinted, looking up at the stars, but it was hard to see any but the brightest of them with the firelight blazing.
“Hey, everybody. Dakota,” a familiar voice said from outside the ring of light.
It really had been too much to hope that Boone had also already left the party.
“Boone,” Dakota said, lifting his chin in Boone’s general direction.
When Waylon and Penny retired, Boone was supposed to take over and run the ranch with his uncle. As long as he didn’t get taken in by some scammer selling a bridge in Brooklyn or something like that before then, Dakota thought darkly. Luckily,it didn’t seem as if Waylon or Penny were anywhere close to retiring. Larry was only one person, and it took at least two to keep Boone in line.
Ages ago, when Dakota had asked Tad if he was jealous of his brother, Tad had insisted that he didn’t want to run the ranch. He was perfectly happy with Boone being in the spotlight. But sometimes, when Boone was being especially annoying, Dakota wondered if Tad regretted being secondborn.
“I hear you’re a sheriff’s deputy now.”
