The Bad Boy of Redemption Ranch - Maisey Yates Page 0,90
a study of the community, and of effective outcomes for crime and punishment, we can have a chat. Otherwise you have to respect that this is my area of expertise.”
Now she felt like she was back in control. Felt like she was back in the saddle, being herself.
Sammy tapped Ryder on the hand. She could always reach him with a small touch, and he always let her get away with it. Their relationship was something else altogether. “We’re not all as lucky as you are. I mean...not that you didn’t have losses. But I mean, we don’t all have family that’s waiting to pick us up when we fall down. And if we don’t have that, what do we have?” She looked around the table. “Community, I hope. A group of people willing to care just because. To create a support, a family just out of...goodness. You did that for me.” That last, soft part was directed at Ryder.
A muscle in her brother’s jaw tensed, and relaxed when Sammy removed her hand.
Pansy had to wonder if Iris had her assumptions about who had crushes, and where they were directed, all mixed up.
“Okay, Pansy, whatever you think,” Ryder conceded. “I mean, it’s your job, after all.”
Only when that was over did she dare sneak a glance at Sammy, who was gazing at her slyly.
Pansy narrowed one eye as subtly as she could.
Thankfully after that the conversation turned to other people and their pursuits, and she allowed herself to get lost in the shuffle, which was one of the fantastic things about having a big family. A big, loud one, that didn’t like you to get much beyond what they thought you were.
It was so interesting to spend all this time talking to West, who saw her in ways that she didn’t even see herself, and in ways her family certainly didn’t.
It made her feel prickly and strange. And she wanted badly to hide away. That was exactly why she couldn’t. Why she couldn’t allow herself to give in to this.
Because she’d hidden once before. Hidden after she’d disappointed her father. She had been weak.
She wouldn’t be again. She was stronger now, stronger than she had ever been before.
She just had to buck up and deal with herself. Yes, she was in a different situation than she had ever been in her life. She had a lover. She was trying out for a new job. But she had built herself on a more solid foundation that she was currently allowing herself to feel.
She was Officer Pansy Daniels.
She was the daughter of Gregory Daniels.
And she would do his legacy proud. She had to.
There was no other choice.
She had disappointed him in life. Even as a little girl, she had. And the sad thing was she was sure that if nothing had changed, that if he had lived, she would have disappointed him later too. Because what would have changed her? If not his loss, then what?
Her father’s death had been a defining moment in her life. It had changed everything she was.
So she had to stand firm in that.
She wasn’t going to crumble now.
No way.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“IT SEEMS as good a day as any for you to learn to ride,” West said, dropping a pair of boots next to the edge of the couch, where his half brother was lying and playing a video game.
West had spent a stupid amount of money buying electronics for the dumb kid.
He didn’t deserve it.
But West found that he was busy compensating for something. His own childhood, most likely.
He hadn’t had a damn thing that he’d wanted or needed. And sure, he would have taken a mother’s love over video games, but neither had been on the table. And he couldn’t be the kid’s mother. But, he could buy him video games.
His ex hadn’t left him that strapped. Not in comparison to how he’d started life anyway. All things considered he supposed he should be thankful. Not to her, she didn’t deserve his thanks. But the life he had here—the life he was building here—was a hell of a lot better than what he’d left behind.
“Ride what?” Emmett asked.
“A horse,” West said. “You said you didn’t know how to ride. Well, I want to teach you.”
“Gabe said we would learn at school,” Emmett said, and West was struck by the fact that Emmett seemed to believe he was staying here. That he had a sense of security. It was...it was good. It was damned good.