Rough Country - Lauren Landish Page 0,156

and gives me a small smile. “Why would we go anywhere else, do anything else? This is home, yours and mine.”

Her mood-ring eyes swirl with happy light, and that she understands what this place means, not just to me but to my entire family, is nothing short of amazing. I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman, but I pray I can keep on doing it every day.

I bury myself in her arms, in her heart. In our future.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

The dinner table is loud and boisterous, as usual. Cooper is telling a story about the school’s fall festival, and Brutal keeps jumping in to add details from the several times he’s heard the story before. Cindy Lou is screeching, “Mama, more!” no matter how fast Sophie loads her plate with tiny, cut-up bits of carrots. James and Mark are fighting over the best cuts of pot roast, and I’ve got my woman’s hand in mine, smiling as I take it all in.

Once, I thought we were going to truly falter, losing everything. But somehow, I ended up with more than I’d ever thought I would. Mostly, these people, but also . . .

I clear my throat. “I’ve got something I’d like to discuss.”

There’s an instant and abrupt stop of conversation. “You want to discuss something? Like, with actual words?” Brutal’s giving me shit, but this is too important to play into his hand. For now. Later, I’ll get him back.

“Shut up and listen,” I tell him. He glares back, and I’m pretty sure there’ll be a tussle in our future. Fuck, I love that guy.

I turn my attention to Mama Louise and take a steadying breath. I can’t believe this is happening. So many tears, so much fighting, so much lost, and so much found, and it all culminates in this moment.

“When things went bad after Dad, you saved us, truly saved us, and I don’t think there’s any way we could ever thank you for that.”

Mama Louise interrupts, “No thanks needed, Bobby. You know that. I’m doing right by your mom. She was a good friend of mine for a long time, and I think Martha would be real proud of how you’ve all turned out.” She looks around the table, meeting my eyes, then Brutal’s, Brody’s, and Shayanne’s.

“I think she would be too, but at least some of that is your doing,” I assure her. “We were at a crossroads, but now, we’re at another one.”

I can sense confusion around the table, but Mama Louise smiles as if she knows exactly where I’m going. She probably does. She always knows everything.

“Things are going well with the music stuff. Real good, actually.” I clench my teeth, not believing that I’m about to say this, even though I’ve studied it from every angle. “You have the deed to the farm. I have money now. I want to make a large down payment and start making monthly payments to you so that we can buy Tannen Farm back. We need to own it again.”

Three, two, one . . .

“What? No.” Brody’s response is exactly what I expected.

“Hear me out,” I demand, but his head is shaking vehemently, already having made up his mind.

Mama Louise looks to Mark, but I’m too busy dealing with Brody to decipher their silent conversation.

“I’m supposed to take care of us,” Brody argues, thumping his chest.

“You’ve been taking care of us my whole adult life, literally since I was a grumpy-ass eighteen-year-old kid pouting at the unfairness of life. God knows, you put up with enough of my shit. But I’m grown now, Brody, and in case you haven’t noticed, we’re a team. We each pull our weight, take care of each other, and this is something I can do for us. For the Tannens.”

We don’t beg or plead. This is two bulls ramming heads against each other, immovable forces battling for dominance. Mama Louise doesn’t even bother correcting my language, letting us work this out between ourselves.

“No, absolutely not. No.” He’s not going to budge, but I’ve got an ace up my sleeve. He doesn’t want me to do this, but he wants to own our farm again more. I just have to make him admit that.

“That name on the fence used to mean something. It was ours. Tannen Farm, remember? It can be that way again—our land, our property, our farm . . . if you let me do this for us.”

Family roots, deeper than dirt, run into my soul and

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