Impulsion (Station 32 #1)(51)
“What are you going to school for?” Ava pressed.
“Basically investment banking, but business law is attached to the course major.”
“What exactly do they teach you in banking school?” Beckett asked. “How to count money? I can help you with that—one head of cattle, two head of cattle. You need to subtract, that’s easy,” he said, pointing to Trey’s empty seat. “One college fund,” then to Ava, “another one, some days anyways.” He nodded his chin to Easton and Wyatt, “One six-pack, two six-packs.”
“Hey now,” Easton said. “I fill that fridge up more than I empty it these days.”
“These days. I’m still running a debt from y’all’s senior year.”
“Beckett, did you get those back fences repaired today?” Camille asked in a tone that clearly said to change the subject.
Harley just sat back and took it all in, tried to figure out what she had missed. No one was really offering up much information or going out of their way to fill Harley in except Ava, who told Harley where everyone was now, including the horses that were still at the barn and those that had left.
“Is Stolen Heart still here?” Harley asked.
Ava went to answer her, but Camille changed the subject again. “We need to start setting up for the shows over the remainder of the season. Figure out who’s going or not.” That statement led the conversation in every other direction to the point that Harley had even forgotten the question she asked.
Once dinner was over, Wyatt, Truman, and Easton went to the back porch. Each time Harley found a reason to look that way, she found one of them looking back at her, could swear she saw the anger in their eyes.
When she finally excused herself to go upstairs, Camille called after her. “Harley, if you see fit to going on a midnight stroll, please use either the front or back door to exit. I wouldn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself further.”
“Good plan,” was all Harley said.
She expected short little knocks like that before she came here. The Dorans were just a blunt family. They never really let you get over something you had done in your past, but they didn’t stab you with it the way her mother did; they joked about it, to the point where you could laugh at yourself. Harley was a long way from laughing about her situation but appreciated any step in that direction she could take.
***
“That was a bit tight,” Truman said to Easton and Wyatt as he leaned into the rail of the porch. It was his idea to ask Easton over tonight. He would be at dinner no matter what, but he thought if Easton were here, it would help balance out Wyatt a little more.
This role reversal was making Truman uneasy, to say the least. Over the years, Wyatt had become the fun one in their group, the one with a quick smile, fast wit, nicknames—the one that eased tension.
Not since that call, though. All that aggression they knew was under the fast smile had flooded to the surface. The entire farm felt heavier, so did the fire station. It was blowing Truman’s mind, honestly. He knew it ended bad, that they were ripped apart, but before that, growing up, when they knew Harley was coming to the farm it was like getting ready for Christmas. She’d always brought a sense of calm to the farm, a balance, the kind of company you walked straighter around but didn’t mind having there constantly.
Easton had walked through a hell that no one would wish for, and Wyatt was there with him through that. Truman was scared to death to follow all of them into the fire department, and even though Wyatt still teased him, he made sure Truman was at ease.
Now it appeared it was Wyatt’s turn to walk through hell, to experience a life change. And they were all going to be there with him to deal with it.
“She’s not the same,” Wyatt said under his breath.
“Did you guys talk?” Easton asked. He saw what happened in the cab of that truck, how her eyes flew open, how she’d kissed Wyatt like he was a life force, and the way he kissed her back. He thought this was a done deal, even figured that Camille was overreacting by telling Wyatt to take it slow. But then he saw the reaction Wyatt had to the evidence that Harley had moved on with her life in some way. Easton was cussing himself for gathering all that stuff off the highway. Maybe if he hadn’t, all of this would be easier, and Wyatt wouldn’t be looking like he was on the losing end of this deal.
“Not much.”
“Then how do you know she’s not the same?”
Wyatt smirked. “Because she snapped on me.”
“What did you say?” Truman asked with a furrowed brow, his dark blue eyes slicing into Wyatt.
Wyatt shook his head. “Something like I shouldn’t give her crap about being with someone two years after we split. She asked if I’d rather she had just slept around, then asked who I’d been with in a roundabout way.”
“You didn’t think to ease into that conversation?” Easton asked, almost dumbfounded Wyatt went down that road that fast.
“It just happened,” Wyatt said with a curse under his breath.
Easton leaned a little closer. “Wyatt, years back you were not Mr. Innocent.”
That was true. Too true. For the most part since he’d been home, he had been. This town was too small to start something unless you meant it. Wyatt might hang out at the pub, dance with a girl here or there, something like that, but for a good while he’d been straight. If he had known that Harley would be back at his farm down the road, in a relationship or not, he would have thought twice about a few random nights when he was far from home.