“Wyatt says no. He wants to fight it. He hired a lawyer.” I looked down in case my face made a distasteful expression at the idea of him spending time with Jeannette again. Stupid, I knew, considering I didn’t want Wyatt. Well I did, but I shouldn’t.
“Good for him. I always thought he had a good head on his shoulders despite his father. I suppose I don’t blame him for running off the way he did.”
I frowned. “Did you know he was abused?”
My mother cast a glance at my father. It was one of those looks that said it was impolite to gossip about other people’s business.
My father shrugged. “I think it’s a well-known secret that Peggy was abused. I couldn’t say about Wyatt.”
“Why didn’t anyone do anything?” I was horrified that people would know Peggy was being hit and didn’t do anything to stop it.
“She didn’t want it.” My mother looked at my daughter. “Did you tell your mom what we did today?” That effectively cut off the discussion.
I remembered Wyatt telling me his mother got mad at him when he tried to protect her, it was probable that she hadn’t wanted help.
“Yep. Who’s Wyatt?” Alyssa asked.
It was the first time I’d ever heard her say her father’s name, and guilt lanced through me at what I was doing.
“He was your uncle Ryder’s best buddy growing up,” my father said. “One day he hightailed it out of town and no one knew what happened to him.”
“What did happen to him? Do you know, Sinclair?” my mother asked.
“He joined the military, but didn’t re-enlist when his mother told him his father left and the farm was struggling.”
“So, he’s home to stay. I’m so glad for Peggy.”
“Let’s just hope he and Ryder don’t go getting into trouble again. I swear those boys were like hellions,” Dad added.
“What’s a hellion?” Alyssa asked.
“Troublemakers.” I nodded to her plate. “Eat your green beans.”
She made a face. “Green stuff is never yummy.”
“But it’s good for you,” my mother told her.
“Here, put more butter on it. Butter makes everything palatable,” my father said, handing Alyssa the plate with the butter from a local dairy.
“What’s palatable?” she asked, cutting a square.
“Easy to eat,” I said.
“We should invite Peggy and Wyatt for Sunday dinner,” my mother said.
I choked on the water I was sipping.
“Are you okay?” my father asked.
Alyssa patted my back.
“Wrong pipe,” I managed. In that moment, I realized just how complicated my life had become. If Wyatt stayed, he’d be a part of the community. We’d see him everywhere. I wouldn’t be able to avoid him. My conscience told me I shouldn’t avoid him. In fact, it said I should drive over to his place and tell him the truth right now. But my car was downtown because I’d had too much to drink to drive home. I’d have to catch a ride to work with my dad tomorrow when he went to work running the store.
I knew that was a lame excuse, but as I watched Alyssa spread copious amounts of butter on her green beans, I knew I had to protect her from heartache. If Stark got his way and took the Jones’ farm, I couldn’t imagine Wyatt hanging around. It was one thing to leave me, but I wouldn’t let Alyssa feel the pain of rejection and abandonment.
13
Wyatt
That night at the oak tree, moving inside of Sinclair felt like a dream. Like one of the many I’d had since leaving Salvation. Now, days later, I was back to jerking off to the image of Sinclair riding my dick in my morning shower, and working the ranch all day.
I was still waiting for Jeannette to complete paperwork to start the process of securing me as the owner of the farm, but luckily, none of Stark’s letters or goons had shown up.
In the afternoon, I headed out to the farming cooperative store to buy some new feeders and buckets. I didn’t think my father had ever replaced the ones he inherited. I also picked up a couple of new bedding forks and some saddle soap.
“Now that Julie is gone and not teaching riding, I think I might have to sell my ponies.” I overheard Jasper Long saying to another man who seemed familiar but I couldn’t place. I’d known Jasper forever as most people in Salvation did. His family had been around about as long as mine had in Salvation. His daughter Julie had been a few years behind me in school.
“How’s the farm doing?” the other man asked.
“We’re hanging in there. Wish the price of soybeans would go up, but I think we’ll be alright. I tell ya’, farming isn’t what it used to be though. Used to be people supported family farms.”
“I’ve actually been considering selling to Stark,” the other man said. “If he succeeds in building a prison, our land value will go down and I can’t afford that.”
I picked up the saddle soap and headed up the aisle toward the two men.
“Well look what the wind blew back into town,” Jasper said when he saw me.
I smiled, feeling good that he remembered me. “Hi, Mr. Long. How are you?”
“Oh, I can’t complain…Well, I could. Sam, you remember Frank Jones? This is his son Wyatt. Where you been, boy?”
“Military.”
“What branch?” Sam asked.
“Army. Special Forces.”
Jasper whistled. “Good for you. You done your country and Salvation proud. You home to take over the farm from your dad?”
I nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“Has Stark been stalking you to sell?” Sam asked.
“He has. He doesn’t seem to take no for an answer though.”
“He’s a wily one.” Jasper nodded. “How are you going to fight it?”
“The mayor’s office is putting together some sort of-”
Sam rolled his eyes. “They don’t give a shit about us. I wouldn’t put it past Valentine or any of them to be getting some sort of
