Page 45 of Whiskey Proposal

CHAPTER TWELVE

Emerson

Chickens run around at my feet. All week, since the crochet club, Brooks has been withdrawn. Nothing noticeable, but there’s a heaviness surrounding him.

He emerges from the barn where he’s got a cow convalescing from bloat. “Thanks for watching Hillary while the vet was here.”

“No problem.” It was this or be alone in the house while Lane’s in the shop. I haven’t heard him in the shower, and I’ve defaulted to avoiding him or I’ll lick more than a droplet off him. I fold my arms. Sometimes, talking to Brooks is like ramming my head into a wall. Will this be one of those times? “You gonna tell me what Lane said that’s got you so tied up?”

He frowns and feigns confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Hillary’s been on cloud nine since Hookers and Booze. She hasn’t quit talking about it and asking when the next one is. You’ve hardly said a word beyond ‘the house is selling.’ ”

The countdown is officially on. I focus on my brother instead.

He rubs his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Do I . . . Fuck.” He stabs the toe of his boot into the gravel. “Have I made you feel like you don’t matter?”

“What? No.” A conversation from a long time ago surfaces, but I shove it back into the depths of my brain. I’m over it. I had to move out on my own. It would’ve been nice to continue having Brooks’s support, but he’d done so much already.

“You can tell me. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“You took me away from here and raised me. That’s just the beginning of what you’ve done.”

“I finished raising you. You were fourteen and pretty damn self-sufficient.”

I hug myself. “We kind of had to be.”

“But you have some good memories of growing up here? Of Dad. And the pickup.”

“What are you talking about?” Why would he bring up the truck? “Did Lane say something to you?”

He scowls at the incredulity in my voice. “Yeah.”

Shock ricochets through me. They talked about me? Then anger. Lane said something to shut Brooks down. Brooks doesn’t clam up just because. Did Lane insult him? “What else did he say?”

“Nothing. He just said that if I rolled the pickup into the river because I thought he hurt you, that I wouldn’t have your best interests in mind.”

“Why would you— How would he—” I give up trying to comprehend that statement. “He made you feel like a bad brother?”

Brooks runs a hand over his hair. “I know I did a lot of things right, but there was Katie.”

Hillary’s mom is a raging bitch and a nearly carbon copy of our mother. “She was manipulative.”

“I was still wrong to kick you out.”

“I was an adult.” I stuff my hands on my hips. “Did Lane bring that up?”

“I shouldn’t have let you marry him.”

“Let me? I’m not a fourteen-year-old girl.” How dare Lane throw this whole trust business in my brother’s face. “But you do have an eleven-year-old kid who’s critical to us, and she’s number one. That asshole!” Seething, I stomp across the driveway to the road that’ll take me to Lane’s place.

“Emerson, don’t confront him.”

I want to get in Lane’s face. These emotions writhing between my ribs need an outlet. I spin and walk backward. “That man has had too much power. It’s time I take some back.”

“Fuck, Emerson. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He won’t. He likes his control too much.” I say it with all the authority I have, and I know I’m right.