Luke ruffled the top of Hope’s head.
“Timing is something you learn from mistakes. The more you cook, the more mistakes you make, the better you get.”
“You should put that in your book,” Jo said.
“Says the one who lives out of a microwave box.”
Jo waved a forkful of chicken in the air. “The rice in the box is never undercooked.”
Luke and Wyatt both agreed.
“Good Lord, what have you two lived on for the past ten years?” Zoe asked the men.
Wyatt filled his fork with half-done rice. “Pizza.”
“Fried chicken,” Luke added.
“Beer.”
Luke kicked her under the table.
“I can grill a mean steak,” Wyatt said.
“It’s clear I moved back to River Bend in time save you all from high cholesterol and hypertension.”
“What’s hy-derp-teshion?” Hope asked.
“It’s what you get when you eat tasty things,” Miss Gina told her.
More than one set of eyes glared at the woman.
“What? It’s true.”
“What happened to peace, love, and all things earthy?” Zoe asked.
Miss Gina reached for her wine. “Oh, honey . . . we used that line before God created weed cards. Now that it’s all legal-like, we stopped eating wheatgrass.”
Jo blinked a few times. “You have a green card?”
“There is more in Eugene than my friend Peter.”
Zoe almost spit out her wine.
“You have a friend named Peter?” Hope asked.
An hour later, once Zoe helped Mel load the dishwasher and put the men to work cleaning the rest of the dishes, Mel put Hope to bed. Zoe and Jo walked Miss Gina to her van.
“I can stay at the inn tonight if you want.”
Miss Gina waved her off. “I have a nice couple from Eureka driving through.”
“And you came here?” It wasn’t often Miss Gina left the inn when there were guests.
“They have the emergency number. Besides, they were in bed before I left.”
Jo kissed her cheek. “Call if you need anything.”
They watched her pull out of the drive.
Zoe turned to walk back in and noticed Jo looking around.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s new.” Zane pointed to the shoulder holster Jo had tried to hide under her jogging jacket.
She blew it off with a white lie. “I noticed bear tracks on the trail the other day.”
If Zane didn’t believe her, he didn’t say anything.
They’d fallen into a routine of running two miles before the team showed up and then took off on the off track course for a few miles. It gave most of the kids the opportunity to go home and shower before returning for class.
“I’m worried about Zanya,” Zane said once they stopped and waited for the teens to arrive.
“Why?”
“You know Mylo?”
“Blaze’s dad, yeah. Seemed like an okay kid.” But barely able to drink in a bar and certainly not ready to be a daddy.
“He got a job at the RV plant. Doing pretty good, actually.”
“That’s great.”
“He told me he was going to ask Zanya to move in with him.”
Get away from Ziggy. “So why are you worried?”
“She’s afraid to leave.”
“What? Why?”
“I think she’s scared to leave my mom there alone.”
Jo waited a beat, and then asked, “Because of Ziggy?”
One nod was his answer.
Damn it.
“I remember him yelling before he went in. Now he just sits there and watches you.”
“Prison does strange things to people.”
“Yeah.” Zane tilted his water bottle back.
“Zane . . . has he hit her?”
“Zanya? No. Not that I know of.”
“But you think he might?”
He was obviously torn. “People can change, can’t they?”
Jo put a hand on her chest. “I drank more than all these kids in high school. My own dad put me in that cell I now hold the key to. You know what he said to me not long before he died?”
Zane shook his head.
“He told me the only way I was going to change was if I joined the military or lost something so precious it gutted me.” Emotion threatened to overtake her with a simple memory.
“Damn, Jo . . . I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too . . . because he was right, and I don’t have the chance to tell him. Problem is, your dad hasn’t lost something, and he didn’t join the army.”
“I wish he’d never gotten out.”
“A lot of people agree with that.”
“He’s my dad. I shouldn’t feel that way.”
“Society can’t dictate feelings, and you sure as hell don’t need to put up with abuse to prove your love.”
Zane kicked the stands. “I have one dad. One!”
Jo stood and placed a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “I’m going to ask you something I asked your sister when she went through this . . . was Ziggy a sperm donor, or was he a father? Did he give his donation and leave? Or did he stick around to dedicate his life to make yours better to the best of his abilities? We all have choices in this life, Zane. Life’s choices are what make us better or let us sit in the past and never grow.”
“I hate this.”
She did, too. “Try and get Zanya to leave. She doesn’t need to suffer the sins of her parents.”
Zane seemed good with that.
“And, Zane . . . call Zoe.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Zoe’s car sat in his drive, and the hope that she was cooking something amazing made his stomach grumble in happy anticipation.
That anticipatory happiness faded the second he breached the door and he found Zoe curled up on his sofa, a blanket in her lap, tears in her eyes.
He forgot about food and went straight to her.
Without words, she folded into his arms.
“Whose ass do I need to kick?”
She messed up the front of his shirt, and he waited. “I just got off the phone with Zane.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Both. He said he was sorry.” She sat back, looked at him. “He cried, Luke. I don’t remember my brother ever crying.”
He ran a finger under the tears in her eyes. “Still wanna kick his ass.”
She lowered her forehead to his chest. “How am I going to do this? Everything I love is here, and everything I hate is here! Zanya is trying to protect my mom, and Zane is trying to protect our sister, and all I can do is watch it all fall apart.”
The pain in her words had him holding her tighter.
If there was one thing to drive Zoe away, it was her dysfunctional family.
He wouldn’t survive losing her again.
“This place is crawling with new faces.” Jo walked into R&B’s wearing civilian clothes and no fewer than two weapons strapped to various parts of her body.
Josie cleaned the counter in front of her with a big grin. “Great for business. I’m told there was a developer looking at property on the other side of Waterville, by the RV plant. Considering a housing tract.”
“Out here?”
“That’s what I heard.”
River Bend and Waterville were known for spec houses that didn’t sit in cookie cutter yards. There were two old apartment buildings in Waterville that nearly everyone had either lived in or partied in when they were young. The growth came in bits and spurts . . . or not at all. “I guess the economy is turning around.”
“What are you drinking?”
“Put something fizzy in a glass with lime. Make it look good.”