“And Wyatt kept Carson from shooting you,” I said. “He’s right. Teamwork. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
His chin slowly rose until his fearful blue eyes met mine. Confronting Carson had helped him to regain some of his pride and confidence, but it would take some time for him to recapture the rest. His guilt wasn’t helping. I vowed to help him assuage it, even if it took years.
The group said their goodbyes, then headed to Ruth’s car.
I glanced up at Wyatt, but he was staring after his brother with a sad look in his eyes.
“You okay?” I asked softly. I knew he and Max had been close when they were kids. Maybe they could find their way to each other again.
He glanced down at me and his hand squeezed my hip. “Better than okay.”
But the contentment in his eyes shuttered as he shifted his attention to something to my side.
An older man and woman were speaking to Hank, but the older gentleman’s eyes were on Wyatt.
Wyatt’s back stiffened.
The older man had an arrogant air, with a sharpness in his eyes that let me know nothing got by him. His head full of white hair might have given him the appearance of an elderly man if it were not for the fact that he was in great physical shape, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, flaunted by the cut of his expensive suit. I didn’t need an introduction to know who he and the woman with him were. Bart and Emily Drummond.
The couple moved toward us, and Wyatt reached out and pulled his mother into a hug. Bart and Wyatt might have been estranged, but Wyatt and his mother weren’t. She had kind blue eyes but also the weary look of a woman used to getting beaten down. I suspected Emily’s cancer diagnosis wasn’t the only thing keeping Wyatt in Drum. It was his overall concern for her.
“You must be Carly,” she said in a soft lilt. “I’m Emily Drummond.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, ma’am.” I took her offered hand and shook it, careful not to squeeze too tightly. She looked like she could easily break.
“Carly,” she continued, “this is Bart, Wyatt’s father.”
I turned to face him with a cooler reception. He took my hand and shook with a firm grasp, and I got the message—I’m much stronger than you, and I can and will crush you.
I refrained from offering a greeting. Anything I said would be a lie.
“So you’re the woman who seems to have captured my son’s heart and attention,” he said in an icy tone.
Wyatt’s arm dropped from my back. He stepped toward his father, just inches in front of me, but it was enough to get his message across. There was a whole lot of body language going on.
“Terrible business about my man Carson,” Bart said, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. “Terrible business. We’ve offered the sheriff’s department our full cooperation to suss this out, but I can assure you that Drummond Properties had nothin’ to do with this messy business. In fact, I plan on offerin’ money to Hank and all the other families affected by Carson’s actions.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer to his father, lowering his voice. “You’re tellin’ me you had no idea what your right-hand man was doin’ in your town?”
A muscle in the corner of Bart’s left eye began to twitch. “That’s right.”
Wyatt smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You must really be slippin’, old man.”
“Wyatt,” his mother admonished quietly.
Wyatt’s gaze softened as he glanced in her direction, but his eyes were hard as iron when he addressed his father. “I don’t buy it for a second, and neither do the state troopers. So I’d lay low if I were you.”
“Layin’ low has never been my strong suit,” Bart said, smoothing his silk tie.
“Then I can only hope it will be your downfall,” Wyatt said.
Bart gave him one last look, then marched off toward the cars, leaving Emily to follow.
I wrapped my hand around Wyatt’s arm as we watched them walk away.
“You sure you want to stay here?” I asked.
He lowered his gaze, searching my face. “You changed your mind?”
“He won’t make it easy for us.”
“Live and let live, Carly,” he said.
I didn’t believe him for a second. “We’ll take care of your father first,” I said quietly. “Then we’ll take care of mine.”
He stared deep into my eyes. “Deal.”
I stole a glance at Bart Drummond, who stood at the crest of the hill, looking down at us.
A grin twisted his lips as our eyes locked, and in that moment, I wondered if I should have left town after all.
But it was a fleeting thought, quickly dismissed. Bart Drummond was a formidable man, but I was done backing down from powerful men.
I was just getting started.