each other as well as we do.”
“Things have changed, Aaron.”
That was the second time tonight he’d heard essentially the same thing. “To hell with change. Why does everything have to change?”
“Just let go of the past. The two of you aren’t good for each other—especially now that she has a child.”
The old anger welled up. “Wait a second. Who the hell are you to make that decision?”
Dylan shot him a dirty look. “Chey and I were here when you were together, remember? We know what the two of you were like.”
“So what? You have no right to tell me who I can and can’t see. Even after all these years, you’re still trying to be my father?”
Dylan paused the Lakers game. “Don’t start on that tired old argument—”
“I’ll start on it if I want to. I’ve had enough, Dyl. There’s only three years between us. It’s time you remembered that.”
Fortunately for Aaron’s peace of mind, Dylan didn’t deny that he had the tendency to be too controlling. “Old habits are hard to break, I guess,” he grumbled. “Anyway, when will you finally get past whatever you hold against me? We can go over my mistakes until we’re blue in the face, but that won’t fix them. The bottom line is this–Chey and I care about you and Presley. We want to see you both continue to—”
“What?” Aaron broke in, throwing up his hands. “Live our lives as you see fit?”
“Stay off drugs, if you want the truth, damn it!”
Aaron got to his feet. “I shouldn’t have come by.”
Dylan tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood up to follow him out. “Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but you have one hell of a chip on your shoulder. It’s time to grow up. Time to understand that I did the best I could. I was eighteen when Dad went to prison. Do you think I wanted to take his place? Hell, no! But I didn’t see anyone else who was willing to do the job. Were you going to do it? At fifteen?”
“Kiss my ass,” Aaron muttered, and that was all it took to snap Dylan’s restraint.
“Shit, you know how to enrage me like nobody else!” he roared, and smashed his fist through the wall.
Aaron felt his jaw drop. They’d gotten into some gnarly fights in the past, but he’d never seen Dylan lose control with so little provocation. This spat was minor in the overall scheme of their relationship. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit?”
“I don’t care if I am!” Dylan yelled. “You think you’re sick of a few things? Well, I’m sick of them, too—and tired of your damn resentment!”
Aaron didn’t respond. He just slammed the door on his way out.
It wasn’t until he was back at the rambler in the river bottoms where he’d grown up and still lived with his younger brothers that he cooled off enough to realize all the baby gear in the hallway and the stroller he’d seen at Dylan’s house were gone when he stormed out. Cheyenne hadn’t taken Wyatt for a walk; she’d taken him home to his mother.
* * *
When Cheyenne came back from bringing Wyatt to Presley’s and saw that Aaron’s truck was no longer parked in front, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“He’s gone,” she said into the phone. She’d used her cell to call Eve Harmon, whose family owned the B and B where they both worked, as soon as she left her sister’s. Eve was the only person in the world with whom she’d shared the truth about Presley’s baby. Even her other close friends didn’t know.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Eve said.
Cheyenne unzipped her coat. Thanks to the brisk walk, she wasn’t cold enough to remain bundled up. “At least now I won’t have to go back in and smile while we chat about Presley and Wyatt as if I’m not betraying my brother-in-law and my husband.” Because of Presley’s recent return, her name would definitely have come up if Aaron was still there.
“Are you sure Aaron has no clue that Wyatt is his?” Eve asked. “Or could it be that he suspects but prefers to leave the situation as it is?”
“I have no idea. I just know how hard it is for me to keep this a secret. Sometimes Wyatt’s paternity seems so obvious that I can’t believe Dylan hasn’t guessed.”
“Why would he? You told him Wyatt’s dad was some guy from Arizona, so he accepts it.”
She paused on the sidewalk. She didn’t want to go any closer to the house, didn’t want her husband to overhear what she was saying. “Is this you trying to make me feel better? Because pointing out how much he trusts me only makes me feel worse.”
“We’ve talked about this before. What else can you do?”
Dylan might be her husband but he was also Aaron’s brother, and for all the differences between the two men, they loved each other with the kind of ferocity that stemmed from surviving great hardship together. She had no doubt that Dylan would tell Aaron—eventually, if not right away. He wouldn’t be able to help seeing the situation from his brother’s perspective, just as she couldn’t help seeing the situation from her sister’s. She could plead with him, of course. Tell him that Presley had never had her life so together, that they couldn’t risk sending her into another tailspin like the time she’d run away from Whiskey Creek and gotten mixed up with a sadistic man. But that would only be effective for so long, until the loyalty he felt toward his brother prevailed.
“Maybe it would be different if Presley wasn’t a great mother,” Cheyenne said. “But she’s completely devoted to Wyatt. I feel terrible admitting this, but she’s done a lot better with him than I ever expected.”
“It would also be different if Aaron wasn’t so unpredictable,” Eve added. “But you have no way of knowing how he might react—whether he’ll be fair and reasonable or angry and overpowering.”
Cheyenne stared at the lights glowing from inside her own house. “He can be so large and in-charge. And he has more resources than Presley does. If they ever battled over Wyatt...” She shuddered at the thought. No one wanted to fight Aaron. But Presley would do just that. She’d never give up, not if she were fighting for her child. “How could I ever put my sister in that precarious a situation?”
“You can’t. Presley deserves some happiness. And she is happy these days, isn’t she?”
“Happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
“Then that’s proof you’re doing the right thing.”
“Still, if Aaron or Dylan ever find out...” She felt heartsick at the prospect, but she couldn’t open her mouth, couldn’t risk telling because of what it could destroy.
“You have to hope they don’t,” Eve said matter-of-factly.
“What a mess.” Someday what she and Presley were doing would not end well; the thought of that terrified her. “Anyway, I’m home now. I should go.”
“Okay.
