Rustler's Heart (A Kinnison Legacy Novel) by Amanda McIntyre

pressure on my chest lifted and I saw the blood…so much blood.
    I still held my mom’s hand, but I couldn’t see the rest of her body. It was somewhere beneath the massive front tire of the truck. I screamed her name and tasted the blood running down my cheek from a cut on my head. But I gripped her hand tight.
    “No. No, you’re going to be okay. I love you, Mom.” I felt her fingers squeeze my hand, and then it went limp. I must have blacked out after that, because I woke up in the hospital and my Uncle Jed said that I’d be coming to live with him from now on.”
    Rein quietly folded the paper and tucked it between the journal’s pages. His chest ached. Rubbing his hand over his heart, he looked through the open framework of the window and watched the sunset in the western sky. His eyes stung with fresh tears.
    That day changed him. And while Jed had been the best father figure a guy could ever hope for, he wasn’t his dad. Despite counseling, and the years that had passed since the accident, Rein still carried a residual guilt. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids and felt nauseous. Old feelings stirred in his gut. How could he have known it would be the last time he’d see them alive?
    “Hey man, Wyatt’s just about got the steaks done.” Dalton walked through the open shell of a front door and looked around. Rein was supposed to be setting the posts for the kitchen wall. “You feeling okay?”
    Rein nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be good in minute.”
    Dalton’s gaze darted to the journal. There’d been a number of times over the years that Rein had tried to get through the letter without shoving it and his memories aside. Today had been the first time he’d managed to get through to the end. The outcome, like the guilt, remained the same.
    Dalton regarded him carefully. “You read it, didn’t you?”
    Rein went about re-wrapping the strip of leather around the book. He nodded.
    “It doesn’t get any easier, I know. But Rein, it wasn’t your fault, man.”
    Rein tossed the journal in his workbag, effectively shoving the entire episode the back of his mind. He blew out a deep breath, no longer that scared little boy who’d come to live with his Uncle Jed. “Come on, I’m starving. This might well be one of our last decent meals while those two are off on their honeymoon, unless one of us learns how to cook.”
    Dalton laughed, seeming to understand his need to let the topic remain where it should—in the past. They walked shoulder to shoulder up the lane to the main house. “With any luck, Liberty can share in the cooking,” Dalton remarked “Then again, there’s always Betty’s café.”
    Rein figured he’d put his money on take out from Betty’s, pretty certain that right now. Liberty would prefer to poison him.

 
     
     
Chapter Six
     
     
    “I’d like to propose a toast.” Dalton stood at the end of the massive picnic table Rein had made years ago when he’d first discovered his love for furniture making. Made of cypress, it accommodated up to a dozen people comfortably. Two long benches with short backrests ran the length of the table on either side, with matching single chairs at opposite ends. In its day, Jed had hosted many steak fries for his ranch hands. Not until recently had they resurrected as a gathering spot for family and friends.
    “So you think that one wedding toast makes you a pro at this now?” Wyatt joked as he dropped his arm over the backrest behind Aimee.
    A smile lifted the corner of Dalton’s mouth. “A toast to Aimee,” he said, raising his beer bottle. “To the woman who has brought new happiness to our family, first by rescuing my sorry-ass brother….”
    Wyatt quietly lifted his hand behind his wife and flipped Dalton off.
    “And by giving us more happiness to look forward to.”
    Wyatt raised his glass of lemon water, joining his wife in abstaining from beer.
    “Why Dalton Kinnison, I believe that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you