Chapter 2

A blast of wind whipped through the gathering and Wade shivered, shifting on the uncomfortable chair. Shit. Let’s get on with it.

For the first time that day, he allowed his gaze to take in the elegant wood and brass coffin set up next to the mobile podium. “Flashy.”That’s what his father would have said. “No need to spend good money on somethin’ goin’ in the ground.”God, Wade could hear his voice in his head as plain as day.

Heads turned when Reverend Thompson moved toward the front. The elderly man’s slow, shuffled steps reminded Wade of one of those large, ancient tortoises. What little conversation there had been among the guests ceased as he faced the crowd. “It’s wonderful to see so many souls here to honor this man, too early taken from us,” he announced, gesturing with both arms. “Clearly, he was incredibly loved.”

Wade tried not to grimace. Did this man know his father at all? Casey’s elbow nudged his ribs and Wade furrowed his brow until he saw his brother pointing at the hat he still wore. He removed his Stetson and noticed a few guests following his lead as his gaze swept the surrounding rows.

Reverend Thompson droned on from the podium—or was it called a “pulpit” in a religious ceremony?He shook his head, not really caring one way or the other. It appeared the reverend was going to be long-winded and Wade settled in, trying to keep his mind focused on the words, but the man’s monotone voice was going to put him to sleep.

The reverend was yammering on about life and the importance of choosing a righteous path when he paused to look directly at Wade for a moment before continuing on about the evil ways of the world.

Wade shook his head. If the man was trying to poke the bear through thinly veiled insults, he would need to work much harder—Wade had heard much worse from his own father.

Kenneth Dwyer had ruled with an iron fist, never letting his three boys forget he’d raised them alone when their mothers had abandoned them. Seeing as his and Casey’s mother had passed away when Wade was only two and Casey was five, he’d always felt his father had been a little loose with the definition of “abandonment.”

As a child, Wade had questioned him once about that and his father’s answer had burned him to his soul. The memory of sitting at the kitchen table, drinking milk from his favorite blue cup flashed through his mind. He’d been listening to his father rant about how mothers were worthless and abandoned their children—a favorite topic of his.

“But she died,” he’d said to his father. “She didn’t wantto leave us and go to heaven,” he’d insisted, confused by what he’d been told. His seven-year-old mind refused to believe what he was hearing.

“Don’t be na?ve, son,” he’d said, gesturing around the room with his bottle of beer as he sat directly across from Wade. “She would still be here, in this kitchen, if she’d fought harder. If she really wanted to be a mother, she would have been a stronger woman and not allowed death to take her. She just didn’t love you or Casey, son, and that’s the truth of the matter.”

Wade had wanted to cry, but knew, even at that young age, tears would just anger his father, so he’d fought them and drank his milk. But in his heart, he knew his father had been wrong.

Unfortunately, the man had been right about Landon’s mom. His father’s second wife had taken off just before Landon turned one. The thought of her made Wade wonder if she’d heard the news about her ex-husband—not that anyone knew where she was.

As he shifted in the uncomfortable seat, trying once again to focus, he caught a flash of green out of the corner of his eye and turned his head. Wade’s gut clenched and his breath caught in his throat the moment his gaze landed on Lance Matthews, currently escorting a beautiful woman in a green and black flowy dress. Wade’s eyes narrowed as he watched them slide into two empty seats he hadn’t noticed earlier. Casey must have saved them for Lance. Not wanting to be caught ogling, Wade tore away his gaze and focused on the hat in his lap.

Not surprisingly, his heart raced as he tried to pull himself together. He hadn’t expected Lance to be at the service.

Damn. Why does he have to look so good after all these years? And why the fuck is he here?

Casey nudged him with his elbow again and Wade pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t need his big brother to remind him how to act at a funeral. He was twenty-four, for fuck’s sake. His irritation dissipated at hearing the reverend ask Casey to step up to the podium, reminding Wade this was hardest on his older brother than any of them. He patted him on the arm as Casey rose from his seat and made his way to the front.