Chapter 2
Dusty
I'm not usually the type to drown my sorrows. Honestly, I don't have many sorrows to drown. I'd say I have exactly one, so there's never been much need for heavy drinking. But that single sorrow hits hard—especially today.
Because today, she was getting married.
She'd invited me. Well, she'd invited my mom. The envelope read *Aggie Tucker and Family*. The "and family" part likely included my little sister, Greer, even though she doesn't live around here anymore. It certainly didn't include me, which was probably for the best.
I didn't think I could do it—sit in a church pew and watch her walk toward her future with another man. Actually, I knew I couldn't. So here I was, tucked into the corner of a bar, drinking bourbon and doing exactly what I swore I wouldn't.
It was dark inside the Devil's Boot. There weren't any big windows, and most of the light came from the neon signs scattered throughout the room. I'd talked Joe, the bartender, into letting me keep a bottle and a glass at my table so I wouldn't have to get up from my spot. It hadn't taken much convincing. He knew why I was here. Everyone knew Cam and I had history. There were no secrets in Meadowlark.
Pathetic. I was pathetic. With the way I was feeling, you'd think Camille Ashwood had broken my heart this morning—not more than a decade ago. Well, for the first time. She'd broken it a million times since then, too, and time never did what it was supposed to do: heal, or whatever.
Cam was an open wound, and time was salt.
I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip. It was only my second or third drink. I apparently sucked at drowning my sorrows.
I needed to get better at it, because my stupid head wouldn't quiet down. It was shouting at me to go, to do something—to run to the church or run away. I didn't know which, so I did neither.
It could have been a minute or an hour when I heard the front door open. My eyes swung toward it; it hadn't opened once since I arrived. Probably because it was three o'clock on a Saturday afternoon.
I saw a white dress and dark hair. It couldn't be her. I blinked a few times, thinking this weird fucking hallucination would vanish. I shook my head, trying to shake her right out the door, but she didn't go. She was still there, in her white dress.
What the hell was she doing here?
I looked down at my watch. She should be married by now—was she married by now? Were they coming here after the wedding? I couldn't imagine Rutherford and Lillian Ashwood would be too pleased about that. And if they were coming here, Teddy would've told me. She knew all about the drowning-sorrows plan and where those plans were taking place.
Cam looked… beautiful. Like she always did. But her curly hair was straightened, and the dress looked like it was drowning her—there were too many layers. The look on her face made me want to track down Greg or Graham or whatever the hell his name was and kick the shit out of him. What happened?
I waited for her eyes to scan the bar and inevitably land on me, but they didn't. She went straight to the counter and sat down. She dropped the long, white veil she was dragging behind her onto the floor.
Joe looked at her with wide eyes as she settled onto the stool, but he knew better than to say anything. She spoke to him, and he filled a glass with ice and clear liquid. I couldn't see what it was—vodka, probably—and slid it across the counter. Her fingers gripped the glass as she picked it up and drank nearly half of it in one go.
She didn't even flinch.
It took effort to turn away from her, but I needed a second. Plus, I was probably the last person she wanted to see. Judging by the vodka, the wedding dress, and the absence of the groom, I was starting to think the wedding hadn't happened.
Or maybe it had happened, and it was shit?
But what if it hadn't?
I looked down at my hands resting on the table. They started to shake, and I balled them into fists to make them stop.
My phone lit up on the table, and I quickly picked it up. I saw a message from Teddy, and more were coming. She could never send just one text. I'd always seen Teddy as another sister; now that my mom and her dad were together, that was truer than ever.
Teddy: Dusty fuckin' Tucker
Teddy: WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABOUT LATER
Teddy: SOMETHING DRAMATIC HAPPENED
Teddy: Are you at DB?
Teddy: Has a beautiful woman wearing a very expensive white dress shown up? We can't find her.
Shit. Cam was a runaway bride. But why did she come here? I typed out a quick response.
Dusty: She's here.
Teddy: Gus is coming.
Teddy: DON'T INVADE HER SPACE.
Teddy: SHE'S HAD A ROUGH DAY.
Teddy: (but I have so much to tell you)
Dusty: Haven't talked to her. She hasn't seen me.
What would she do if she did? Run in the other direction? She'd been damn good at avoiding me for the past year since I came home, and in a town like Meadowlark, that took a lot of effort.
My thoughts flashed back to when I saw her last year—for the first time in years. Emmy, Teddy, Ada, and Cam were having some girls' night. I walked in on it, and there she was.
And she was wearing my Margaritaville T-shirt. I'd given it to her the summer after high school. It had been in the back of my truck after we went swimming, and she'd needed something to wear. I had completely forgotten about it until I saw her wearing it that night.
It put ideas in my head—about what coming home meant for me. And then, I looked down and saw the giant rock on her ring finger.
Hopes: dashed.
Whatever. It was fine. I was fine. It was stupid to think that the girl I'd loved would be a woman waiting for me—I knew that, but it didn't hurt any less.
The door to the bar swung open a while later. This time, three men came through. Gus and Wes Ryder, and Luke Brooks.
Gus called out for Cam, and her head shot up toward him. She looked like she'd just been caught doing something she shouldn't have, which made more sense when I saw the bottle of vodka clutched in one of her hands.
I smiled.
She made her way through the bar while Gus tried to stop her. She stumbled over her dress a few times before making it to the bathroom, where she slammed the door.
Brooks looked up, his eyes scanning the bar. When he saw me, he turned to say something to Gus before making his way over to where I was sitting.
"Hey, man," he said with a nod. Brooks cleaned up nice in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down.
"Hey," I said. My voice cracked a little—nice. "What's going on there?" I gestured toward the bathroom door, where both Gus and Wes were knocking. I tried to be nonchalant about it but knew I probably failed.
Brooks shook his head. "Groom didn't show." My mouth fell open. At his words, I felt my ears get hot.
"Seriously?" I asked. Who the hell doesn't show up when they're getting married to a woman like that? What a fucking idiot. Talk about dropping the ball.
"Seriously," Brooks said. "It's safe to say the wedding is off." My heart kicked against my rib cage. "Gus and Amos handled almost everything, but Cam's parents are pieces of work." I already knew that. Rutherford and Lillian sucked—they always had. They probably always would.
"Where's Riley?"
"With Teddy and Emmy. Leaving her with them was the only way we could guarantee that they wouldn't hunt Graham down and kick his teeth in." They would, too. Emmy and Teddy weren't a duo you wanted to mess with—especially if they had a common goal. If they had their hearts set on ruining that guy's life, it'd be done by tomorrow.
"Shit," I breathed.
"Shit." Brooks nodded. I looked over at the bathroom door again. Gus was still knocking, but Wes was making his way over to us.
"I don't think she's coming out," he said.
"She's not," I said. Cam was stubborn, and she didn't like to be at the center of everything. She liked the outskirts. The way people would rally around her now would probably make her uncomfortable—even though she deserved people showing up for her. That didn't matter, though. Cam would prefer to disappear.
She probably wouldn't leave the bathroom until the bar was empty. Like, totally empty.
"I know how to get her out," I said to Brooks. "But we've gotta clear this place. She won't come out with all these people around. Can we do that?"
Brooks nodded and called over to Gus and Wes, who started walking toward us. "Dusty has an idea," he said as they approached.
Gus narrowed his eyes at me—always the protector. Gus Ryder was a good man. I idolized him growing up and still looked up to him more than he knew. "What's your plan?"
"She doesn't want to face any of these people here," I said. "And she definitely doesn't want to see any of you." Wes deflated a little bit at that.
"But she'll want to see you?" Gus asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"Probably not," I said. "But I'm the only one out of the four of us who wasn't at the, uh, wedding." I stumbled over that word but hoped they didn't notice.
"Why does that matter?" Gus asked.
"It just does." I shrugged. Because in Cam's mind, it meant that I was the only one who hadn't witnessed her embarrassment. Cam was a prideful woman—not in a bad way. She just cared what other people thought of her—she wanted to be perfect. I blamed her mother.
"I think we should let Dusty try," Wes piped up.
"Me too," Brooks said.
"Is that because you care about Cam or because you want her out of your bathroom?" Gus asked with a glare in his direction.
"Both." Brooks shrugged.
Gus rolled his shoulders back and down. "Fine," he said, and then pointed a finger at me. "But you keep your hands to yourself."
I rolled my eyes. He and Teddy really were perfect for each other, weren't they? "Cam is my friend," I said. Well, she used to be. I didn't know what we were now. Maybe once we got everybody out of the Devil's Boot, I'd be able to find out.