“Let… me… up!” Buddy shrieked and Hoot looked back down at him.

“Your car, your clothes, your house, chief, I get you think you’ll get whatever you want but, clue in, right now is not one of those times,” he stated.

“Fuck you,” Buddy spat.

“Lotsa money,” Hoot Booker muttered, still looking down at Buddy, “no class.”

My heart skipped a beat. Then it warmed.

That was when I heard sirens.

“Uh… um… Hoot?” I called and he looked at me.

“Yeah, darlin’,” he replied softly and I felt my nose sting but I fought back the tears.

“Well, just so you know, Gray doesn’t want me out there until he’s home so the cops are gonna be here soon but I won’t be out until he gets here. Just wanted you to know. Okay?”

“You give your man peace ‘a mind and do as he asks, Ivey. I’ll be good until he gets here,” my father assured me.

My father.

I smiled at him through the window and called, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful,” he called back.

My father.

It seemed this was going to be a family Christmas.

And, again, I couldn’t wait.

* * *

Nine fifty-seven in the morning, Christmas Eve…

I was ready by the time I saw Gray’s pickup truck speeding down the lane.

There were two uniformed officers outside in my yard wearing their big, bulky winter uniform jackets.

Buddy was up, his back still caked in snow and he was shouting, complaining and threatening.

Hoot Booker was standing removed, beefy legs planted wide and beefy arms crossed on his chest straining his jeans jacket with its sheepskin collar. His eyes were on Buddy and there was an expression on his face like he’d never encountered anything quite like him and, to save anyone else from doing it, he was struggling with the idea of crushing him like a bug.

The cops were staring at Buddy, clearly unhappy that what they’d hoped would be a laidback, Christmas Eve shift involved a run-in with the town’s most hated inhabitant.

As for me, to be ready for Gray’s arrival, I’d run upstairs to yank on my cowboy boots then back downstairs to pull on my jacket, wrap a scarf around my neck and tug a fitted, knit cap on my head down to my ears

What I couldn’t do was wrap my mind around the fact that the man outside was my father but I also couldn’t think about that just then.

I had to think about Gray.

So the minute his pickup turned in and stopped, I dashed through the living room and out the front door and I didn’t stop. I jumped off the porch and raced through the snow toward Gray.

And I knew with one look at him that the time it took for him to make his drive did not cool his anger. He’d been pissed when Casey came to call, angrier than I’d ever seen him.

Now, he was beyond enraged. I knew his control had snapped. He had not lied with what he said to me on the phone.

He was done.

And I needed to stop him from doing something he’d regret and something that might take him away from me.

I made it to him just as he viciously slammed the door on the old girl, the door making the usual creak but also the entire truck rocked ominously.

His eyes were riveted to Buddy, his face set in stone.

I put my hand to his gut. “Gray, baby, don’t. Take a minute. Calm down.”

Not tearing his eyes from Buddy, he put a hand to my chest and firmly but gently shoved me back, growling to no one in particular but to everyone except Buddy, “Keep her away.”

“Don’t, Gray!” I cried frantically, following on a rush as his legs swiftly closed the distance between him and Buddy.

He ignored me and stayed on target.

“You called my woman a slut?” he asked Buddy on a low, rumbling mutter and no one but no one could mistake his fury.

Buddy straightened and faced him down, informing him of something he could not miss, “You got a police presence, Cody.”

Gray’s hand which never left my chest gave me another shove. It was not violent but it was forceful. Forceful enough for me to fall back three feet and then Gray moved.

Fast.

Before I could launch myself back at him, two iron arms clamped around me and I shouted, “Gray!”

But he was on Buddy, hands in his jacket powering him back through the snow. Buddy, for some insane reason, didn’t read the threat and was not prepared. Then again, he likely never would be. Gray was fury unleashed and, except maybe Hoot Booker, no one there had experienced anything like it.

Two feet from the corner where the porch met the house, Gray shoved him off and Buddy staggered back and slammed in between the porch and the house.

Gray instantly took those two steps in.

“You called my woman a slut?” he roared in Buddy’s face.

“Gray!” I shrieked, fighting the arms around me and I vaguely heard Hoot Booker whisper in my ear. “Still, beautiful, let your man do what he’s gotta do.”

I didn’t calm. I strained as I watched Buddy try to slide out from in front of Gray but Gray’s arm slashed out and shoved him savagely right back into the corner so Buddy’s body thudded into the house. Buddy recovered and tried the other side but Gray moved fast, shoving him back in so hard Buddy almost went down to the porch. Buddy quickly righted himself, again tried the other side and again Gray kept him pinned with another body slam into the house.

Then Buddy aimed an upper-cut to Gray’s jaw, I whimpered but, again, lightning fast but still almost casually, Gray lifted a forearm and deflected the blow before his fist even came close.

Then he stepped in, chest-to-chest, nose-to-nose and rumbled quietly and terrifyingly, “You came to my home on my land when my woman was alone and you called her slut?”

“Step back, Cody,” Buddy demanded, tried to slide out from in front of Gray again but Gray just shoved him back.

“Fuckin’ answer me,” Gray ordered.

Buddy finally realized he was going nowhere so his eyes went beyond Gray to the two officers and he asked irritably, “Aren’t you gonna do anything?”

My head turned toward them to see one had his hands to his hips, the other his arms crossed on his chest, both of their eyes were on Gray and Buddy and neither moved nor spoke.

They weren’t going to do anything.

Buddy realized this too and went back to Gray.

“Step back!” he screeched.

“What is the matter with you?” Gray asked.

“Fuck you!” was Buddy’s answer.

Gray kept his face in Buddy’s and thundered, “What is the matter with you?”

“Get off!” Buddy shouted.

“What did I do?” Gray asked.

“Get off!”

“What the fuck did I do?” Gray repeated. “Fuckin’ decades, Bud, decades you played this game. Then you took my fuckin’ woman away from me. Seven years. Seven fuckin’ years, Bud. In that time, you got two girls. What did you take from Ivey and me? I’m marryin’ her next year but that house right behind you should have my kids in it by now and you took that away from her and me.”

At Gray’s words, Hoot Booker’s arms flexed powerfully around me but I kept my eyes glued to Gray and Buddy.

“Step the fuck back,” Buddy hissed.

“You diseased my trees, you poisoned my horses, you burned down my barn, you tried to take my land from me. Why? I don’t get it. Why the fuck would you do this sick, crazy, whacked out shit? What’s the matter with you? Give me one fuckin’ thing in the miserable time I’ve known you and explain to me what the fuck I did to you.”

“Just like you, the Great Grayson Cody, thinkin’ everything is about you,” Buddy sneered.

“You and I been livin’ in the same town at the same time all our lives but I don’t know you and you sure as fuck don’t know me so you don’t know you can say that kinda shit about me,” Gray shot back.

Buddy glared at him a second and then demanded, “Fuck off and let me pass.”

Buddy misinterpreted Gray seemingly calming down (a bit) because at his demand, Gray put his hand in Buddy’s chest and shoved him hard into the house. When Buddy’s body swayed back out, Gray did it again and his head slammed against the side.

Then Gray got nose-to-nose with him again and barked, “Explain this shit to me!”

“It’s not about you! It has not one fuckin’ thing to do with you!” Buddy shouted back. “It’s about the land!”

I stopped straining and stared in shock. Gray moved back three inches and did the same.

Buddy, though, now it was Buddy who was unleashed and he went wild.

Throwing his arms out then slapping his hand against the side of the house, he began.

“Since I could remember, all Granddaddy talked about was Cody land. Then my father went on and on and fuckin’ on about it. ‘Good neighbors but that sure is some damn pretty land.’” His last words, undoubtedly repeating his father, were sarcastic and biting. “And I took Granddaddy’s shit, I took Dad’s shit. Want me up on a horse. Want me muckin’ fuckin’ horseshit. Want me ridin’ the fences with the ranch hands. Want me out herding the cattle. Want me in the pens wrestlin’ fuckin’, filthy, stinkin’ calves. Fuck that. I got no interest in that. Do they care?” He shook his head. “No. ‘You’re a Sharp, Bud, quit pissin’ around and be a fuckin’ Sharp.’” More of Jeb Sharp’s words to his son coming out snide with his face twisted. “So I decided, he wouldn’t let me be me, he only would let me be what he wanted me to be, I’d be what I fuckin’ wanted to be and I’d see about taking what he most wanted. I’d sit in this house on this land with my family. A Sharp would be here but he’d know it would be me, he’d know this was all mine, he’d know I got what he wanted, what his Daddy wanted, what his Daddy’s Daddy wanted, I got. And it would be mine, not his and fuck him. Fuck him.”

“This shit is true, then why the fuck did you take Ivey from me?” Gray asked.

“You found a girl, got married, had children, you’re a Cody. If you had a family I’d never get you off this land.”

This was definitely true.

But Gray obviously didn’t believe it.

“This shit, Bud. It’s all bullshit. You targeted me.”

“Bonus, Gray,” he snarled. “Mr. Mustang, the Mighty Cody, everyone in town thinkin’ you control the sun and moon, call the tides. Made me sick watchin’ it, hearin’ it,” he leaned in, “livin’ that shit. Made me sick.”

“That’s it?” Gray asked incredulously and I thought strangely. “Controlling lives, breaking hearts, destroying property, killing animals for that shit?”

Oh. Well. I could see his point.

“Yeah, Gray, that’s it. You didn’t live my life. Your Daddy strutted through town makin’ damn sure everyone in it knew he thought you could control the sun and moon, call the tides, talkin’ you up so much, they believed it. My Daddy didn’t do that shit.”

“And this?” Gray went on. “Your visit today. What the fuck is this all about?”

“I ate that shit all my life, you don’t get to live free and easy. You don’t get your happily ever after. And neither does she,” Buddy answered on a sneer.

“So it is about me and it’s also about Ivey,” Gray stated.

Buddy glared at him and said nothing which meant yes.

“I don’t believe this,” Gray whispered.

“Believe it,” Buddy clipped.

“I don’t believe this shit,” Gray kind of repeated.

“Believe it!” Buddy shouted and Gray stood there, staring him down, silent.

Then he broke his silence.

“You’re pathetic,” he stated and Buddy blinked.

Then his face twisted again.

“Fuck you. You think I care what you think?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Gray answered. “I think you care too damned much about what everybody thinks.”

And there it was. Gray had another excellent point.

He also wasn’t done.

“I also think you’re weak. You wanted to be your own man? Bud, all you had to do was be your own man. Fuck, you got a college degree. You found a job that paid a shitload. You found a pretty wife. You gave her beautiful daughters. You put a nice house over their heads. But you’re so fuckin’ pathetic you didn’t see that you already showed your Dad. Instead you hurt people, including your wife and kids, to perpetrate some sick-ass shit so you could show everybody…” He trailed off then asked, “What? To show everybody what?” He didn’t wait for Buddy to answer, he just kept talking. “I don’t know. It’s so whacked I don’t get it. The only thing I get is that you are sadder and less of a man than I already thought you were and, Bud, that’s sayin’ somethin’ because me and the rest of Mustang thought you were lowest kind of person a person could be.”