Big Sky Wedding by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

center of the kitchen, with his laptop open. It was time to do a little research on child-rearing. “Anyway, there’s a lot to be done around the place, as you’ve probably noticed.”
    Nash dragged back the second folding chair, which completed the dining ensemble, and fell to the seat with a sigh. “It’s not so bad,” he said, taking Zane by surprise. Had the kid actually said something civil? “Anyway, beggars can’t be choosers. That’s what my mom always tells me. When I can find her, that is.”
    “You’re not a beggar, Nash,” Zane said, looking up from the computer screen, which indicated that he had a shitload of emails waiting for him. A daunting prospect, since at least eight of them were from his ex-wife, Tiffany. Tiffany. What had he been thinking, marrying that woman-child? Maybe he’d give her the monumental water bed; God knew, she’d get plenty of use out of it, and maybe even sleep once in a while. “You’ve had a run of hard luck, that’s all. It happens to the best of us.”
    “With me, it’s a lifestyle,” Nash said, leaning back indolently, though his eyes were alert for any sign that trouble might be about to land on him like a cougar dropping out of a tree.
    “You could look at it that way,” Zane replied, “if you were inclined to feel sorry for yourself. You’ve had it tough, but so have lots of other people. What matters is where you go from here, what you do next. When you get right down to it, it seems to me, almost everything hinges on what attitude you decide to take.”
    Nash widened his eyes, and his mouth had a scornful set to it. “What are you—some kind of rah-rah motivational speaker now?”
    “I’m your brother. You can keep up the act for as long as you want, but it’s basically a waste of energy, because, trust me, I can outlast you.” Zane paused, letting his words sink in. “Also, I know a thing or two about having a no-account for a father myself, as it happens. And that means I understand you better than you think I do.”
    Nash’s face, so like his own and, for that matter, like Landry’s, too, hardened in all its planes and angles. Once the boy grew into himself, he’d be a man to be reckoned with.
    “Dad’s not a no-account,” he retorted coldly.
    “You have a right to your opinion,” Zane answered. “And I have a right to mine.”
    Nash slammed one palm down hard on top of the rickety table, causing the dog to jump in alarm. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
    “Exactly what it sounded like it meant—you have a right to your opinion. Mine happens to differ a little, it would seem. And don’t scare the dog again—he’s been through enough as it is.”
    “Dad’s made a few mistakes, but he’s not a bum,” Nash said, but he lacked conviction. The sidelong look he gave Slim was genuinely remorseful. “Sorry, boy,” he muttered, under his breath.
    “He is what he is.” Zane spoke in a moderate tone, but no power on earth could have gotten him to make Jess Sutton out to be more than he was. The man was good-looking, charming to the max and absolutely useless in the real world, an overage Peter Pan.
    “You sound just like Landry,” Nash accused, flaring up again. “Both of you are full of yourselves, the high and mighty movie star and Mr. Moneybags. I couldn’t believe the things Landry said, right to Dad’s face!”
    “Guess that’s better than saying them behind his back,” Zane observed diplomatically. “Maybe you had a different experience with the old man than Landry and I did, growing up. We saw him every few years, when he needed a couch to sleep on between wives and girlfriends. When he did have a few bucks in his pocket, it was only because one of his scams had finally panned out, and he sure as hell never shared it with Mom.”
    Nash sat stony-faced and still. They were at a standoff, obviously, neither one of them willing to take back anything they’d said, though Zane, for his part, was