Page 146 of Wyatt
Sally nods. “I’m sure. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
“Okay.”Okay.
My God, I feel so much better than just okay.
“You look beautiful, by the way. Love the dress. But love you more.”
John B clears his throat. Every head swings in his direction.
That’s when I see that he’s crying, tears streaking down his cheeks. My chest contracts.
“I believe I owe y’all an apology.” He sniffles. “I didn’t—I assumed the worst about all of you, and I’m sorry.”
Sally gives him a look. “Dad, you pulled a fuckinggunon my boyfriend.”
John B’s voice wavers when he says, “I wasn’t gonna actually shoot anyone. Safety’s still on, see?”
He holds up the rifle, the floodlights glinting off its polished barrel. I let out a breath when I see that the safety is—my God—indeed engaged.
Cash steps forward and holds out his hand. “I’d still like to take it, please.”
“I’m sorry.” John passes my brother the rifle, then covers his face with his hands. “I’m so, so sorry, honey. You’re right. I should’ve trusted you. I didn’t understand—I only wanted the best for you. I was trying to save you from having the regrets I do. I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m sorry.”
Sally glances up at me. “Are you okay, Wy?”
“Not gonna lie. I’m a little shaken. For a second there, I thought…well…”
“I promise I wasn’t gonna shoot,” John says. “Did you not see the safety was on?”
I shake my head. “Too dark.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“But I do feel better now that I know it was on,” I say. “Still not right what you did, John.”
He scoffs. “Of course it wasn’t right. I just—y’all gotta understand how my regrets have eaten away at me over the years. I never want my daughter to have to wonder about what-ifs.”
Sally’s expression softens ever so slightly. “I’d wonderwhat iffor the rest of my life if I took the job in New York, Dad.”
“I see that now.”
“Do you really?” Sally presses. “Because if you ever pull a gun on my boyfriend again, even if you don’t mean to shoot?—”
“I promise, Sally.” John’s voice breaks. “I understand. I’m sorry, and I’ll keep saying I’m sorry until you believe me.”
Sally looks at him for a long beat before she turns to my brothers. “And y’all? Are you guys okay?”
They nod.
Dropping my hand, Sally moves toward her dad. I hold my breath, half expecting her to slap him, give him another verbal dressing-down at the very least.
Instead, she pulls him in for a hug. “You have a lot of work to do on yourself, Dad,” I hear her murmur.
“I know,” he replies. “I’ll do it. I promise you, honey, I’ll do better.”
Mollie claps her hands. “All right, y’all. No one is dead, and Sally and Wyatt are gonna ride off into the Texas sunset together. I think this calls for a celebratory drink.”
“Or five,” Sally says. “I’ve got a pitcher of bourbon sours back at the house if anyone’s interested.”