I walk straight up to him. "You need to drop your gun," I say, "and you need to drop it now."
Abby shakes her head. "He'll shoot you," she says. "Don't do something you're gonna regret. Don't do it for me."
"Don't do something I would regret?" I say. "Not fighting for you, that would be the regret."
"Get away from her," her father shouts. "She's not yours."
"Well, she's not yours either," I say. "She's her own person."
Just then, Rye rushes forward. Rueben and Mac dive too. I grin, realizing what they're doing: creating a fucking distraction. They all shout, screaming at the same time, "Drop the gun!"
It scares Ricky because he didn't see it coming. These three Rough men diving, rolling in the middle of the road toward him. Reuben wraps an arm around his neck. Mac reaches for a wrist. Rye, though, is the one who is attempting to disarm him. And when he does, Ricky moves his hand. And while the gun is no longer pointed at Abby, it’s suddenly pointed at me.
I try to roll away, to dodge the goddamn bullet, but it clips my shoulder. As it hits me, I fall to the ground, the burst of pain blinding me as my knees buckle. As my hand instinctively presses to my shoulder, blood saturates my hand. Ricky's bullet hit me.
Rye takes action, making sure Ricky's hands are behind his back. He's taken to the ground by all four of my brothers and he's sure as hell not going anywhere.
Abby, she runs to me, wrapping her arms around me. And for a moment, I think her father is going to get away scot-free, but Mac realizes that at the exact same time. They jump that old man the same way we demolish my mother's Thanksgiving dinner: fast and furious.
Abby kisses me, her hands on my cheeks. "Oh my God. We have to get you to the hospital. I can't believe Ricky shot you."
We hear the roar of the sirens. Graham is here arresting and handcuffing both the men and I’m loaded onto a gurney. Abby’s crying as she realizes what's happening.
"I'm just going down the block," I tell her. "And it's a shoulder wound. I'll be fine. Hell, you hardly complained when this happened to you."
"You were hit by a bullet. It's a lot worse than what happened to me."
"Hey, speaking of," Graham calls out, "we just found those thugs, that was what took us so damn long to get here. They jumped another girl in Burly." Then he grins. "Ha, funnily enough, which I know, Abby, it might be a bit too soon to joke about, your father and this man might be sharing a cell tonight with those fools who thought they were gonna have a piece of you."
"Me showing up in this town caused a lot of trouble," she says.
I shake my head, taking her hand. If I'm going in this ambulance, this woman is coming with me. "No," I tell her, "you showing up in this town means you came home. You came home for good."
14
ABBY
One week later…
Since Plum didn't gether circus trip last week, she asked if everyone would come with a circus act before Sunday dinner. We all agreed because telling Plum no is out of the question. Not because we're wrapped around her a little finger, but well, okay, scratch that. Every single member of the Rough family is wrapped around this five-year-old's finger with good reason.
Not only is she adorable and sweet as can be, but she is also full of curiosity and there is something special in that. Something nobody wants her to lose anytime soon. Especially me.
My life has not been charmed like Plum's is. And I know she has had her fair share of loss, but there's a magic to her right now. Her eyes sparkle as she takes in her whole family here, setting up her circus. I am not sure what acts everyone is going to be performing, but everyone has been willing to play their part. Even her Grandpa Red is the circus master. He found a top hat and he's using Hijinx as his tiger.
I smile as I watch everyone gather around the front yard. Dinner's at 6:00, but we arrived at 3:00 so we could set up the circus for Plum. Even her great grandparents, Rosie and Reynold, have come out to see the show, which I think is pretty sweet. And her Great Uncle Filson and Great Aunt Ruby are here as well. The legendary Rowdy boys haven't come, but that's because they weren't invited.
When I asked Bartlett why they weren't allowed to come, he said, "No way. This is a kid's show. Those boys are way too wild for a circus set for a five-year-old."
Not understanding what that meant, I dropped it and focused instead on making sure my act wasn't going to be a mess. I haven't walked a tightrope in quite a while, and I've never performed for an audience that meant so much to me.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Redford Rough calls, gathering his family around to the front porch. Everyone is sitting on blankets or Adirondack chairs or on the steps of the big, wide, porch. "I would like to welcome you to the first ever Rough Family Circus, not to be confused with our traditional Thanksgiving Rough Family Talent Show."
I look over at Lemon. "You guys have a family talent show?"
She nods. "Oh yes. Thanksgiving tradition, and you cannot skip a performance."
"Good to know," I say, smiling, laughing really, and wondering if I’ll be lucky enough to share Thanksgiving with this family one day. I'm not one who makes risky bets, but God, I would go all in with these people because they are the only family I want.