Neil still felt as if something had crawled inside him and died, but at least the pounding in his head had dimmed to something he could live with after swallowing a couple Advil. He’d cleaned up the barn, showered to remove the stench of old whiskey that seeped from his pores, and grabbed some of the leftovers stuffed in the fridge from the wedding feast. There were deviled eggs, and he’d used some of the roast beef to make a sandwich.
The kids were fussy, and with Jed and Brad the only two home to look after them, the house had quickly become a disaster. The kitchen was scattered with dirty dishes, leftover food on plates, and the kitchen table still held the remnants of the kids’ breakfast. Brad and Jed appeared cranky and ready to snap, and while Neil pulled on his black leather coat,
