King's Queen

by Marie Johnston

  “Subtle.”

  “But effective,” he agreed. “It’s actually been a real boon for our PR.”

  He parked at the farm store and we ran inside. There were no run-ins like with Poppy. He found the battery he needed and then we were on the road again.

  I relaxed in my seat and marinated in the efforts Aiden had gone to for me. Not just him, Gentry too. The sting of being the only one clueless about the trust was fading as the rest of Aiden’s family treated me as well as they had before.

  We approached Dawson’s pastureland but the dirt road Aiden turned onto wasn’t the one that would take us up to his brother’s place.

  At an approach, he pulled in. “I’ll open the gate. Want to drive through?”

  Curiosity hounded me, but I didn’t ask what we were doing. Aiden and spontaneous didn’t usually go together. I scrambled over to the driver’s seat. I had to sit on the edge to reach the gas pedal. Aiden swung the gate open, looking at odds with the landscape in his nice sweater and jeans, his winter coat hanging open. His boots were buried in the few inches of snow that hadn’t gotten blown away. He looked like a city guy in the middle of nowhere, but he’d been born and raised on this land.

  I pulled the pickup through, a thrill running through me as the engine roared with only minor pressure on the gas.

  I put it in park and scooted back to my seat. Aiden closed the gate and hopped back in.

  “Buckle up.” Anticipation ran through his expression.

  I looked at him, then out the window at the snow-covered landscape. We were at the top of a small hill where the snow wasn’t as deep. It wasn’t mud, but with this ride, it’d still be fun to tear through it.

  I buckled myself in. “Are you going to—”

  “Yep.”

  The pickup lurched and we were off. Laughter spilled out of me. Despite the seat belts, we were jostled around. I gripped the dashboard and the handle on the door as Aiden spun and floored the pickup around the hilltop. At one point, he hit an icy patch between two hills that must’ve been left over from a freeze-thaw cycle a couple of months ago and the pickup swung around.

  His laugh mingled with mine. Then he floored it back up the hill and we bounded to the top. He put it in park. We were both breathing faster even though the pickup had done all the work.

  “Wanna try it?” he asked.

  My mouth dropped open. “Can I?” I’d never been irresponsible behind the wheel. Ever.

  This was different. We were contained. The hills in this pasture rolled gently and there were no cattle here during the winter. Dawson didn’t move cattle out here until the spring.

  “Just stick to the high points. The snow gathers in the low areas. If you get stuck, I’ll gladly take the fall, but if you can prevent Dawson and the others from giving me eternal shit, I’d appreciate it.”

  I grinned and clicked out of my seat belt.

  “And, Kate.” His voice had dropped to the growl I was getting to know really well. He hooked his arm over the steering wheel to face me. I met his dark gaze. “When you’re done, I plan on having you again.”

  “Out here?” In broad daylight?

  “We’re so far out, not even cattle can see us.”

  “Then let me in the driver’s seat so we can get to the fun stuff.”

  Aiden

  * * *

  No matter how often I experienced it, I couldn’t believe how different Christmas morning was as an adult. Dawson put his most requested french toast bake in the oven on a timer, then he and Bristol went out to do chores. I joined him for a couple of hours, then came back and cleaned up.

  I was working at the table by the time he and Bristol returned. Kate was curled up on the couch, reading. She’d fashioned a book cover out of a paper bag to hide any illicit images. She’d gotten the idea from a craft project the library had offered teens for their own books and textbooks.

  Bristol and Dawson were still in their bedroom, so I peered over my computer. “Chicken.” When she looked at me, I lifted my chin to indicate her book.

  A faint blush dusted her cheeks, and her lips quirked. She slipped the cover off to reveal a shadowy image with a frightened-looking woman. “It’s a thriller I borrowed from Sophie and I wanted to protect the outside. I don’t just use them when my husband sends me books with naughty things on the front.”

  “Your husband might have to do that again.”

  Dawson’s bedroom door opened and he popped his head out. “You okay with a change in plans? More like a change in company. Grams.”

  We were all over twenty-nine and the trusts had been taken care of. I’d had the least trouble with Grams compared to anyone else, except maybe Xander, since he’d made sure to be unreachable. Bristol had taken the worst of it, so bad that I think Grams was even remorseful.

  I glanced at Kate. Confusion creased her forehead. She had no idea why it’d be an issue. I hadn’t told her about all of the drama.

  More like I’d told her and left pertinent facts out.

  “As long as you and Bristol are fine with it, it doesn’t matter to us,” I said.

  Dawson nodded and disappeared into his room, shutting the door.

  I caught Kate’s eye as she was about to go back to her book. “I need to tell you about what it was really like for my brothers with Grams before they turned twenty-nine.”

  Her mouth formed an O and she winced. “Right. The money would’ve gone to Danny and Bristol.” Her expression blanked and her gaze dropped to the page. “No wonder she immediately liked me.”

  “She likes you for more than that.” This was Grams though. “I mean, she wasn’t going to scare you off, but she likes you as much as she likes any of the rest of us in her cold, calculating way.”

  “You take after her.”

  I recoiled. “What?” I loved Grams, but at times, it seemed like I loved Grams because I’d grown up being told she was my grandmother, and grandkids loved their grandmothers. Not because she’d done anything to endear us to her. The months after Mama died, she’d softened for Dawson for a few weeks, but she’d told me to suck it up and help Dad with chores.

  “That wasn’t meant to be an insult.” She closed her book and set it down. She was at my side in seconds. She sat on the chair adjacent to me. “I meant that I think she holds her emotions so close, in such a tight ball, that we forget she’s a human with feelings.”

  I couldn’t help but remember Dawson telling us how Grams had collapsed after she confronted Bristol. Grams had been holding her emotions in until they’d exploded and hurt everyone, even herself. I’d equated Grams with steel until that point.

  Didn’t mean she was soft and cuddly now. “I don’t want to be like that.”

  “The Aiden I’ve been spending the holiday with isn’t.” She rubbed my thigh under the table. “But that doesn’t change that I loved you anyway.”

  “I love you, Kate. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  Dawson’s door opened and he and Bristol came out chatting about the prime rib meal he planned to cook for an early supper.

  Kate pulled away, probably to ask them how she could help.

  But before she got up, she said, “I don’t doubt it, Aiden. Not anymore.”

  Aiden

  * * *

  Kendall peered out the front window. “I hope the wind doesn’t pick up.”

  Dad walked up behind her and wrapped a hand around her waist. “There’s no new snow. The roads should be decent.”

  He and Kendall had arrived a few hours ago with Grams. She’d ridden with them and surprised the rest of us. Grams usually liked to drive her own vehicle out. That meant bringing her own escape route. Dawson had snapped a picture and sent one to Beck and Xander.

  As Grams had walked up the porch, Dad hovering behind her like he was ready to be a safety net because that was what a good son-in-law did, it struck me. Grams looked old. My indomitable grandmother with the cool gaze and bedrock of grit had a hunch to her shoulders I hadn’t seen before. Her silv
er bob was combed and sprayed in place like always, but the lines of her face seemed deeper, harsher. Like it wasn’t just that she battled against the natural progression of age and had lost, but that she’d stepped aside and given way.

  Now Grams was at the table with Dawson. They were poring over plans for Sarah’s Recovery Ranch. Bristol meandered back and forth between the table and the living area where I sat with Kate. Bristol and Grams weren’t close, but their relationship was a few steps better than merely tolerating each other.

  “I’d like to see it,” Grams said, her tone suggesting that they should go see the land now.

  Dawson lifted his gaze to Bristol and she nodded. “Anyone else want to go?” he asked.

  Grams probably wanted to be nosy. She hadn’t stepped foot on any Cartwright land for over forty years.

  When Dad saw that Kate and I weren’t moving to go, he answered for all of us. “You guys go on. It’ll be easier to take one vehicle.”

  The three of them went through the back door.

  Dad wandered over to us and dropped into a recliner, propping his elbows on his knees. “I’m not going to take up your holiday by talking work, but Kendall and I are trying to lay the groundwork for our meeting with the board next month.”

  Kate’s questioning gaze landed on me.

  A couple of months ago, I’d have told Dad that was fine and moved on, expecting the meeting to play out like they normally did, with Grams unwilling to change. I wouldn’t have elaborated with Kate in the room either. She’d have asked questions I hadn’t been willing to answer.

  I couldn’t act the same way I had before she’d asked for a divorce. “Kendall wants to ask the board to approve several more positions in the inner office,” I explained.

  Dad nodded. “We should have an inner floor, not just an office. We’re getting stretched too thin.”

  Kate frowned. “Emilia still doesn’t think you need more help? Wouldn’t the data speak for itself?”

  Kendall leaned against the chair, rubbing her hand up and down Dad’s shoulder. Seeing them like this, I marveled at how they kept their hands off each other at the office. Outside of work, they were an affectionate couple. “Our work ethic seems to speak louder. Three of us are doing the job of six, but it’s just not sustainable.”

  “Three new positions that correlate with the growth of the company shouldn’t be too much to ask.” I couldn’t be noncommittal, nor could I be neutral. But it was difficult being supportive when I didn’t want another VP under me again.

  Kendall grimaced. “We think we should ask for five. We need them. If you can get me that information, Aiden, we might have a chance.”

  I nodded. Dad didn’t take his gaze off me. If we were alone, I’d get a lecture. The only people who knew why I didn’t have a VP under me were Dad and Grams. Kendall probably knew too, since I doubted Dad kept anything from her, but she hadn’t been around when I’d fucked up.

  “It’d help to get that information before the board meeting,” Dad said evenly.

  I’d been stalling. If I had to reprioritize work, gathering that data moved lower. “I’ll get it.”

  Dad’s stare was unwavering. “For all the positions.”

  Kendall’s hand on Dad’s shoulder stilled, her gaze bouncing between us like she sensed the tension rising. It wouldn’t be hard.

  My jaw was tight and the beginning of a stress headache beat at my temples. “Are you asking as my boss, or as your assistant’s husband?”

  “I’m asking because it hasn’t escaped my notice that the battle to get more help in the office is a one-sided effort and it’s not us against Emilia. It’s been me and Kendall against Emilia. You haven’t committed to growing the company. It’s like you’re afraid of change as much as your grams.”

  “I’m not afraid of change, Dad,” I gritted out. “I just don’t need someone under me to add more work.”

  “It wouldn’t be more work if you hired someone you trusted.”

  “I trusted the last guy and look how that turned out.” Guilt gnawed at my chest.

  “You can’t control the economy. Sebastian made the best decision he could with the information he had.”

  “We have decades of elections and politics to research before we make the kinds of decisions he made to ramp up production. It wasn’t a surprise that state and country leadership would change. It’s not as if we didn’t have local, state, and national polls to evaluate before the election.” My heart rate climbed. Dad appeared as calm as if we were talking about how the roads had been on his drive here.

  “Exactly. And that was why he was fired.”

  “I should’ve been fired.” I jerked my gaze around the room. Everyone was staring at me. I’d never admitted it out loud, but I’d known it at the time. Dad had probably known it and refrained from pointing out the obvious. As the CEO, he’d taken the worst press. The dam had broken, so I kept going. “I was his boss. I should’ve verified his work before I signed off on it.”

  Dad pressed his fingertips together and I flashed back to my office when he’d had to tell me to suck it up and win my wife back. He’d been right then, but I’d had a front-row seat to the fiasco Sebastian had caused. I’d seen what Dad had to go through to restore the company’s reputation. I wasn’t risking it again.

  “By that logic,” Dad said with frustrating calmness, “I should’ve been fired several times since I started. My first years as CEO, I should’ve been fired a few times a year. Mistakes are part of the job. If the people under us can’t do their job, they’re reprimanded or fired. But that doesn’t mean we just don’t hire anyone else and continue to take on their work.”

  That was only part of the problem. Sebastian had overinflated production estimates and approved the hiring of hundreds more employees. When demand had dropped like a brick, he’d had to turn around and order a massive layoff less than a year later. Not only had it been PR hell, but we’d had families on national news, telling their stories of how they’d uprooted their life to move to Montana or North Dakota and then been abandoned with no job.

  The media had been out for blood, and Sebastian had been the sacrifice. It would’ve mollified the public more if I’d been fired. I was higher up the chain than Sebastian, but I was also the son of the CEO and the grandson of the board president. Grams and Dad had steered the company through it while I’d crunched numbers trying to minimize the damage.

  It had been a bad look. I’d kept my job. Dad had traveled the world, suffering dog and pony shows to keep King Oil in good standing with our investors, suppliers, and purchasers. I’d doubled down—tripled down—on my work. I’d been a perfectionist before, but to avoid becoming a micromanager, I micromanaged myself.

  “Regardless,” I said tightly. “If that’s one of the benefits, then I need to earn it.”

  Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aiden. You don’t have to work yourself into the ground. Trust our team to find someone who can do a good job.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s not what Grams wants and I don’t know if challenging her right now is the best.”

  “What do you mean?” Kendall asked, confusion marring her features.

  “She’s not well.”

  Kendall frowned. “She seems fine.”

  “She’s not fine. When she was coming up the stairs, it looked like a stiff wind could knock her over.”

  “We can’t tiptoe around this because of her health,” Dad said. “If she can’t head up the board, then she shouldn’t be in the position.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “It’s business and if she insists on being in it, then she should be able to do the job.” He spread his hands like he was seeking our understanding. “The thing is, we can talk to her about our concerns about her health and how we’re worried she can’t handle the position and she’ll dig her heels in harder to prove us wrong, and it’ll be to the detriment of the company. You’ve heard all the reasons why she and DB changed the company name to my last na
me. It needed rebranding to distance it from her and DB.”

  I hated that he was right. Why couldn’t this be easy? “I’m not against asking for more positions, but I should be able to say whether or not I need a VP.”

  “At least an assistant?” Kendall’s tone bordered on pleading. “Surely you have minor tasks that you would be willing to trust someone with.”

  Kate’s gaze burned into me. She’d soaked up this conversation and was processing it but hadn’t said anything. What did she think?

  Grams would see the gap in equitable positions and assume I was in agreement with her. Worse, she’d try to support me. The reaction Dad was afraid of would happen regardless. But they were determined, and in the end, I’d been ordered by my boss. “I’ll get you the information.”

  Dad’s dark gaze ripped through my placating promise. His jaw worked. Was he going to call me on it? Were we going to burn more of Christmas and argue about the subject and then grow awkwardly silent when Grams returned?

  “Okay,” was all he said. He sucked in a deep breath and looked around. “Think Dawson will get angry if I check on that prime rib? The smell is making my stomach growl.”

  “We won’t do anything more than peek.” Kendall followed him into the kitchen.

  I glowered at the carpet. Kate hadn’t said a word the entire time. Had Dad made a point to discuss this situation around her? He was a crafty bastard, and Kendall was just as cunning.

  Kate would have questions. She’d want explanations. If only my reasons sounded as strong now as they had before she’d asked for a divorce.

  Kate

  * * *

  Our agreement not to exchange presents hadn’t stopped Aiden from calling in a favor with Dawson. In the back seat was a box with half a dozen homemade jumbo double chocolate chip muffins.

  Those things were going to ruin me. I just knew it. My brother-in-law baked as well as he cooked. I’d never be able to eat another jumbo store-bought muffin without tallying all the ways it didn’t live up to Dawson’s.