King's Country (Oil Kings Book 4)

by Marie Johnston

  I missed Dawson every second of every day, but I remembered to eat when I was supposed to. I had even cooked a small meal in my RV. Spaghetti didn’t take much, but it had tasted better than something out of a can.

  The Fourth of July was tomorrow. Taya and Emma had tried to talk me into going to the concert after the fair closed and staying for the fireworks. Some country singer I’d heard on the radio was performing, but I didn’t care if I ever heard them again, much less saw them in person. I hadn’t committed.

  Dawson and I had planned to go to the fair with his family and I hadn’t heard from him since the day I’d chased him out of my shop. I hadn’t seen increased traffic at his place—not that I’d caught myself staring across the pasture that separated our houses one or a hundred times. I doubt they’d come up for the weekend.

  Two weeks. Felt like months.

  I hadn’t gotten any new messages from him. The fences were strong, so there was no need to contact me about my wayward cattle. I might have had fantasies about cutting a hole in the fence just to see if he’d message me or leave it to Tucker or Kiernan.

  That wasn’t all I’d fantasized about. Working all day by myself ran long. Hours and hours in my own head. Dawson centered in most of my fantasies. And that money. It was hard not to think about it.

  What would anyone do with that much money? What would I do with that much money? Move out of town? Build a fresh life where no one knew me?

  It wasn’t mine, didn’t matter. But it was natural to wonder. To ponder all the possibilities.

  The countdown to his birthday was on. Tomorrow. The town would spread word if he married, but if he didn’t, he was going to lose the trust in a matter of hours. Less than a day.

  Curiosity ate at me, but the hole it made wasn’t bigger than the one Dawson had left behind.

  I looked at my phone. It was early for lunch, but my stomach protested and I was hot and uncomfortable.

  I brushed out Bucket and put him into the pasture. Daisy barked and sped off. An engine rumbled moments later.

  As I crossed through the barn, I missed who was driving by. Daisy wasn’t going wild, so it could only be a handful of people.

  It hit me. People, as in more than one. Daisy was comfortable around multiple people. Shit might’ve happened between me and one important person, but I had others I was learning to count on.

  I exited the barn. The sun hit my eyes the same time I saw the pickup. Dawson shut his door and came straight for me.

  He wasn’t stopping. His strides were long and his expression determined.

  I frowned and fought the urge to retreat. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yep, but I’m here to change that.”

  His hard tone stalled me. Had I done something I didn’t know about? Were ten of my cattle romping through his yard? Damn, I’d just checked on them.

  He stopped close. We weren’t touching, but I had to look up at him. His hair was finger combed off his head. He hadn’t put on his hat yet. Wasn’t he working today? It was a holiday but he usually gave one of the other guys the day off.

  “I have to talk to you. Are you going to let me, Bristol Jane?”

  “I didn’t think you had anything left to say.”

  “I have a lot to say. But I wanted to make sure I had my shit together before I did.”

  Daisy raced around our legs, then shot for the barn, something else catching her eye. It was only me and Dawson in the middle of my drive.

  So he had his shit together. What did that mean? “Should we go inside?”

  “The money’s yours,” he blurted.

  “I’m not taking it.”

  He scowled and shoved his hand through his hair. “Dammit, that didn’t come out right. I mean, it’s what I wanted to say. But here—I want you to have the money. I’m not getting married. To anyone. And you’re getting the money. Then I’m going to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me. That way, if you say yes, it’ll be because you want to. It won’t be because of the money. It won’t be because you have to. Or because you don’t want the ranch to fold, so you need to marry money. You’ll be stinking rich. You won’t need me, or my help, or anyone’s help. You can buy what you damn well please and you’ll tell me yes because you’re in love with me, just as I am with you.”

  His words bombarded me. Information overload. My mind looped and rounded back on details until it snagged on one it couldn’t shake loose. “You love me?”

  “I was too afraid to say it when I knew I wasn’t being honest with you. I screwed up, and when my world exploded, you didn’t know how I felt.”

  “It’s been two weeks,” I whispered.

  “That’s because”—he flourished papers I hadn’t noticed were in his hands—“I had to get some arrangements made, and with a summer holiday, a lot of damn people were on vacation.”

  He swiped the paper off the top and held it out. I couldn’t concentrate to read it.

  “First, this is the trust. Simple. Defined.” He handed me the sheet and I numbly accepted it without looking. He shuffled another piece to the top. “And this is the letter stating that you’re receiving the trust. All our lawyer needs is your info. The account will be switched to your name and you can choose what you want to do with it. He listed several contacts who can help you decide. While I support doing business locally, I made sure he included people outside of King’s Creek. Which brings me to the rest of the reason why I took so long to come beg you to take me back.”

  Dawson King was going to beg me? I shook my head. Was hunger making all this hard to follow?

  “I changed banks. The King family no longer does business with Richard Lang.”

  My mouth dropped open. “But your grandparents helped that bank get off the ground.”

  “And maybe we’ll go back when Big Dick steps down.”

  “Dawson, that’s going to piss off a lot of people.”

  “Yep. It did. I also switched mechanics since Buck assaulted you. And there’s a new insurance agent that moved to town. I gave her a call and I think I made her year. With Samuel pissing all over his territory, she was afraid her firm would have to shut down the satellite office in King’s Creek.” His grin was lopsided. “Now, she won’t have to.”

  “Why? Why do all of this?”

  “I’ve coasted on my family’s name long enough. I can make a few waves. I don’t need everyone to like me, I just need you to love me.”

  “But the money . . .”

  “Is yours. I’m serious. I’m not touching it, so don’t let it go to waste. You can put it to better use than I can.”

  “You mean like a sobriety ranch?” I bit my lower lip. Oh, yeah. I’d fantasized about that too.

  His grin spread wider. “Exactly like a sobriety ranch.” He stepped closer. “You been thinking about how that would work?”

  “Maybe.”

  He dipped his head down. My chin lifted. We were painfully close but not touching. “You been thinking about me?”

  “All the time,” I answered raggedly. “What about your family?”

  “They’re on standby. The trip to the fair is still on if you’re willing to put up with us.” He brushed a finger down some stray strands of hair that evaded my standard ponytail. “I love you, Bristol Jane Cartwright. I don’t want to waste one more day, but I’m wasting today. Tomorrow, I’m asking you to marry me. Two weeks without you is too fucking much.”

  Sinking into him and forgetting all of my questions would be too easy. “Your grandma?”

  Concern rippled across his face. “I think she actually feels bad. Speaking what she’d thought all those years out loud made her face reality. You were a kid. Mama’s decisions weren’t yours, and Mama wouldn’t have changed what she did. That guy would’ve hurt you and your dad if he hadn’t broken into our house.”

  He cupped my face. “But I went to talk to her. I told her my plans and said that if she interfered, that would be the end of my relationship with her. I also told her not to ta
lk to me if she didn’t apologize.” Sorrow seeped into his gaze. “I don’t know if that’ll happen.”

  “You can’t burn relationships all over town because of me.”

  “If people don’t support you and me, us, then fuck ’em.”

  Happiness welled inside me. Was I scared? Hell, yeah. But Dawson and I had been through too much to think that we couldn’t work. “Dawson Preston King, I love you. And when you ask me tomorrow, I’m going to say yes.”

  He whooped and picked me up, whirling around as I laughed. He captured my mouth and strode toward my RV with me still in his arms. “I need to be inside of you.”

  “I’m dirty and sweaty.” Would it take too long to drive to his place and jump in the shower together?

  “Damn right. We’re both getting real dirty.”

  I giggled. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m going to lick every drop of sweat off you,” he growled.

  Paws scrambling on the gravel broke up the sound around us, but Dawson didn’t hesitate. “Sorry, Daisy. You’re going to have to wait out here for the rest of the afternoon. I’ve got some catching up to do.”

  Dawson

  The last day of July started out the opposite of how the month had begun. Two sections of chairs had been set up in the yard, just like we’d done for Aiden’s wedding and Dad’s. And like both of theirs, Bristol and I hadn’t invited a lot of people. My brothers and their wives were in attendance. Tucker and Kiernan. Emma and Taya. Jamie and the rest of the crowd that Bristol and I hung out with at Miller’s. Someone named Lizette, who had helped Bristol with her wedding gown.

  Grams sat with Dad and Kendall in the first row. Her chin was lifted, proud as ever, but the hostility was gone from her expression. The rigid tension that had sat like a rod strapped across her shoulders that last couple of years was gone too.

  The King–Cartwright feud was being laid to rest today. Grams’d had two choices. She could’ve missed the wedding. But she’d chosen to drive up a couple of nights ago and talk to Bristol and me privately. Her apology had been succinct, but the sincerest I’d heard from Grams. She’d said she was happy for us and she meant it, and she’d given us her blessing on what Bristol planned to do with the money. It wasn’t her choice and we hadn’t needed her permission, but Grams was Grams.

  My bride walked down the makeshift aisle, alone. Any of my brothers or Dad would’ve escorted her down the aisle, but she wasn’t anyone’s girl to give away.

  My grin widened as she got closer. She bit the inside of her lip but ended up grinning at me. Our unspoken exchange was about one thing. The dress.

  The biggest drama about today had been what she was going to wear.

  I’ve never worn a damn dress in my life had been heard several times, in several tones. I’d caught hints of despair. Then a pissed-off attitude at people’s expectations. And finally, excitement that she could pick whatever the hell she wanted, and she could afford it.

  I didn’t care what she wore. As long as she said I do, I was a happy man, and I’d be happier when I stripped her out of it. To give her something to strip me out of, I’d ordered a tux.

  Her gown was simple, a little lace diamond pulling the material tighter at her waist. A long V-neck with a softly flowing skirt, the dress hugged her body in all the best places. The cream color brightened under the sun and gave her an ethereal glow. Her long red hair shone in one long wave over one shoulder, and she’d even put on a touch of lip gloss I planned to kiss off as soon as we were pronounced man and wife.

  This woman. My wife.

  I’d never been so nervous in my life. So elated. So happy.

  We breezed through our vows. As soon as the words You may kiss the bride drifted in the wind, I wrapped my arms around Bristol and claimed her. My brothers’ whoops mingled with the ones from Bristol’s friends.

  I released my wife from my kiss but didn’t let her go. I gazed at the intimate crowd of family and friends and said, “Let’s eat!”

  The next few hours were filled with laughter. We hadn’t planned a large reception, or a dance. The only music Bristol wanted at the wedding was the mooing of the cows in the pasture with the occasional whinnies of the horses. Bucket was at my place—our place. He had been ever since I’d convinced Bristol to come back. After we’d made all the love our bodies could handle, I’d helped her pack her meager belongings and moved her into my bedroom. Our bedroom.

  Daisy was back in her bed in the living room. Bucket was with the other horses, but we’d kept the cattle separate. We were in the middle of interviewing new ranch hands to help with the combined King–Cartwright herd until we finalized plans for the sobriety ranch.

  Bristol spent the evenings when we were relaxed in front of the TV gathering research on how those ranches operated. The next step would be to find a financial advisor to make sure the money lasted as long as possible and helped the highest number of people possible. Then we’d hire developers and search for staff.

  She even had a name: Sarah’s Recovery Ranch. Bristol intended the ranch to be a working ranch, supporting itself so the money Mama had left behind could support the people.

  As guests filtered out, my brothers and their wives cleaned up the food, then left. They’d all gotten motel rooms in town. Bristol and I had assured them that they could stay in their bedrooms like normal, but all of them had shuddered, claiming they didn’t want to be under the same roof as us on our wedding night.

  Kendall caught a ride with Aiden and Kate. Dad lingered behind. The last guest. He finished up what was left of the dishes and bagged the garbage. The house didn’t look like it’d had twenty people roaming through it all day.

  He put the bags by the door, then stood with his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. “I have something for you two, but . . .” His brows pinched together. “I wasn’t sure when I should show you. If I should show you.”

  He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket and held it out. “It’s from your mother. She asked the lawyer to hold on to it until the trusts were all distributed. You both should read it.”

  I stared at the paper. A letter from Mama?

  My hands were unsteady as I opened it.

  Dear Gentry,

  I hope this letter doesn’t see the light of day and that I’m around to watch the amazing things our boys do with this money. But I just have a feeling, and you always tell me to go with my gut. So, honey, if you’re reading this, it’s your one and only I told you so.

  You’re all probably wondering why I set up the trusts the way I did. I can’t say for certain either. I never liked what Mom and Dad did to the Cartwrights, and as the company grew, I watched Danny struggle. And because of it, Bristol is going to have a tough life.

  I love that little girl. You and I both know Danny can’t be trusted with that much money. I’m afraid to leave it for Bristol. If I’m not there, who’ll tell her that her dad has no right to drain her of one single cent?

  And the boys. God, I love our boys. But, Gentry, they’re wild and they have the world at their fingertips. You and I settled down so young and my gut says they won’t. This money? It’s a privilege, and I trust us to raise them to do good things with it. But if I’m gone, if you’ve moved on, and I hope you have, then I want them to have someone to share their life with. They can suffer a little mama interference even if I’m not there.

  I also know you. If Danny is still around and if he wouldn’t be a good steward for this money, I know you and the boys will do what’s necessary to keep the trust in the family. But if it’s just Bristol, and she grows into the bright, capable young woman I think she will, then I know that one or more of the trusts going to her won’t be the end of the world no matter what my parents say.

  I also admit to hoping she ends up with one of the boys. A mama can dream, right? (It’s Dawson, isn’t it? They’re so cute together, and the way he watches out for her melts my heart.)

  But if it doesn’t work out, if all the boys marr
y and get the trust, can you make sure she’s taken care of? She’ll be stubborn like her dad, and proud, but everyone needs a little help sometimes.

  So, I guess that’s it. I hope I’m around long enough to change the trust into an inheritance. But if I’m not, then I won’t be around to deal with the repercussions. I’m going with my gut, Gentry. I love you. And make sure the boys never forget how much I love them. After this, I’m writing a letter to each of them. They’ll be tucked away in their baby books in my office.

  Always yours, even if you’re cursing me out for what I did,

  Sarah

  I pressed a palm against one leaking eye, then the other. “Shit.”

  “Yeah,” Dad said, his eyes gleaming.

  Bristol sniffed and handed me a napkin from the counter. She gave one to Dad and the three of us dabbed at our eyes without saying a word.

  “I guess that answers that,” I finally said and carefully folded Mama’s letter. “The baby books are packed away in the closet in the office. The others didn’t want theirs until they’d settled down. I never thought to look inside them.” I hadn’t wanted to. Packing up Mama’s office had been hard enough when I took over the house.

  Dad took the letter back. He stared at it for a moment, then reverently tucked it into his pocket. “This was such a Sarah thing to do. Figuring out a way to say goodbye even after she’s been gone for so long.”

  “Did you show Kendall?”

  He nodded. “She thought it best to give us privacy.” His gaze touched on Bristol. “You both did what two generations couldn’t and got over yourselves.” He started for the door. “By the way, Kendall left a gift box in the mudroom from all of us. She said you two didn’t have time to plan a honeymoon. So if it works for you, Xander and Savvy will stay the whole week so you two can get away. Aiden has the plane ready to go tomorrow when you are, and Beck left instructions for how to get to his cabin in the mountains after you land in Denver. Congratulations.”