The Bartered Bride [Climax, Montana 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “Ain’t got nothing to sell, mister,” replied Riley belligerently. “How’d you get my number, anyway?”

  “I have my ways. You’d be best to agree with me.”

  “Buddy, I’m tryin’ to figure out who you are, but I’m coming up blank. You got a name, or do I hang up?”

  “The name is Stark. Bertram Stark. I want Penelope back.”

  “Peh-neh-low-pee? What the hell kind of name is that?” He snorted. “You must be on drugs. Jane would get mighty pissed if she thought I was shagging another girl while she was doing all that cooking and cleaning.”

  “Her name is Penelope Stark, not Jane.”

  Riley could almost hear him grinding his teeth. Jane had said no one had the balls to stand up to Stark. Well, there was always a first time for everything. And he was the perfect candidate.

  “So, the gal I got stashed in my condo’s your daughter?”

  “She’s not my daughter,” replied Stark with disgust.

  “Oh, your wife cuckolded you?”

  “I’d have killed them both if she had. She used a defunct sperm bank. Penelope is the result.”

  “So, you’re not Jane’s daddy?” Jane was going to be so happy to hear the bastard had no connection to her. But how had her mother managed to get pregnant behind his back? That was a question for later. “Huh. She’s not your blood, so you never gave a damn about her. And now you want to barter her for whatever you can get.”

  “That is a vulgar way of putting a business decision.”

  “You sure talk rich. You got the bling to back it up?”

  “Bling?”

  “Gold, platinum, diamonds. Stuff like a Lamborghini, mansions, yachts and private airplanes. You got all that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re shittin’ me!”

  “Can you not keep a civil tongue in your mouth?”

  “Why the hell should I be civil to a man who beats a child?”

  “Providing discipline is one of life’s pleasures. So is planning unfortunate activities, such as to a place called…Climax, is it?”

  His self-satisfied tone had Riley steaming.

  “You threatening me, Stark?”

  “I can buy and sell your pitiful ranch ten times over. I don’t need to make threats.”

  “You got that much, huh?”

  “Yes, Mr. Adams, I do. And more.”

  He only understands greed, said the voice in his ear. Play along and see what he’ll do.

  “So, I got the girl and you got the money. That where this is going? We gonna do some horse trading to see who gets what for how much?”

  Stark inhaled swiftly. Riley could almost see him pinch the top of his nose with his thumb and finger. He had a good idea the bastard used a cane, to look important as well as to beat Jane.

  “You do use interesting phrases.”

  “How much will you give me for Jane?”

  “What would you do with a quarter of a million dollars?”

  “Two hundred and fifty grand? Build my parents their own home.”

  A bungalow so their old knees wouldn’t have to climb stairs. And so he, Trav, and Jane would have privacy to make those grandchildren his parents were getting antsy about.

  “What about a new truck? Vacation in Australia?”

  “Truck works fine. This is a vacation.” None of it would be any good without Jane. Not that he was tempted to take the offer. Any offer. Stark didn’t realize that, though. “A cool million might tempt me.”

  “Why would you think I would even consider giving you that much?”

  “Jane said you want to trade her to some bastard so you can bid on contracts that’ll make you a shitload of money. A million is nothing to you.”

  “Ah, I wondered if she’d speak about that.”

  “Yep. And million or not, I’m not going to let that son of a bitch anywhere near her. You two are worse than maggots. At least they have a useful purpose.”

  “You wear a white hat, cowboy? Trying to save the girl?”

  “The color of my hat means shit. Same with the money. I won’t have Jane hurt.”

  “How noble of you. Of course, you’re only doing this to set her free, not to get her into your bed and keep her there.”

  “Jane’s already in my bed and happy. If she wants to leave and have nothing to do with me, as long as you and your buddy leave her alone, then I’ll deal with it.”

  “We’re both businessmen,” said Stark. He sounded as slick as a greased pig. “Let’s look at it the other way around. What will you give me if I walk away and leave her with you?”

  Riley stared at the horizon. What could he give up for Jane? He didn’t own the ranch. Even if he did, it could only be sold to someone who was a descendent of the original families. That was all part of the Tanner’s Ford Valley Association agreement dating back a hundred and fifty years.

  “What do you want?” asked Riley.

  “Money.”

  “Well, hell, then! You’re shit outta luck because I don’t have any. And don’t think you can take Jane. She’s mine, unless she wants to walk.”

  “Would you give up a million dollars for her?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  Stark took his time thinking over his possibilities. Riley watched the waves. In and out, nothing bothering them.

  “I could have my men take her from you,” said Stark. “You’d lose the money and the girl. Rankin is not at all pleased. If he joins my men, he’ll make sure you’re unable to function as a man. Does that change your mind?”

  Chapter 32

  Riley’s laugh rippled down the beach. Jane had been terrified of this pompous bully, but he and Travis had the man’s number. Bullies back down when attacked, especially by ridicule.

  “Orders or not, Stark, your men can do squat in Climax. I bet they’re city boys. Same with Rankin. There’s a lot of land to get lost in there. Not too many gangbangers, but there’s rattlesnakes, stampeding cattle, and wild mustangs. Our grizzlies, coyotes, and ravens would make short work of a fellow walking where he shouldn’t. Won’t be much left to bury.”

  If Stark was an ogre, he’d be gnashing his teeth, thought Riley. He now had a much better idea of why Jane was unable to ask for help, or say what she liked to eat, do, and wear. He wished the bastard would come to Montana just so Riley could show him what happened to men who demeaned and terrorized women.

  “Marry her before her twenty-fifth birthday and sign over her trust fund to me, and you can have her,” said Stark.

  “What trust fund? Jane said she isn’t getting anything from you.”

  “Someone left her money. She doesn’t know it, so will never miss it.”

  “Her mother?”

  “That’s all gone, eaten up in school fees and administration charges.” Stark laughed contemptuously. “You think I would pay good money to send her to those schools? Her mother’s will stated it be used for her care, with anything left over to be given to her at twenty-one. Unfortunately, it was all gone. Tuition, clothing, and security protection are all very expensive.”

  Riley fumed at the bastard’s smug tone. Jane had been left money, but it had been used to send her to schools she hated, on clothes she had no choice in, and guards who kept her from having a life.

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I told you. Marry the girl before her twenty-fifth birthday, sign over the trust fund to me, and we’re done.”

  “Why me and not Jane? It’s her money.”

  “Not if she marries before twenty-five.”

  “What about your deal with Rankin?”

  “For obvious reasons, he may not want her now.” He made a noise of dismissal. “He’s been sniffing after her since she was fifteen. I was ready to sell her at eighteen, but he wanted her to attend college. She’s not my blood, so why would I care, as long as I got my cut?”

  Riley’s fury had been rising with every word the bastard spewed. His breathing rose with his heart rate.

>   Back off that attitude, Adams. Focus on now. You can deal with him later, when Jane’s safe.

  The voice in his ear was right, but Riley didn’t have to like it.

  “You sanctimonious son of a bitch.”

  “I’m a businessman, Adams. I trade commodities so both parties get what they want. I want money and power. What do you want from Jane?”

  “I want her to be free to choose her own way in life.”

  “How sweet. And what do you get out of it?”

  “I will know that an intelligent, beautiful, wonderful woman I care about is happy.”

  “Is that it? How noble of you.”

  The sarcasm rolled through Riley.

  “If I sign over Jane’s trust fund to you, you will let her alone. No guards, no hassling her. You will have no contact with her, ever again. Nor will you mention her to anyone, in anything but a positive way.”

  “Accepted.”

  “There’s more. You forced Jane to plead guilty to a charge she never committed. I want that struck down and her record cleared.”

  “Cecilia cannot be involved. Her fiancé requires her to be sweet and innocent.”

  “Jane says her sister is neither.”

  “So? All that matters is that my daughter’s fiancé and his father believe it until after the honeymoon.”

  “Damn good thing Jane has nothing of your DNA. Her children won’t be tainted by your slime.”

  “You’ll never know who her father is. The clinic where she had the procedure closed down and burned everything.”

  “As long as it’s not you. I want Jane’s record cleared.”

  “How?”

  “You set her up in the first place. You figure it out.” Once more Riley waited as Stark thought over his options.

  “Accepted. You sign over the trust fund to me and you can have her.”

  “How much is in this trust fund?”

  Stark spoke with sarcastic ultra-patience. “I don’t know, since I’ve not seen it. It was established with a million dollars shortly after her birth.”

  “I think I’ll wait until her birthday. She’ll have her money, and be free.”

  “She won’t be free.” The smug bastard was back. “I’ve already arranged for her to be declared mentally incompetent. She is obviously unbalanced, as shown by her being charged with multiple offences, including assaulting a police officer. This latest stunt, running away and moving in with a couple of cowboys, proved it.”

  “You smug bastard!”

  “I will get this money, Adams, one way or another. Either you marry her and hand over the trust fund, or she stays single and is locked up in a very exclusive, lovely facility with better security than Fort Knox while her dear father administers her estate. And you’ll never see her again.”

  “If we’ve already married,” said Riley, “you won’t have the right to do anything with Jane.”

  “The paperwork is signed and the process already underway. Jane cannot legally marry because she is not competent.”

  Riley hoped that was not true. Or that someone in Tom’s extensive network could make it disappear.

  “If I sign over Jane’s money, she’ll be free of you, forever?”

  “You give me the money and you can have the girl. I don’t give a damn what you do with, or to, her.”

  “I want ten percent. Think of it as a handling fee. I’ll handle Jane, and give the rest of the money to you.”

  “Ten percent!”

  “Ninety percent of something is better than a hundred percent of nothing.”

  More fuming at the other end of the phone. More calm waves in front of him.

  Push him, hard. Riley listened to the voice in his ear.

  “Listen up, you sick bastard. I know where Jane is, and how to get to her. If you want this deal to go forward, you’ll do what I say.”

  “You said she was in the condo!”

  “I lied. My bad.”

  The surf was too loud to tell if Stark ground his teeth. Riley had humiliated him and someone would pay. As long as it wasn’t Jane, he didn’t give a shit.

  “I see my information is flawed.” The reply was icy. “Where is she?”

  “Beats me. With Travis and Buster, somewhere between here and home. Maybe they stopped for a quickie.”

  “You’ve had your say, Adams. Pray we never meet.”

  “I’m down on my knees in the sand, doing just that.”

  He heard a snarl before the line went dead.

  We have it all on tape and will be checking out his claims. There’s enough witnesses to Jane’s competence. Don’t worry.

  Riley cursed. “What a dog turd!”

  Your brother and Miss Jane will be at the J Bar C Ranch before morning. Keep this phone on you at all times. And keep it turned on!

  Riley shut the phone, slowly and carefully. He looked at it, then at the ocean. His rage was such that he wanted to heave it as far as he could, or smash it as he had his previous one. But it was his only link to Jane, and her safety meant everything to him.

  Suddenly he felt dirty, inside and out. Filthy and unclean from talking to a piece of garbage who would think nothing of destroying women and children for his own amusement.

  He hauled off his shirt and dropped it on the sand. His boots, socks, and pants went next, leaving him in the black undershorts he used for swimming. He dropped the cell in his boot and walked, fists and jaw tight, into the water. When it was waist deep, he bent over, put his face under and roared. He came up for air, hauled it into his lungs, and went down again.

  Six times he repeated it, until he’d said all the things he needed to, and had expelled the last of his fury. It left him with a cold, hard rage that would not end until Stark met with some very nasty men. Riley wanted to be the one to stare him in the eyes before he died, but he wasn’t a professional. Tom White knew men who would ensure things happened, and no one in Climax would be blamed. That would keep Jane safe.

  He shook his head, clearing his eyes, and headed out to sea. A pelican saw him coming and took off for easier pickings by the fisherman’s dock in town. Riley settled into a pace that would tax him, following the shoreline. A few miles might calm him enough so he could drive all night.

  He had to get home to Jane, to hold her and know she was safe.

  Chapter 33

  The monster’s cold fingers pressed against her neck. Jane stifled a scream, knowing he would attack if he knew she was awake. He’d already wrapped her in a rug to keep her still, and then he’d use it to carry her outside to dispose of her body, but only after he’d finished—Woof.

  Woof?

  A low whine, more a comment than complaint, broke through the fog. She opened her eyes. A freckled white and black muzzle poked into view.

  “Buster.” He yipped in delight at her acknowledging him.

  This was Montana. The J Bar C Ranch. With Travis and Riley’s parents. All three of them…Oh, Lord!

  “I’m safe here. That’s all that matters.”

  She struggled to get free of the sheet and quilt, which she’d somehow wrapped around herself like a shroud. Travis said his family got up early to do chores. If there was enough light for her to see Buster, she’d slept in. Goosebumps rose as soon as she threw back the covers. She hissed when she put her toes on the cold floor.

  Buster headed for the door. She heard the murmur of voices, which meant someone else could let the dog outside. She quick-stepped across the wide wood boards and let Buster through. Across the hall was a bathroom. She took the towels off the dresser before crossing the hallway to find relief. She looked out the window while she sat. The room was on the ground floor. The land swept uphill, but the view was obstructed by tall evergreens. There was lots of snow, and frozen mud.

  While she showered under the near-antique fixture, she planned what she could do to help. She wasn’t knowledgeable enough to do ranch work, though she wanted to learn as much as she could while she was there. Everything she learned would help h
er get a job.

  Riley had mentioned his mom disliked household chores, preferring to be outside. With Aggie’s permission, she would take over as much of the indoor work as she could. She had to do something to be allowed to stay until she got her feet under her.

  Fifteen minutes later she was ready to meet her hosts. Her stomach growled at the aroma of bacon. With only a towel to dry her hair, it hung in damp strings. Her roots showed, a darker half inch at the base of reddish brown. She made an effort to dress well as Travis liked her to look nice, and she wanted to impress his parents.

  Both her long-sleeved blouse, pink with pale green and yellow lines, and her A-line navy skirt were well creased. All she had to cover her legs were black stay-ups, so that was what she wore with her black pumps. Her best bra and cami with matching thong completed her outfit. She didn’t feel polished, but she was dressed. This was, after all, a working ranch.

  Her heels made clopping noises with every step. She hesitated outside the kitchen. A tall blond older man faced her with arms crossed. He’d obviously heard her coming, and was waiting. He wore cowboy boots, jeans, one of those wide oval belt buckles, and a thick plaid shirt. This was what Riley would look like in thirty years, though his intense, dominating presence was all Travis. They both filled the room just by existing.

  He raised his green ceramic mug in greeting. She pushed her hair behind her ear with a shaking hand. He stared so intensely at her that she looked away. Her excuse to evade his gaze was to check out the huge room.

  Like in the bathroom, these windowsills were at least ten inches wide, suggesting the walls were made of logs. Someone had placed pots of herbs to grow in the sun. They needed water, and tending, she noted. The walls were flat, which should mean there was insulation to keep the inside warm.

  Rugs were strategically placed over the wide, honey brown planks, except for the ceramic tile under and around the antique black stove. She’d love to learn to use it, but she wouldn’t be here long enough. Luckily there was also a four-burner electric stove.

  The cupboard doors were painted a bright spring green, a contrast to the crisp white walls. Photographs and framed artwork hung wherever space was available. It would make an interior decorator pull her hair out, but the effect was welcoming.