Wolf Call

by Jane Jamison

  “Miss Cumming, you may join them now.”

  Her father’s longtime personal assistant smiled at her. She liked Betty Williams and knew her as a good, faithful employee who had put up with her father’s eccentric and demanding behavior longer than she’d have thought anyone could.

  “Thanks, Betty.” She stood, gathering her briefcase and purse along with her, straightened her back, and marched into who-knew-what.

  Heather paused for a moment at the door as she took in her father’s most-trusted attorney, Jeb Abrams, as well as Mr. Brooks, head of the national brokerage firm of Brooks Realty. With a sinking heart, she took the farthest seat from her father and waited for the proverbial shoe to drop. Having Sean Brooks in the meeting could only mean one of two things. Either her father was buying a new company or he was selling a company under the umbrella of Cumming International. But the outcome was usually the same. People would lose their jobs.

  “Gentlemen, you are dismissed.”

  Her father leaned back in the oversized leather chair and stroked his beard, a telltale sign that he had bad news to give her. Not that he’d consider it bad news. It was only bad for her. She nodded to the men as they left the room and got ready for anything to happen.

  As soon as she heard the click of the door shutting behind the others, she leaned forward and rested her forearms on the glossy finish of the long mahogany table. Her father lifted one imperious eyebrow. Although the hairs in his beard and mustache were as white as his full head of hair, he didn’t look a day older than his sixty years. His body was fit and his mind was as sharp as ever. His piercing blue eyes were magnets that drew her in whenever he looked at her.

  “What’s up, Dad? Putting more people out of work? Or have you bought an orphanage and decided to level it for a parking lot?” She’d used the more familiar term of dad instead of the more formal word father as he liked her to do. Maybe it was petty, but she felt better getting in at least a small blow.

  Is that a smile tipping at the corners of his mouth? Holy cow shit.

  “Heather, you think so ill of me, but it doesn’t matter. No, I have news of a different sort.”

  He was more proper and stoic than she’d have thought possible for a man who’d grown up on a farm in Iowa, and she wished he was more like the rural stock he’d come from. She’d only seen his mellower, gentler side while he was on the ranch in Passion, but that was before her mother had died five years earlier, the day after her twentieth birthday. Lydia Cumming had brought out the good side of him, and, once she’d lost her battle to cancer, he’d become hard and bitter. He’d never returned to the ranch after his wife’s death, claiming that he didn’t have time, and yet, he’d kept the ranch. Heather hoped that one day he’d pass Windy Hills on to her.

  As far as she was concerned, she’d lost both her parents when her mother had passed away. After the funeral, Heather had gone back to law school and hadn’t returned until last year. She visited the ranch often to stand over her mother’s grave, remembering the good times she’d had with her mother and her father whenever he joined them. He’d been a different man before their loss, but she could barely remember that man now.

  “What else could it be with Sean here? You’re buying or selling something. Am I right?” Why couldn’t he just get it over with? She wanted to get back to the townhouse and go over the case she’d argue at the end of the week involving another one of her pro-bono clients. Not that she’d ever tell her father. He detested her work with anyone who couldn’t afford her services.

  “You are very astute, Heather. Yes, I’m selling.” He blinked then centered his intense attention on her. “I’m putting Windy Hills up for sale.”

  She’d expected anything but that. Both astonishment and anger overwhelmed her. “The ranch? But why? How can you do that?”

  “I no longer want it, and the capital can be used for other more important things.”

  She was standing and moving toward him before she realized it. “You can’t. The ranch isn’t just another holding. It’s where we were happy. Even you liked staying at the ranch. At least until…hell, it’s where my mother is buried.”

  He drew in a long, slow breath. “I’m well aware of where your mother is buried. I was, after all, the one who obtained permission to bury her there instead of in the cemetery.”

  “Then how can you sell it? Mom would roll over in her grave if she knew. She loved Windy Hills.” She wasn’t sure she was making sense, but she couldn’t stop the flood of words rushing out of her mouth. How could he be so cruel as to take the ranch and her mother’s burial place away from her?

  “If it’ll make you happy, you can handle the sale. And in deference to your feelings, you may choose the buyer based on two conditions.”

  “Let me guess. Condition one is money. Condition two is even more money.”

  “Being flippant doesn’t become you. No. You may choose the winning bid based on two factors. First, of course, is that it is the best offer. However, if another bid should come within, say, twenty thousand dollars of the highest bid and you prefer what that buyer has planned for the ranch, then you may choose the second-best offer.”

  “What’s the point of that? You know damn well that anyone buying the ranch is going to want to make money. To do that, they’ll have to break the acreage up and sell it to whoever gives them the most money, or they’ll have a major development project in mind. Either way, the beauty of the land is ruined and my mother’s grave is violated.”

  “We can move your mother to the local cemetery if you desire.”

  “I want her to stay where she is. The ranch is where she was the happiest. Where all of us were the happiest. And now you’re destroying those memories.”

  “You’ll handle the transaction?”

  She slumped into a nearby chair. “No. I won’t. You want me to help you get rid of the only thing that matters to me in this world. No fucking way.”

  Her father gripped the arms of his chair. “Watch your language, young lady. And let me say that again. Yes, you will handle the transaction, and I should think you’d want to. Do you want some control over what happens to the ranch or not? If not, I’ll turn it over to Abrams.”

  Abrams, her father’s top corporate attorney and known hatchet man, wouldn’t give a flip who bought the ranch. He’d take the highest bidder even if it meant the new owner would lay waste to the land. Especially if he could make a little money on the side and please her father by choosing whichever buyer he liked.

  “You can’t. I won’t let you.”

  He stared at her as though she’d grown an extra head. “Heather, you really shouldn’t challenge me. It doesn’t become you.”

  She studied him, trying to find the father she’d once loved. “What happened to you? We both lost Mom, but you changed. You’re not a man any longer. You’re a monster.”

  She could feel the air dip in temperature. Hugging herself against the chill and the pain ripping into her heart, she glared at him. “Don’t do it. If not for my sake, then for Mom’s.”

  “Your mother’s dead. It’s time to move on.” He closed the open file that rested in front of him. “This matter is settled.”

  She struggled to breathe, fought to keep from striking her father. After everything he’d ever done to hurt her, every missed opportunity he’d had to connect with her, every time when she’d reached out to him after her mother’s death and he’d shunned her, he’d finally delivered the ultimate low blow. How heartless could he be to sell the land where her mother was buried? But what choice did she have? Not having even a minor input in the sale was unthinkable. She had to cling to the hope that she could somehow save it. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  Her father rose, his hands pressed flat against the table. “Good. Start getting bids immediately, and remember to keep this discreet. Abrams will e-mail you with the particulars of how to handle this. I hope you’ll make use of his expertise. Have a good night, my dear.”

  She wasn’t sure
how long she stayed in the conference room after her father had gone. Her body was shaking too badly to stand. At last, the insistent ringing of her phone finally brought her out of her trance. “Y–yes?”

  “Hey, girl, what’s going on?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  Heather closed her eyes and let the sound of Kelly Sims’s voice wash over her. Kelly worked at The Passion Pen, Passion’s newspaper, and was a freelance writer and blogger. When she’d met her at the grocery store a couple of months earlier, Heather had instantly liked the vibrant Kelly. She didn’t care that the young writer had written a less-than-attractive article about John Cumming and Cumming International’s acquisition of a Denver manufacturing company and the subsequent firing of most of its employees. Kelly had written the truth, and that’s all that mattered.

  Kelly lived with three very interesting men. Although first thrown by the idea of a ménage relationship, especially how fast it had happened for Kelly, Heather had finally admitted that the idea intrigued her. If she had the opportunity to have three hot men treasure her and vow to love her forever, wouldn’t she take it? Wouldn’t any woman? But the likelihood of that happening was about as high as a dog climbing a tree. It could happen, but when was the last time anyone had seen a dog do it? She had enough trouble finding one man interesting enough to take to bed, much less to engage with in a long-term relationship.

  “Uh-oh. Is Dearest Daddy causing trouble again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn, Heather, I can hear it in your voice. It’s really bad, huh?”

  “The worst. He’s selling Windy Hills Ranch.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. What about your mom’s grave?”

  “Like he cares. I guess she’s just collateral damage.” Her heart clenched in her chest. She probably shouldn’t be telling Kelly anything about the sale, but she had to tell someone. “But it gets worse. I’m handling the sale.”

  “God, Heather, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  Lilly Beanston’s voice came through from the other side. “Tell her we can lodge a protest. I have at least fifty people I can call who will gladly chain themselves to a tree near her mom’s grave.”

  As usual, Lilly and Kelly were together. Even after Kelly had moved in with her three great men, she hadn’t let her friendships suffer. That was one of many traits Heather admired about Kelly.

  “Tell Lilly thanks, but I don’t think anything can be done. You know my father. He always gets what he wants.”

  “Yeah, I know. The Great John Cumming.” Kelly’s dislike of Heather’s father was evident in her tone. “When are you going to stand up to him, Heather?”

  It wasn’t the first time Kelly had mentioned the subject.

  “I will. But I know my father. Once I do stand up to him, there’ll be no turning back. I just want to make sure that what I fight him on is important enough to cut ties with him.”

  “Isn’t your mom’s grave worth it? Isn’t the ranch?”

  Absolutely. “I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

  “Well, when you do, you know I’m in your corner.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it. Thanks for letting me vent, too, but I need to get going.”

  “Anytime, Heather.”

  “Hey, tell her to meet us at Saddles later. We’re buying.”

  Heather laughed, appreciating Lilly’s offer, especially since she knew Lilly didn’t make much money working at a local vegan restaurant. “Maybe I will. But don’t wait around for me, just in case.”

  “Okay. But listen, girl. If you need me, I’m just a call away.”

  “You’re the best, Kelly.”

  “Hey, what about me?”

  “You, too, Lilly.”

  She hung up, and almost as soon as the call ended, the pressure of the impending disaster pressed down on her again. She couldn’t think about what was happening to her beloved ranch. Not yet. She’d go back to the townhouse, open a bottle of wine, and cry her heart out. Gathering her things, she rushed out of the building. Joe Higgins, her personal driver, took one look at her face and opened the Bentley’s rear door. She took deep breaths and waited until he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Are you all right, Miss Heather?”

  Joe kept his gaze straight ahead, giving her as much privacy as he could, yet she could hear the sincere concern in his voice. Although she’d never asked him, she’d guessed Joe’s age to be near fifty. He’d worked for her father as her mother’s personal driver, and, once she was gone, Joe had remained on the job doing whatever jobs her father had assigned him. Heather had grown up under Joe’s watchful presence. Then when Heather moved back, Joe asked to become her driver whenever she needed him. In a rare show of generosity, her father had agreed. She thought the extravagance of a personal driver was a bit much, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse Joe’s request. Joe was not only like a treasured uncle to her but one of the few people still working for the company that had known her mother well.

  “I’m fine.” She bit back a sob as Joe glanced over his shoulder. “Really, Joe. Don’t worry about me.”

  “But I do worry about you.”

  She was taken aback but in a good way. “Why?”

  Now it was his turn to get thrown. “Because I care about you. I’ve watched you grow up from a tiny baby into a beautiful and caring young woman. Your mother would be very proud of you.”

  He looked away as though he thought he’d said too much, stepping over the invisible line between staff and employer.

  “Thanks, Joe. I needed to hear that.” She kept on looking at him as he checked the mirrors and started the engine. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m really glad you stuck around after Mom’s death. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Her words were sincere as, not for the first time, she realized just how much Joe had done for her in the past year. Whenever she’d gotten sick, it was Joe that had called the family’s personal physician to come and make a house call. When she’d lost an important case, it was Joe who’d put his arm around her and had let her lean on him all the way from the courthouse to the car. Joe had been at her side for a lot of life’s moments before and after her mother had died. He’d cared about her mother, too, and even put flowers on her grave each month. No wonder her mother had loved Joe so much.

  All at once, she needed to be around other people. People who were having a good time and not cooped up in an office building or alone in a townhouse. It was probably too early for Kelly and Lilly to get to Saddles, but she didn’t want to call them, either. If they came while she was still there, then it’d be great. Either way, she’d get to see what all the fuss was about at the cowboy bar. Pulling off the suit jacket she wore, she shook out her hair, freeing it from the ponytail she wore whenever she worked.

  “Where to, miss?”

  “I think I need a good stiff drink. How about taking me to Saddles? Do you know the place?”

  “The one where the waitresses dance on top of the bar? The nightclub?”

  Joe’s calling the Coyote Ugly-style club a nightclub put a small smile on her face. “Yeah, that’s the place.”

  “Are you sure, Miss Heather?” His brow was furrowed. “Are you meeting friends?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. And no, not yet anyway. But can you stick around awhile? I won’t be staying long.”

  “Of course. No problem.”

  She leaned back against the soft leather upholstery and shut her eyes. But the image of her father’s face as he told her the ranch was for sale came rushing back. He’d seemed almost gleeful, as though he’d enjoyed seeing her reaction. She opened her eyes and watched the town rush past them. Within a few minutes, Joe pulled the car up to the front of the club then hurried around to open her door.

  She stepped out, thanked him, and tried not to notice how the people standing in line to get into the club were studying her. She hated using her last name to get special treatment, but if she had to, she woul
d. It was either that or stand in line with everyone staring at her, wondering who she was to have her own personal driver and a Bentley.

  She kept her gaze lowered as she approached the huge man guarding the door. Lifting her head, she met his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’d like to get in, please.”

  “What’s your name?”

  She followed his gaze as he watched Joe maneuver the car into the parking lot. The guy didn’t really need to know her real name unless she had to use it as a last resort. It was obvious she was wealthy. “I’m a friend of the Cumming family.”

  The recognition made him widen his eyes. “A friend of the Cumming family, huh? Well, okay, then.” He stood back, opened the heavy wooden door, and waved her inside the club.

  The smell of alcohol, perfumes mixed with colognes, and perspiration hit her as she stepped into Saddles. Bright lights focused on the dance floor in the middle of the large one-room building while dimmer lighting set a more seductive mood around the edge, where the tables and booths were. A large bar took center stage with the dance floor wrapping around it, complete with overhead spotlights for the shows. Heather moved forward, letting the crowd swallow her. She was overdressed in her suit skirt and white silk blouse. Cowboy attire with big silver buckles mixed with the short skirts and glittering tops to send sparkles of light prancing around the room. A trio of girls belted out a well-known country song from on top of the bar as they line danced from one end to the other. The crowd cheered as the performers ended the song with flair.

  She worked her way through the crowd, shaking her head at a couple of guys who asked her to dance. Finally making it to the bar, she managed to get the attention of a lady bartender and ordered the only drink she liked, aside from very good champagne. “A Long Island Iced Tea, please.”