by Stacy Finz
“I guess it was inevitable.” Cash, always the pragmatist. “Does he have a buyer yet?”
Jace shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like he’s listed it and has given us first dibs. I told him we couldn’t even pay Grandpa’s back taxes. Where we at on that, anyway?”
“I’ve got my end covered. Just sold the foreign rights on my last book. My agent’s still working out the details but it should be a decent payout. I’m willing to put any extra toward your end of it.” He looked first at Jace and then at Cash.
“Congratulations on the foreign rights,” Cash said. “But no one expects you to carry all three of us. I talked to an investment broker about borrowing against my 401(k). Right now, it’s looking like my best option.”
Cash’s gaze fell on Jace, who only had one possession worth anything that would even come close to paying his share. It would hurt to part with it. But it was that…or nothing.
“I’ve been doing some research on the internet,” he said. “And it looks like Grandpa’s coin collection might be worth something.”
“He left that to you,” Sawyer said and jabbed his fork in the air. “That was something you two did together. He wouldn’t want you to sell it.”
Jace was a kid when he and his grandfather had started going to coin shows together. They’d even gone to the New York International Numismatic Convention at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. It had been Jace’s first trip to the Big Apple, which had made a lasting impression. Never in his life did he want to live in a big city. Too many damned people.
But the convention had been exciting. Coins from all over the world, many of them ancient. He and his grandfather had been blown away by the history in that room. Jace would always remember the experience.
“The coins were a hobby, the ranch was Grandpa’s life,” Jace said. “It’ll be sad to give up that piece of him, but I can live with it if it means holding on to the land, holding on to our legacy.”
“Even if we manage to pay the arrears and the regularly scheduled payment this time, we’ll have to pay again in November,” Cash said.
“So? No matter where, unless we plan to rent for the rest of our lives, we’d have to pay property taxes, Cash.”
“Not on five hundred acres of prime real estate worth a fortune. But you fucking well know that, Jace. All I’m saying is that if we’re committed to keeping the ranch we have to come up with a plan to support it, not fly by the seat of our pants. We need to have a slush fund so we don’t have to beg, borrow, and steal every time a property tax or insurance bill comes due.”
“Fine, Cash. What’s the plan?” Jace knew he sounded like a dick, but it was his default when he was clueless about what to do. The cattle operation was a nice side-hustle that paid for itself with a little left over for small upgrades on the ranch. But it didn’t pay the big bills. “I’m open to anything you’ve got.”
“What if, instead of selling off some of the land, we develop a hundred acres ourselves. Big lots, maybe five acres each, with nice houses that we can sell for a hefty price. We could start a trust with the profits that’ll tide us over for at least the next ten years.”
“Nope.” Sawyer was adamant. “We’ve been over this. We’re not breaking up the land. Come up with a better plan.”
“Ditto to what Sawyer said,” Jace seconded. “Not happening, Cash.”
“Okay, then let’s hear your ideas.” Cash looked at his cousins.
“Buy Randy’s land and grow the cattle operation.” Sawyer grinned. “Go big or go home, right?”
“You’re delusional.”
This time, Jace agreed with Cash. Sawyer lived on an alternate planet from the rest of them.
“I say we focus on paying the tax bill for right now, then come up with a plan for the future.” Between Charlie’s situation and the upcoming primary, Jace was mentally tapped out. But he had been giving a lot of thought to Charlie’s idea about developing a ranch-related business besides raising cattle to support the land.
“I second that.”
Their food came and they ate in companionable silence for a while, each man lost in his own thoughts.
“Maybe we should do what Charlie does and sell junk,” Cash said as he finished his sandwich. “You know how much she pedals that stuff in her workshop for? A small fortune, that’s how much.”
Jace’s lips quirked. “It’s not junk when she gets through with it.”
“Aubrey’s bringing over two clients today with deep pockets.” Cash scratched his jaw. “I don’t get it.”
“What’s there to get? Charlie’s a good businesswoman. She’s as clever as she is creative.” Beautiful too. In the months she’d been living at the ranch, she and Jace had become a true team in every sense of the word.
“Shit.” Cash caught the time and reached for his wallet. “I’ve gotta go.”
“I’ll take care of the bill,” Sawyer said. “You can get me next time.”
Cash took off, leaving Jace and Sawyer to finish their sandwiches together.
“Anything new with that woman you talked to about Angie and the co-op in New Mexico?” Jace asked.
“Nada. I’m still deciding whether to go in person. My head’s been in finishing the book and the foreign rights sale on the other one.”
“Pretty impressive.” Jace leaned across the table and smacked Sawyer upside the head. “You’re a freaking rock star. Grandpa would’ve been so damned proud. We all are, you know?”
Sawyer seemed mildly embarrassed by the praise. “I wish Ange was around. She was my biggest cheerleader, used to call me Mr. Fourth Estate. I got a big kick out of that.”
“We all wish she was around, Sawyer. You writing today?”
“Every day.” He drained the rest of his coffee and flagged the server for their bill. “Grady’s getting his cast off, huh?”
“Yup. He was bouncing off the walls all evening, excited about seeing his actual arm again. It’s just a matter of time before he breaks something else. The kid doesn’t know how to sit still.”
“He’s hyper all right, but he hasn’t scared Charlie off.”
“Nope, she’s tougher than she looks.”
Sawyer perused the long row of credit cards in his wallet before choosing one. “She did a nice job with the fundraiser. I wasn’t too sure about her in the beginning, but I think she’s good for you. That smile you’ve been sporting ever since she showed up is starting to get nauseating, you know?”
“I wish Ainsley wasn’t hanging over her head.”
“Maybe he isn’t. Since she filed the restraining order it doesn’t seem like it would’ve been that hard to find her. Mill County’s tiny and people here like to talk. Any investigator worth his salt would’ve located her in ten seconds. And someone like Ainsley could afford the best, which makes me think he’s not looking.”
Jace thought about it all the way back to the office. Sawyer had good instincts about these kinds of things. Ainsley had to be concerned about his legal exposure. Criminal juries didn’t like defendants who kicked and beat their pregnant girlfriends. Why show up and make more trouble for himself?
By the time he left for Grady’s appointment, he’d halfway convinced himself that the threat level had dropped to low.
* * * *
Charlotte had made another sale, this one her largest of all. One of Aubrey’s clients whipped through the barn like a tornado, buying everything in sight.
The iron-gate-turned-headboard, the wagon-wheel chandelier, the trough garden fountain, the wheelbarrow planter, the barn door, and a number of other items Charlotte had picked up here and there and repurposed along the way.
The client had recently purchased a vacation home on a private lake near the Nevada state line and wanted to get it onto Vrbo as quickly as possible so it could start paying for itself. And the place needed to be completely furnished.
> She and Aubrey were coming back with a moving truck on Tuesday and had already given Charlotte a fat check made out to Jace Dalton. It was currently tucked away in Jace’s safe with the rest of Charlotte’s earnings. Now there was hardly anything left in the workshop, just a lot of odds and ends that Charlotte had collected along the way but had no plans for.
It was good, she told herself. She’d accomplished her goal of repurposing everything she’d taken from old man Maitland’s barn and then some. Friday, Sissy was coming to pick up the chair and sofa. So when Charlotte stole away Saturday morning, no one would be able to say she hadn’t fulfilled her commitments. Instead of one week, she’d given Jace two months.
Two of the best months of her life.
She dried her eyes and ordered herself to grow a spine. When Corbin came she would no longer be here. That way, he couldn’t complicate anyone else’s life.
Jace’s reelection bid was precarious enough. A showdown with the influential Ainsley family was the last thing he needed.
Meredith had instructed her to leave as soon as possible, but Charlotte had to get her ducks in a row first, starting with Jace. She wasn’t going to tell him she was leaving but wanted to make sure he and the kids were taken care of before she hit the road.
Those were her thoughts as she left the ranch to pick up the boys in time for Grady’s appointment. He wanted that cast off in the worst way, and Aubrey’s client had held Charlotte up.
She raced to the gate, wishing she didn’t have to spend the extra time getting out of the car to open and close it. It was a gorgeous day. So sunny, she’d been fooled into not wearing a jacket. For the first time this month, it felt like spring. A crop of poppies and lilacs had started to bloom in the fields and everywhere Charlotte looked she saw bursts of color. Even the air smelled fragrant with flowers.
She breathed in the glorious scent, swung the gate open and drove to the other side, then rushed back out to relock it. The boys liked to hop on the bottom rail, push off with their feet, and ride the gate closed. Though tempted to try it, Charlotte lifted the heavy iron just high enough to keep the bottom from dragging in the dirt and quickly shut it behind her.
She got in the driver’s seat, locked her door, and turned onto Dry Creek Road. That’s when she felt it. A swish of air on the back of her neck and something cold and steely against her skin.
“Keep driving.” The voice was low and cruel and the last time she’d heard it she was on the floor, battered and broken from being repeatedly kicked.
“Corbin…no…for God’s sake don’t do this.” Her eyes darted to the passenger seat, unable to remember if her phone was out or still in her handbag.
“What are you looking for, Charlotte?”
She didn’t respond, just scanned the road hoping to see a familiar car and somehow send out an SOS. Cash, Sawyer, anyone.
They were only a short distance to the highway and with every mile marker her chance for rescue or escape diminished. By the time the boys realized she wasn’t coming for them, Charlotte could be anywhere.
“A restraining order, Charlotte? I could be disbarred for the shit you’re accusing me of. Do you and your fucking fiancé want to get me disbarred? Huh, Charlotte?”
“No, Corbin.” He liked her submissive, and if she was going to come out of this, she’d have to play the part. Even if it made her gorge rise.
She considered jumping out of the vehicle but was afraid she’d either kill herself in the process or Corbin would shoot her before she got both feet out the door. She was sure it was a gun she felt on her neck.
“Corbin, just let me go and I’ll withdraw the restraining order.”
He laughed. “Too late for that now. Besides, we’ve got a lot to talk about, a lot of lost time to make up for. So you’re engaged, huh? I could’ve given you everything but instead you settle for some hayseed sheriff in the middle of nowhere. What the hell’s wrong with you, Charlotte?”
He smelled of alcohol and she’d never known him to be a heavy drinker. Then again, she hadn’t known a lot of things about Corbin Ainsley. Not until he’d managed to control every aspect of her life.
He shoved the hunk of steel harder against her neck. “Up at the highway make a right. Away from that little shithole town where your boyfriend the rent-a-cop is.”
She felt relieved and petrified at the same time. Leave Jace out of this. “Where are we going?”
“Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte. Always with the questions. You think you would’ve learned by now.”
“Why are you doing this, Corbin? Why are you jeopardizing your career, your father’s career?”
He laughed again. “Since when are you concerned about my career? You go off, lose our child, and hook up with the first guy you meet. What kind of woman does something like that, huh, Charlotte? I wanted to give you my name and what did you do? You played me, you threw me over like a chump. And now you’re flaunting your goddamn engagement in my face.”
Corbin was slurring his words and Charlotte feared he might be on something besides alcohol. She also worried that after he was finished with her, he’d exact his revenge on Jace.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not engaged. Please, Corbin, just let me go,” she pleaded.
“You’re never going anywhere again, Charlotte. You think I’d let you get away with taking my kid away from me? What did you do, get rid of the baby on purpose? We were supposed to be a family.”
They’d gotten to the stoplight at the intersection of the highway and Charlotte prayed that a neighbor would pass by and see her. Then again, what good would it do? Corbin was crouched down in the back seat and this was the same route she took every day at this time to pick up the boys. Nothing to see here.
“I told you to go right,” he commanded.
But the light had turned red and there was oncoming traffic. This was her last chance. Once they hit the highway, she’d be completely at Corbin’s mercy. If she wanted to escape she had to do it now.
Jump and run.
She reached for the door handle but Corbin snaked his arm around her throat and pressed cold metal against her larynx.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Please,” she whimpered.
The light was green.
“Turn!”
With no other choice, she did what he said. “Where are we going?”
“Do you ever stop talking, Charlotte? God, you used to give me such a headache with your endless nattering. Your fucking store. No one gave a shit about your fucking store.”
“Where are we going, Corbin?” she asked, and this time her voice was strong. Her fear had collided with anger. Why had he searched her out? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
Men like Corbin can never let it go, Charlotte. They always have to win.
That’s what Meredith had told her in those first few frightening days when Charlotte had planned her stealth getaway. It had been both a warning and a pep talk to leave, to move far, far away.
He cackled. “Where do you want to go, Charlotte? How about straight to hell?”
She drove, wishing she could flag down one of the motorists headed in the opposite direction. But they whizzed by her in a blur of color, oblivious to her plight.
She passed the motel where Jace had brought her that first night. Past the Dutch Bros. Coffee kiosk where an endless line of cars waited. Then the urgent care facility where she’d been treated after the miscarriage. The same hospital where she’d taken Grady for his broken arm.
It was surreal watching all these places whir by in her rearview mirror while Corbin held a gun to the back of her head. Soon, they’d be approaching the entrance to Interstate 80. What would Corbin do then?
At some point, the boys would notify Jace that she hadn’t picked them up and he would eventually alert the Highway Patrol to be
on the lookout for her Honda. The interstate would be her best chance for rescue.
But Corbin wasn’t an idiot. Certainly he knew they’d be easier to spot on a major interstate.
“Keep going,” he said when they came to the on-ramp, and what little hope she had plummeted.
They crossed the freeway and Charlotte was lost. She’d never been south of Auburn on Highway 49 and had no idea what lay ahead.
They drove for what seemed like miles. And the farther they went, the curvier the road got, with hairpin turns and sheer drops into a river much larger than Dry Creek. Charlotte was petrified, her foot riding the brake and her hands squeezing the wheel. But Corbin was losing his patience.
“Pick up the pace,” he said so close to her ear that it made her jump in her seat.
She weighed the possibility of driving off the mountainside but didn’t like her chances. The drop would likely kill them both.
She needed a better escape route.
After twenty minutes of twists and turns, the road became flat and straight and much more manageable. If not for Corbin sitting behind her, she would’ve found her breath.
They sped by a cluster of old Western-style buildings and continued past signs advertising white-water rafting tours and adventures. The drive seemed endless. And to nowhere.
“Pull in here.” Corbin ordered her down a turnout that was little more than a dirt road.
She followed his command until they came to a fork in the trail, where Corbin told her to take a right onto a bumpy lane that was no more than a car-width wide. The area was wooded and there didn’t seem to be a house for miles.
Ahead, she made out water, and the closer they got to it she realized it was a river. Likely the same river from where they’d come. In the distance, there was a large trestle bridge but Charlotte couldn’t tell how far away it was. It appeared to be close to the little Western town they’d passed, but fear had thrown off her sense of direction.
“Stop here.”
Her car, along with her heart, skidded to a halt.
“Where are we?”
“Your final resting place.” Corbin stuck his head up front and the smell of liquor filled the cab as if it was emanating from his pores. He must’ve been on a bender for days. “Get out of the car.”