Closer to You (A Haven, Montana Novel)

by Jill Sanders

  “Damn it! Better go get Tony.” He sighed and wondered if the night could get any worse.

  The sun was just peeking out from above the hills when he finally drove back to his place. As he climbed the stairs, the music from the Spot was still pumping strong.

  He hated his place and, for the first time since returning to Haven, he thought about heading to his mother’s place instead. But he was too tired to face the hassle of packing enough to get him by.

  After a tepid shower, he dragged on a fresh pair of jeans and shirt, then pulled on his boots and waited while the coffee machine poured out his extra-strong brew.

  He thought about a few hours of sleep but knew that if he went horizontal, he’d stay there for too long. He had meetings today: first a drive out to the Meier ranch to discuss setting up a site on their outer acres. Then he had a meeting scheduled with the heads of the protesters. After they had been visited by the police last night, he’d immediately received a call for a meeting today. He could just imagine how it was going to go.

  The McGowan brothers had managed to clean up most of the mess in his office last night. Mud and cans of motor oil had been spilled all over the carpet, which meant that he and his brothers had spent the frozen night yanking out the commercial-grade carpet and tossing it in the dumpster. Now his office floor sat bare and ugly.

  He’d have to get Rea on the task of ordering and arranging for new carpet. Maybe he’d go with hardwood instead?

  He parked beside his brother’s truck and his mind cleared as he watched Kristen walk out of the new door he’d hung less than two hours ago.

  She stood by the door, her arms covering her light silk shirt, which he noted was entirely too thin for her to be standing outside in. He shook off the memory of the night before and her thin yoga top.

  Taking his thermos with him, he made his way up the stairs and stomped his boots off, ignoring her until she blocked the doorway.

  “How did it go last night?” she asked, biting her bottom lip. He could see the worry in her eyes, but instead of memories of the break-in, the thought of her wrapped around him surfaced. He shook his head clear and tried to step past her.

  “Fine,” he replied quickly.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Later. I have about an hour of work before I’m due out at the Meiers’ place.” He reached past her and opened the door, enjoying the weight of the metal door.

  “Then I’ll come with you,” she said, moving aside.

  That stopped him. His hand stilled as the door was half-opened.

  “Why?”

  “Because, like I said, we need to talk.” She pushed the door the rest of the way and walked in.

  Seeing his brothers and Rea in the main part of the trailer, he decided not to start an argument with Kristen in front of them.

  Without another word to her, he made his way back to his office and cringed at the bareness of the room. He supposed that the old brown carpet had been ugly, but it was a great deal better looking than plywood with glue spots and tack boards all over the place.

  Sitting down behind his desk, he punched his computer on and tried to get as much done as he could before his meetings.

  When his door opened and Kristen walked in, he shut his computer down and led her outside.

  “Where is the Meiers’ place?” she asked after he helped her into the truck.

  “West of town about fifteen miles,” he answered.

  “What’s out that far?” she asked, watching the scenery fly by them.

  “Oil,” he answered.

  “Tyler.” She turned slightly toward him. “About last night . . .” He waited. He’d thought about how to handle the conversation. How to handle her, and had made up his mind. She had a few more days in town. Since he knew she wasn’t going to get him to sign over his company, he doubted that JB would keep her there much longer. Which meant four more days and she’d be out of his life forever.

  He’d controlled himself for half a year, what was a few more days? Besides, Darla’s words were messing with his head.

  “I didn’t come over to your place because of this.” She waved her hand at the hood of his truck.

  “Because of my truck?” He chose to be difficult on purpose. Build a wedge, his mind kept telling him. Take a step back. Let her go.

  “No, because of work. It had nothing to do with JB or McGowan Enterprises.”

  “I never thought it did,” he said as his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.

  “Then why do I get the impression that you’re angry with me?”

  “Not you.” His hands relaxed slightly.

  “Then who?”

  “Myself. For allowing it to go as far as it did.”

  “Tyler, we’re two adults, attracted to one another. Why would it be a problem?”

  “You’re here to do a job, isn’t that reason enough?”

  She just looked at him and he knew it was a cop-out answer.

  “Just forget it.” He glanced over at her. “It won’t—” He shook his head. “It can’t happen again.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so,” he replied sharply. “I’ve too much riding on this. I can’t afford to be distracted. Not now.”

  “Is that what you think I am?” Her arms crossed over her chest and for a split second, he remembered seeing her perfect bare breasts last night. Then he shook his head clear.

  “There are a lot of ways I think of you.” He turned off the main highway and started heading west. “But for now, I can’t indulge in the distractions.”

  The rest of the trip out to the Meier ranch, they rode in silence. He could tell she was upset but pushed that thought aside.

  Kristen stood back and watched as he met with the Meiers. Robyn and John were an older couple who had lived on the ranch since John’s grandfather passed away almost ten years ago. They’d moved from the city and had become part of Haven’s community. Even though they lived so far out of town, most people thought of them as family.

  The ranch had almost two hundred acres. None of which had ever been explored for oil until Robyn found out that there was a possibility of it hiding there.

  “I’ll have our Wildcat come out and take a look around. Jim is our petroleum geologist, he’ll come out and scout around and see what the possibilities are.”

  “What happens to the land?” John asked.

  They were standing on a large back porch, overlooking a massive field with a view that most people in the city would pay big bucks just to spend a night looking at.

  “Well, for starters, if you don’t want any of this to be disturbed”—he motioned to the field—“you’ve plenty of other places Jim can look at.”

  He watched John relax slightly. “It’s hard to think about losing something that makes you happy.” The man sighed.

  Tyler turned just in time to see an eagle fly across the sky.

  Suddenly, his heart yearned for just that. A place to make him happy. He hadn’t thought about owning a house. Renting one in town, maybe, but not purchasing a place of his own. And, for that matter, nothing outside of the town’s limits. But suddenly it was the only thing he could think of.

  “Why don’t we go in? I’ll show you a map of the area I was thinking of, and you can tell me what it is you do and what we should expect in the process.” John opened the back sliding door and they walked in.

  Kristen and Robyn were sitting at the kitchen table, each with a mug of hot liquid cupped in their hands. Both women were smiling and looked up at them when they walked in.

  “You have a beautiful place here,” Kristen said.

  “I thought I would die, moving out someplace so far away from the city,” Robyn said. “I’d never lived in the country before.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It took me a few months to get used to it, but now . . .” The woman sighed as her husband walked over and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t imagine being happy anywhere else.”
r />   CHAPTER TEN

  The house was as impressive as the home Tyler had grown up in. He knew that the place had been built by John’s father and grandfather, much like his own home had been built by his family.

  Kristen sat back quietly while Tyler talked to the Meiers about the process of hunting for oil, how they would drill then pump the oil, and once the well dried up, cap it all off. He went into great detail on how they would leave the land better than they had found it.

  “Of course, my brother Trent is in charge of what happens after. I can set up a meeting if you’d like?”

  “That would be fine. Maybe we can pick a sunny day when we can walk the land.”

  “I hear the cold is supposed to let up in a few weeks,” Tyler replied. “I’ll have him call you and arrange it.” He stood with John. “So, do we have a deal?”

  John glanced over at his wife. When Robyn nodded and smiled, Tyler reached out and shook the man’s hand.

  As they drove back into town, Kristen sat silently looking out the window.

  “Have you heard back from your boss?” Tyler asked, breaking the silence.

  “No, nothing new.” He heard the worry in her voice.

  “Have you found anything in our books that would give a clue as to what JB Holding’s plans are?”

  “Nothing. I haven’t found anything much out of order in your books, other than a few unpaid invoices.”

  “Unpaid? By McGowan?” he asked, glancing her way.

  “No, invoices sent to NewField and DW Petroleum,” she answered.

  “How many?”

  “Half a dozen. Totaling several tens of thousands.”

  “Why hasn’t Rea talked to me about this?” Worry flashed in his mind. Was the dependable assistant starting to slip?

  “I asked her. She said she usually waits four months before telling you.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Four and a half,” she answered, then he watched her bite her bottom lip.

  “Okay, sounds like I’ll need to have a chat with Rea when I get back.” He wondered why she hadn’t told him sooner.

  “She was going to tell you, then I arrived in town, and her son showed up, and then the break-in. With all the excitement, she probably forgot. Don’t hold it against her.”

  “I would never.” He sighed and wondered if he had come off as a tyrant.

  It was strange to have her defend Rea, his employee. Of course, most people ended up loving Rea. Even if they didn’t work with her.

  “I didn’t think you would,” she said under her breath.

  “Then why say anything?” he asked.

  “Because, up until this morning, I was pretty sure I had you pegged.”

  He laughed. “You haven’t been around me long enough to scratch the surface. What makes you think you could have me pegged so quickly?”

  He pulled into the parking lot of the Dancing Moose diner and shut off the truck. Then he turned to her, pinning her with his gaze, waiting for her to speak, but she remained silent.

  “Do you know why it’s called the Dancing Moose?” he asked, breaking her out of the trance. When she turned her eyes toward him, he gestured to the old building in front of them.

  “No. Why?” she finally said.

  “Well, back when they were still pulling gold from the hills, this used to be the only diner for miles. One evening, during a huge snowstorm, in the middle of a large wedding feast, the front doors flew open. Everyone at the party stopped and looked toward the wide-open doors. In walks the largest moose the town had ever seen. Well, the moose, seeing the crowd of partygoers, stopped in his tracks, took one look around, then started dancing around the floor.” Her chuckle stopped his story and he smiled. “Of course, the moment the men tried to capture the moose was the moment it went mad. Knocking over tables and chairs and terrorizing the partygoers.”

  Her eyes turned back to the old diner. “How did they finally get the moose out?”

  “Well, the story goes that he quietly walked out . . . once the party was over. Of course, another story tells of how the bride grabbed a carrot and coerced the beast out into the night. Neither were ever seen again.” He smiled over at her. She laughed. It was a beautiful sound.

  “Shall we?” he asked, once her giggles died down.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll never be able to walk through the doors without seeing a moose dancing around inside.”

  “Good,” he said, then got out and walked around to help her down.

  When they walked in, he smiled as one last giggle escaped her lips.

  But his laughter died in his chest before he could enjoy the feeling. Sitting across the floor at the bar was Dennis Rodgers, talking to Rea’s son, Brian. The men were hunched over as if trying to keep a secret in the crowded room.

  He was reminded of a time in high school when Brian had plotted with a few of his good-for-nothing buddies to jump Tyler after a football game. He’d seen them huddled together at the lunchroom table and had wondered what was up. Not until that next Friday night did he figure it out, way too late. He’d ended up with a black eye, sore ribs, and more bruises than he could count. Of course, he’d gotten in a few good punches too.

  But shortly after that incident, he’d cornered Brian’s two buddies and from then on out, it was only Brian he had to deal with.

  He wondered what the man was up to this time.

  Turning to Kristen, he sighed. “Would you mind grabbing us a booth? I have some . . . things to deal with first.”

  Kristen’s eyes moved over to the two men, and he was thankful that she immediately nodded and walked toward the back of the diner.

  “Afternoon,” he said a little too loud, causing the men to spring apart and glare up at him.

  “Tyler,” both men said at the same time.

  After a moment, Brian jumped up. “Well, I’d best be . . .” He rushed away quickly, leaving a full plate of unpaid-for food.

  “Dennis,” Tyler smirked down at the man.

  “What can I do for you, Tyler?” He sneered as he turned back to his food.

  “For starters, you can tell me what you want with Brian Laster.”

  “Who?” The man didn’t even blink.

  Instead of answering, Tyler nodded toward the door.

  “Job interview,” Dennis said.

  “Then I’ll give you a hint.” He leaned forward and squeezed the man’s shoulder tight. “Don’t hire him.” He squeezed once more, then turned and walked away.

  When he walked up to the booth, Kristen was on the phone, talking low. When she noticed him approaching, she excused herself and shut her phone off.

  “Problem?” he asked, sitting down across from her.

  Her eyes said it all. She was questioning something deep.

  “No, just . . . my boss.”

  “And?” He asked.

  “I’m no closer to understanding what they want.”

  “It must be frustrating.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Not having answers . . . or a purpose.”

  The rest of the spark died from her eyes.

  “I have a job to do.”

  “Yes, we all do.” He picked up his menu and glanced down at it. He knew every item on it, but spent the time silently debating his next move.

  Kristen sipped her soup, but couldn’t muster the strength to enjoy a drop of the richness. Her gut twisted and turned at what her boss had told her. That call had effectively killed the last bit of laughter Tyler’s moose story had inspired in her.

  She’d argued that she couldn’t do her job without all the facts, but he’d simply stated that she had all the facts she needed, and if she expected to succeed at JB, she would force the McGowans to sell out.

  She’d thought about giving her notice, but something had caused her to hold her tongue. Maybe she was too dumbfounded to speak, especially after Mr. Burnett had yelled at her for asking too many questions and not doing her job.

  Her st
omach rolled again and she pushed the still-full bowl away.

  “Is there something wrong with the soup?” Tyler asked her.

  Her eyes moved up to his and she shook her head slowly. “I’m just not hungry.”

  “Maybe you’d like some pie or cake instead?”

  “No, thank you.” She glanced down at her fingers. “I think I’ll head back to the hotel and get some rest. I’m not feeling like myself.”

  She avoided his eyes, since looking into the dark pools were too painful. She had a feeling he could read her thoughts by just looking. Something she couldn’t afford. Not until she could make sense of everything she was thinking and feeling.

  “If you wish.” His voice softened.

  Less than half an hour later, she leaned against the closed door of her small hotel room. It was becoming more of a prison than she’d ever imagined.

  Opening her eyes, she scanned the room. Her laptop sat opened on the small table. Walking over, she sat staring at the screen saver for a moment.

  Bright images of her and her mother flashed across the screen. Then one of her mother and aunt one Christmas crossed her vision and she leaned forward.

  She’d been asking herself what would cause someone to want the brothers to sell out. To send her there, until she convinced them to sign. Mr. Burnett had more than tripled the first offer he’d made the brothers.

  Why was JB Holding so desperate to get their hands on a small oil drilling company? Maybe it wasn’t JB pulling the strings?

  After all, the business was worth a lot. She’d found nothing in their financial books that even hinted at the business doing anything but growing. At least not since the brothers took over.

  She hadn’t thought through all the possibilities.

  She spent the next few hours staring at the computer screen, reading, searching for answers until her eyes burned. Then she showered, pulled out a box from the small freezer, and waited while her meal heated in the tiny microwave.

  She tried not to wonder what Tyler was doing. She’d been hurt by him, by his ability to shut down and shut her out. To label her a distraction. But she supposed she should be thankful that things had come to a halt before they’d gotten any further. Besides, did she really want to be with a man who could go from fun sexy-times to strictly business so easily?