by Seton, Cora
“We’re fine,” Renata called back.
“See you at the bunkhouse!” And he was off again, urging his horse on, at home in the saddle.
She hadn’t seen this side of Greg before.
“You love him, don’t you?” Byron asked, still filming.
Renata didn’t answer, and he turned the camera to her. He wasn’t going to let her hide. She wouldn’t either, if their positions were reversed. She nodded. “Yes, I love him.”
“Then don’t let Fulsom—or Clem—get in your way.”
As his horse flew over the snowy ground, Greg thought he’d never felt so much alive. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was pure and heady, the night air cool against his flushed skin, the bison thundering past him all muscle and motivation, racing just to race at this point, he thought. All of them acting on instinct alone.
“Think they’ll stop when we reach the pasture?” Jericho called, angling near him. His mount’s sides were heaving, but none of their horses were slowing down.
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out,” Greg called back.
It was coming up fast.
“What if they go right past?”
“We’ll have to round them up all over again.”
Greg kept his wits about him, but something caught his eye in the distance. Figures milling around by the pasture gate. “Someone’s there!” He pointed.
“They’d better be careful!” Jericho veered off. Ahead of them, Walker was urging his horse forward, trying to get to the head of the herd.
“They’re not going to turn,” Greg shouted even though no one was near enough to hear him, but just as he’d given up all hope and resigned himself to a night of chasing after bison, wheeling them around again and again until they somehow got them into the pasture, a set of powerful lights flicked on, and then another and another—more and more until a whole row of headlights lit up the night.
Boone and Clay, urging their horses on the far side of the herd, whooped and hollered, and the bison, caught between them and the vehicles, began to swerve.
Greg shouted and rode on, corralling the giant beasts from his side, along with Jericho and Walker.
“They’re going in!”
Greg wasn’t sure who shouted the words, but they were right; the bison were racing for the gate of the pasture, siphoning in between riders and the line of trucks. Once inside, they raced in a wide arc within the confines of the pasture, their pace slowing, some animals breaking off, turning against the tide, slowing all of them down.
When three or four neighbor men shut the gate behind the last animal, a whoop went up from all sides.
“We did it!” Greg high-fived Jericho, riding past. Clay tossed his hat in the air. Men and women climbed out of the line of trucks, shouting greetings and expressions of relief.
“When they started coming straight for us, I thought we were done for,” a woman called.
“Me, too,” someone answered.
“Everybody come up to the bunkhouse,” Boone shouted. “We’ve got something hot for everyone, at the very least, right, Kai?”
“You got it,” Kai shouted.
“There’s more reinforcements coming,” Ethan Cruz called out. “Autumn will be here any minute with some food.”
“So will Fila and Camila,” Ned Matheson added. “They’re bringing stuff from the restaurant.”
Greg hung back with some of the others to ride the perimeter of the pasture fence line and make sure there were no breaks. Some of their visitors arranged to take short guard shifts while everyone else celebrated so no one would have to miss out completely.
By the time he reached the bunkhouse, a stream of people were walking up the hill toward the manor.
“Too many to fit here,” Boone called out to them. “Grab something from the kitchen and come, too. Renata’s already at the manor,” he added as if he’d read Greg’s mind.
“There’s nothing left to bring,” Kai said, appearing in the bunkhouse’s doorway, lugging a bowl of something. “I’ve sent everything I have with the others. Can you close the door behind me, though?”
“Sure.”
At the manor, it looked like the whole town had turned up for the impromptu celebration. Someone had lugged out the folding tables they used for their weddings, and the large ballroom was filled with people. A stream of women carried covered dishes and set them on the tables. Others brought out plates, cups and cutlery.
“How’d everyone cook so fast?” Greg asked Austin Hall, who was just walking past with his wife, Ella. He’d met the man at other gatherings in town.
“Are you kidding? Chance Creek women have casseroles on hand for just such occasions,” Austin joked.
“This is our dinner for tomorrow,” Ella said, setting a serving dish on the table with the others. “I heated it up while you men were saving the day.”
“Should have let you round up the bison. She’s a crack rider,” Austin told Greg proudly.
“I’ll bet.” Greg knew about her equine therapy program.
He caught sight of Renata and Byron filming the proceedings on the other side of the room. “Catch up with you later,” he told Ella and Austin and made his way to them.
“You both look none the worse for wear,” he said, giving Renata a frank look up and down.
“Nothing touched us,” Renata said. “It was a perfect position to film the proceedings. We got great footage.”
“I’m the one who got great footage.” Clem sidled up to them.
William, who was standing nearby, shook his head. “We got footage of some bison that broke away from the herd and galloped around in circles for a little bit. We were much too far away to get anything interesting.”
“We got interesting stuff,” Clem contradicted.
“Like hell we did.” William didn’t seem willing to put up with Clem’s games tonight. He leaned forward to catch Byron’s eye. “I hope you got something as good as Renata’s saying, or we missed a bonanza.”
“We were right in the middle of the herd and filmed everything! I’ll tell Fulsom it was you who got it,” Renata told Byron. “Maybe he’ll give you a raise.”
“It doesn’t matter what happened tonight. In every way that matters, I’m the better director than you,” Clem said.
“You aren’t better than me at anything,” Renata retorted.
“I know how to rile people up and get a great story. I know how to film people when they don’t suspect a thing. I know how to dig up dirt and release it at exactly the right moment.” Clem ticked the items off on his fingers.
“But you’re weak,” Renata said. “You always fall short. You don’t command any respect. You don’t have any sense of theme or purpose. You can’t keep an audience interested.” She ticked her statements off her fingers, too.
“I don’t fall short.” Clem stepped close to her. “When I set a goal, I win it.”
Renata made a derisive sound. “Prove it.”
“I’ll prove it. I’ll beat you at your favorite game. What’s more, I’ll make it worth your while. One hundred thousand.”
“One hundred thousand what?” Renata snapped.
“Dollars. What else?” Clem asked. “You’re all about the Benjamins, right? I’ll give you a stack of them. If you can beat me.”
“That’s ridiculous. Renata’s not going to risk losing money like that,” Greg said, but when Clem smiled triumphantly, he realized he’d walked right into the man’s trap. “I mean—”
“That’s right,” Clem said over him. “Renata’s a loser. She’s the one who falls short, and she knows it.”
“Renata never falls short,” Avery stated.
“Admit it,” Clem demanded of Renata. “You’re nothing. Ten years working for a billionaire, and you’re still living hand to mouth. How much gambling do you do in your spare time?”
“Renata doesn’t live hand to mouth,” Eve said.
“Say it.” Clem moved even closer. Greg stepped forward to g
et between them, but Renata put up a hand.
“I’m not a loser,” she said tightly.
“But you don’t have a penny to your name, do you? You’ve got no family. No one to bail you out. No one to tell you you’re an addict and you need help,” Clem said. “Come on, addict. One last game. For one hundred grand.”
“I don’t have a hundred grand,” she spat. “And neither do you.”
“I’ve got a hell of a lot more than that.” Clem’s grin mocked her. “Here’s what we’ll do. You win, you get the money. I win, you leave Base Camp and Chance Creek for good.”
“No!” Greg blurted, stepping between them. “Renata, don’t listen to him. You don’t have to prove anything—”
She ignored him. “One hundred thousand dollars?” she repeated.
Clem nodded.
She put out her hand. He shook it.
“Renata—” Greg tried again.
“Deal,” she said.
This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. She had no doubt she could beat Clem on any normal day, but he’d just made the stakes so high her hands were shaking. On the other hand, if she won, she might get everything she wanted.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Greg said.
She was knocked off-guard by his anger, but then she looked at it through his eyes. He thought she was risking her future with him. Didn’t he see this was the only way they had a chance to have a future together?
She couldn’t tell him that until she’d won the game, though. If Clem got any indication of how devastated she’d be if she lost, he’d press that advantage hard.
“Trust me” was all she said. Greg rolled his eyes.
“Trust you? When you trust no one? That’s rich.” He strode away to the far side of the room, leaving Renata to wonder what he meant.
“Let’s get this game going,” Clem said. He pulled out two nickels. “Same rules as before.”
“Same rules,” she agreed and shook herself free from the thoughts tangling in her mind. She’d sort things out with Greg in a minute—
Or she wouldn’t, depending on how this game went.
The truth of what she’d done hit her like an eighteen-wheeler, leaving her shaken, struggling to control her breath. If she lost this game—
If she lost—
She might never see Greg again.
“Ready to get your ass kicked?” Clem asked.
Renata swallowed hard. Took a deep breath. She could do this.
She had to.
Her first toss landed close to the wall, no thanks to her shaking hands or skipping heart. Lucky. A lucky shot. She couldn’t depend on those to win this contest.
Clem tossed and landed just a little farther from the wall than she had.
Renata went to fetch the coins, calming down a little. She’d beat Clem handily before.
“Don’t get cocky,” he warned her.
“Whatever.” She tossed her coin again and swore when it bounced off the wall farther away than she’d like it to land. Screw up, she willed at Clem, but he didn’t. His coin landed within a half inch from the wall.
“That’s how a pro plays the game,” he said.
“Right. You’re definitely a pro,” Renata sneered. Taunting him made her more comfortable now. This felt familiar.
Clem chuckled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He tossed his coin, and it landed within a hairbreadth of the wall. Renata’s stomach sank. It was hard to beat lucky breaks like that. She tossed, too, but was a half inch off the mark.
“Two–one,” Avery said.
Renata won the next round, and the next. Her confidence came back. A glance told her Greg was watching from across the room. He wouldn’t be able to see the coins from there, but Avery tallied the score loudly each round so that everyone could hear.
When Renata won the next round, she sighed in relief. This was more like it. She won another round, and hope blossomed inside her. A hundred grand would get her so close to paying off her promise she could easily marry Greg, stay at Base Camp and find some way to pay the rest—
“Four to two, Renata winning,” Avery said.
“Let’s do this,” Renata said to Clem.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he warned her.
“I’m winning.”
“Maybe it’s time to put a stop to that.”
She didn’t think he’d unnerved her again, but her next shot wasn’t stellar. Clem won the round and fetched the coins. “Watch this.”
He won the next round, and the next, and the next and the next.
“Seven–four, Clem’s winning,” Avery said worriedly.
She wasn’t the only one worrying. Renata’s hands had started shaking again. Clem was tossing the coins differently—as if he knew what he was doing. He’d never done that before.
“Think you’re the only one who grew up in foster care?” Clem sneered as he handed her a coin. “Think you’re the only one who was ever bored shitless day after day? The only one no one bothered to feed sometimes?”
He tossed his coin, and it landed so close to the wall they both had to go and inspect it to make sure it wasn’t touching.
“The trick to playing someone is to make sure they’re not playing you,” Clem said. “And to be clear—I’ve been playing you since the moment I got here, Ludlow.”
Renata ignored him. Tossed her nickel.
Lost.
Greg had drifted closer. “You don’t have to do this, Renata. You can stop right now.”
“No, she can’t,” Clem retorted. “She made the bet. She shook on it. She was all ready to take my money. All of you were willing to let her.” He turned to Avery. “Say the score. Eight–four.”
“Eight–four,” Avery whispered. “Come on, Renata, you can do this.”
Renata swallowed hard. She wasn’t at all sure she could.
Chapter Sixteen
‡
“Help her,” Angus growled in Greg’s ear when he wheeled around to walk away again.
Help her? Renata had taken this stupid bet without thinking twice about the repercussions if she lost. She was so money-hungry, so determined to prove herself against Clem, she didn’t care that if she tossed her nickels wrong, she’d be gone, and he’d have to marry someone else.
“Don’t blow this,” Angus said.
“I’m not the one who’s blowing this,” Greg returned in a furious whisper. “She’s the one who’s putting money ahead of everything else.”
“Did you ever think to ask why?”
“She won’t tell me.”
“Nine–four,” Avery said. “Renata, take a break. Clem, leave her alone. You don’t get to bully her into losing.”
Angus jabbed Greg in the shoulder. “You keep saying you love her. That you want to marry her. And yet, the first time the chips are down, she’s over there and you’re over here. Maybe she’s got a reason for needing that money. Maybe if she hasn’t told you what it is, it’s because she doesn’t trust you to understand and be there for her. You’re about to lose the woman you love. Get over there and fight!”
“How?” Angus’s accusations stung.
“Stand by her side. Tell her she can do it.” Angus shoved him in the right direction. “Hurry.”
Greg hesitated until Renata turned, searching the room for him. She held a glass of water in her hand that Avery had put there, but she wasn’t drinking it.
When their gazes met, he read the desperation in hers, and something shuddered through his whole body—the need to protect her from Clem.
That’s what he had been put on this earth to do. He’d told her that once, hadn’t he?
Angus was right; he was blowing this. Renata needed him.
What the hell was he doing over here?
He crossed the room in several long strides, lifted the glass in her hand higher. “Take a drink. Settle down. You’ve got this. You’ve beaten this clown a half-dozen times.”
“He was playing me. He knew how to win all the ti
me,” she whispered shakily. “Greg, I don’t want to leave.”
His heart nearly missed a beat, but then it caught up, pounding hard to match the ache in his throat. “I don’t want you to leave. I love you. You know that, right?”
She nodded.
“I want you to stay, and I want you to win that money, whatever you need it for. I’m right here, okay? Clem can’t touch you when I’m right here.”
“But if I lose—”
“You’re not going to lose.” Greg gripped both her shoulders. “Hear me? You’re going to win because you need to stay right here, get your job back if that’s what you want and marry me. Because I want to spend the rest of my life being right here for you no matter what you do.”
Renata’s lips parted. After a moment, she nodded.
“Don’t go getting all sappy on me, Ludlow,” he whispered in her ear, pulling her into a fierce hug. “You’ve spent months cutting every last one of us men down to size. You know what you’re doing with a lightweight like Clem.”
She laughed, blinked back the tears gathering in her eyes and nodded again.
“You can do this,” Greg assured her. “Win this game, and I’ll take you out for another spin in my truck,” he added.
Her smile broadened. “You really think you’re something, don’t you?”
“I know you are.”
Renata wiped her eyes on her sleeves, took another gulp of water, set the glass down on a nearby table and returned to face Clem.
“Done with your pity party?” he sneered. “You won’t miss that overgrown ape.”
“You’re right, I won’t.” She took the coin he handed her, waited for him to toss and then took aim.
Clem’s coin was close to the wall, but hers was closer.
“Nine–five,” Avery said.
“I won’t miss him because I’m not leaving.”
“Getting cocky tripped you up before,” Clem pointed out, snatching his nickel from her angrily when she scooped up the coins and handed one to him.