Fate Mountain - Complete

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Fate Mountain - Complete Page 110

by Scarlett Grove


  “Sure is,” Jessie said, flipping through the pages. “Same as was filed with his lawyer.”

  “We checked,” Buck grumbled.

  “Shouldn’t Cyrus be here for this?” Leland asked.

  “We haven’t seen Cyrus in about as long as it’s been since we’ve seen you,” Buck said.

  Leland could tell he’d hit a nerve with his brother Buck. Buck and Jessie had stayed to work and live on the ranch with their dad after the war while Leland had gone off to manage a ranch in Texas, and Cyrus had taken to the woods.

  “You haven’t heard from him lately? How do you know he’s alright out there?”

  “Buck is exaggerating. Cyrus comes down from the mountain for supplies once or twice a year. I saw his ass like four months ago. Don’t you remember, Buck?”

  “Yeah, I remember. That chump looks like a real wild man nowadays,” Buck said, shaking his head.

  “Dad didn’t leave Cyrus anything special. Not like what he left you, Leland,” Jessie said.

  “Okay, let’s hear it,” Leland said, tired of waiting.

  “I hereby bequeath to my oldest son, Leland James Kincaid, fifty percent ownership of the Timber Bear Ranch and the title of Alpha of the Kincaid family.”

  “He left me majority share and the title of Alpha?” Leland repeated, shaking his head, stunned.

  The last time he’d been home, he and his father had fought. The two men had always butted heads, but after the war, Leland found his father’s lack of respect for him unbearable. So, he’d left.

  “That’s what it says,” Jessie said, handing Leland the papers. “Read it yourself.”

  Leland read the words, but they didn’t register. He’d taken time off work from his ranch management job in Texas to come home to clean up the aftermath of his father’s death and help his brothers, but he had not expected to be given the role of their leader.

  Even if he was the oldest and the rightful Alpha, he’d never expected his dad to make him his heir. Buck was the second oldest and had been there all along. It should have gone to him. By Buck’s expression, Leland had the impression that Buck felt the same way.

  “It does say that,” Leland concluded.

  “What now, Boss Bear?” Buck asked.

  Buck was usually a straight shooter so his sarcastic tone was clumsy and obvious, making it sting even worse than it would have if Jessie had said the same thing.

  “Where is the herd?”

  “I have no idea,” Jessie said, standing up.

  Jessie’s usual bright smile returned to his face for a brief moment before he started to back out of the room.

  “That was all Dad’s department,” Buck said.

  “You guys don’t even know where the herd is?”

  “I’d check the north pasture,” Jessie said, gripping the front doorknob.

  He slipped outside and Leland looked at Buck, who was supposed to be the responsible one of the two.

  “Dad ran the herd. You and I both know that. I helped with branding and castration and whenever Dad wanted me to fix a fence line. Aside from that, it was hands off. I’ve been managing the timber rotation for years.”

  “The north pasture, in this weather? What was dad thinking?”

  “Dad had been acting strange. Snappier than usual. Not a good time to ask him about his precious cattle.”

  “So you just left them there?” Leland said, getting irritated.

  Buck stood, his face like a statue. Leland knew he was pressing his brother and it wouldn’t get him anything but a stone-cold shoulder.

  “Looks like you finally got what you always wanted, control of the herd, the ranch, and all of us. Congratulations, brother.”

  “For crap’s sake, Buck. I just got here. I had no idea Dad left me all this. I’m a rancher. What do you expect when I hear the herd is in a notoriously muddy pasture during the rainy season?”

  “You’re right,” Buck said, shaking his head darkly, before sighing and leaving the house without another word.

  Leland sat alone in the parlor. His mother’s furniture and decorating tastes were still evident throughout the house. It was like things hadn’t changed in all these years, even with only men living in the space.

  A vase filled with peacock feathers sat on the fireplace at the center of the room. Leland gazed up at the multicolored old feathers and thought of his mom. What a sweet bear shifter lady she’d been. Gone far too soon for anyone. They’d lost her when Jessie was little. A terrible accident that had left them all scared.

  Leland pulled himself out of dark memories of the past and hurried outside. If he was the new Alpha of the Timber Bear Ranch, then he was going to do his gosh darn job.

  Chapter 2

  Sylvia Becker slammed the front door of her apartment with a loud groan and kicked off her reasonable nude pumps. She couldn’t remember the last time when she had been so irritated. This was the absolute last time she was going on a blind date.

  As she made her way to the kitchen to find the pan of chocolate fudge brownies she’d made the night before, her fat orange cat Charlie rubbed against her ankles and meowed at her, looking for attention.

  She was too irritable to scratch Charlie behind the ears, which usually calmed her down. Today had to be one of the worst days she’d ever experienced in her twenty-eight years of life. Instead of just taking one brownie, Sylvia grabbed the entire pan and make her way into her bedroom, where she peeled out of her professional-looking beige skirt suit and climbed into a pair of fuzzy flannel pajamas.

  Hefting the pan of brownies, Sylvia trudged into the living room and flopped down onto her navy-blue corduroy couch, propped her legs up on the coffee table, and turned on the television. After a day like today, she needed some emotional healing. Clicking on the remote as she shoved a brownie into her mouth, she came to a channel dedicated to romantic comedies. One of her favorites was playing and she let out a long sigh of contentment.

  Usually, Sylvia’s favorite genre was docudramas. But at times like these, romantic comedy really hit the spot. It was like cotton candy at a circus. Circus being the operative word in that metaphor, considering every guy she went out with was a clown. Charlie hopped up on the couch and settled in beside her, purring and rubbing his face against her thigh for attention.

  “At least you love me, Charlie,” she said, pushing her horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, her mouth full of brownie.

  She knew it was pathetic to seek love from her cat. But she didn’t care. Nothing could be more pathetic than the experience she had just had. Why in the world had she agreed to go out on another blind date set up by her mother?

  Her mother, Rosemarie Becker, was a sweet woman. Sylvia had mountains of respect for her. She had given birth to her twenty-eight years ago, and for that, Sylvia would always be grateful.

  She prided herself on being a good daughter, a good employee, and an all-around good person. Just because she was an auditor didn’t mean she was an evil bitch. But that didn’t keep most men from assuming that she was.

  As the lady on screen in the romantic comedy was getting wined and dined by the guy, Sylvia recalled the nightmare she had just awoken from.

  She and her blind date had agreed to meet at a bar downtown after work, which should have been a red flag in the first place. Sure, meeting for drinks was the new first date thing to do—who had time for dinner anymore, anyway?—but Sylvia didn’t like the trend.

  But instead of insisting she was treated with the respect she deserved, she had decided to go on the date anyway. Her mom had set her up, and had insisted he was a great guy—and maybe when he had met her mother, he had been a great guy, but that certainly hadn’t been the case on their date.

  Sylvia had received a text message from Tim right before getting off work. He had wanted to meet up in only fifteen minutes. It wasn’t as if Sylvia had time to go home and change for her date. She was forced to go out in what she’d worn to work that morning. Considering Sylvia worked as an a
uditor, there was a certain look that tended to go with that job. And that was how she had arrived to the “date.”

  He got one look at her in her beige skirt suit, nude pumps, severe bun, and beige lipstick, and you would think that she’d broken some federal law. Sylvia should have taken a hint from the startled and somewhat disgusted look on his face and walked away right then. But, of course, she did not.

  After she’d paid for her own glass of white wine, that was when things got really interesting. It was too difficult to hear anything in the crowded, noisy bar he’d chosen, so before she had even finished half her glass of wine, he asked her if she wanted to leave.

  She should have said no. And as she sat there eating brownies and watching the romantic comedy on television, she was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that at that very moment in time, she should have definitely said no.

  “Boundaries, Sylvia,” she muttered to herself.

  But instead of having boundaries, she’d followed the guy out of the bar and down the street. She worked in the business district in Portland and they had met up at a bar nearby. But Tim had started motoring down the street toward the river without even waiting for her to keep up. As conservative as her pumps might have been, they were still pumps, and she simply could not keep up with a grown man walking at full speed. When she had finally caught up with him and grasped his arm to try to slow him down, he looked at her with daggers in his eyes.

  Again, she should have just walked away. Why didn’t she walk away?

  Sylvia shook her head at herself and grumbled, shoving another piece of brownie in her mouth. If she cared that her voluptuous curves might become more voluptuous from the brownies, she would’ve stopped. But she didn’t. So she kept stress eating, and at least it made her feel slightly better.

  After Tim had stopped on the sidewalk and looked her straight in the face, he’d asked her what she’d wanted. This whole setup was supposed to be a date. So, obviously, that was what she had expected. But the guy was acting so strangely and so dismissively toward her that she just blurted out the most secret desire she’d never dared to share with anyone.

  “I want to get married and have babies,” she’d said on the sidewalk as the cold spring wind blew up from the Columbia River.

  You would have thought she was the most hilarious comedienne to ever step foot on the face of the earth when she’d said that. He started laughing his ass off and wouldn’t stop. He was doubled over, standing in front of her on the sidewalk, cracking up like he might pee himself.

  “What’s so funny?” she’d asked him.

  “You want to get married and have babies?” he’d said, still laughing.

  “Yeah, so?” she’d said crossing her arms over her breasts.

  “Here’s a little hint, honey,” he’d said, moving in close to her and gripping her shoulder too tightly. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and could tell that he had had quite a head start on her at the bar. “If you want to catch a man, you’re better off not dressing like a librarian on your first date.”

  “This is how I dress to work,” she said, remembering that she had wanted to put on red lipstick before leaving the office. There hadn’t been any in her bag so she’d reapplied the nude color she’d worn to work that day. “You didn’t give me any time to go home and get ready. So, this is how I arrived.”

  “Well, I’d still be willing to take you back to my place.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she asked completely flabbergasted.

  She couldn’t believe his gall. Who did he think he was? She’d pulled out of his grasp and stared at him. This was the biggest problem with the dating scene. It seemed that no matter how beautiful and successful and competent she might be, the men always expected more. More beautiful. More successful. More competent. And these same exact men were balding and overweight. Or too drunk to carry on an adult conversation. It just wasn’t fair.

  If she could just meet a man who could see her for who she really was, and what she really had to give. But she had never met one in the concrete jungle where she worked. Most guys were completely self-absorbed or already taken. At twenty-eight years old, she was beginning to feel like her chance for love and a family had already passed her by.

  After she’d refused to go back to Tim’s place, he’d brushed by her without another word and taken off back down the street, leaving her alone in the cold. She’d had to walk all the way back to her parking lot alone and drive home. Not only had it been a complete waste of her time, it had left her deeply hurt. The fact that a guy like Tim could hurt her feelings made her feel even worse.

  “I definitely need to work on my boundaries, Charlie,” she said.

  That was when her cell phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the caller ID. “Mom.”

  “Great,” Sylvia said, flicking her finger over the answer button.

  “How did it go?” her mother asked.

  “Mom! Where do you find these men?” she demanded, not bothering to soften her tone.

  “What happened? Tim seemed like such a great guy when I met him at the market.”

  “Mom, just because somebody seems like a great guy to you in the grocery store doesn’t mean that he is husband material.”

  “What happened, Sylvia?”

  “It was the worst experience of my life,” she mumbled.

  “You would think that a grown woman who works as an auditor wouldn’t exaggerate so much,” her mother chided.

  “I’m not exaggerating. First, he didn’t even pay for my drink. Which is fine, but still. Then he wanted to leave before I was even done with my wine. When I touched him because he was walking too fast he looked at me like my touch burned his skin. Then he insulted my clothes. After telling me my looks will never catch me a man, he invited me back to his place… Need I go on?”

  “Sweetheart,” her mother said in a more sympathetic tone. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

  “Mom,” Sylvia said. “I’m never going on another blind date that you sent me up on ever again.”

  “Never say never, Sylvia.”

  “In this instance, I am definitely saying never.”

  “Have it your way, dear. Just don’t blame me when you’re thirty-seven and still don’t have a husband or any children,” her mother said before hanging up the phone.

  “God dammit,” Sylvia growled, throwing her cell phone to the other end of the couch.

  It plopped on the cushion with an unsatisfying thud, causing Charlie to meow and start scratching the couch upholstery. Sylvia scratched Charlie’s ears until he started to purr. Having her warm kitty by her side, a pan of chocolate fudge brownies, and a romantic comedy playing on the big screen did help the sting of yet another terrible date.

  Chapter 3

  Dame, the big brown quarter horse, grunted in her stall as Leland entered the barn. She was an experienced twelve-year-old who knew her way around the herd. He remembered her from when he’d come home for a few months after the war, seven years ago.

  He saddled her up and made his way outside. Leland squinted in the sunlight as the rainclouds parted in the distance, leaving a yellow-gray cast over the land. His brothers had said the herd was in the northern pasture by the river. The saturated spring ground was muddy under Dame’s feet as they made their way down the hill.

  Walking out into the muddy pasture, he found plenty of hoof prints but no cattle. His heart sank and started to slam in his chest. He was a rancher, born and bred, even if his brothers had given up on their family’s heritage; he had not.

  He whistled for the herd, trying to spot heads or tails of them. As he encouraged Dame through the pasture, he heard a muted moo off in the distance, coming from down by the river. He turned Dame’s head and followed the sound coming to the fence line. Following the fence line, he stopped at a huge break in the barbed wire lines. Dismounting Dame, he gritted his teeth and moved closer to inspect the wire.

  The line had clearly been cut. Three neat clips had been mad
e by wire cutters at some point. Nothing natural made cuts that clean. Leland looked around, his mind racing. Who the hell would cut his father’s fences? He got back on Dame and started down to the river on the other side of the fence. It was muddier and rougher terrain on the other side, but soon he found the herd.

  His family’s herd of black Angus cattle were standing by the raging river in at least six inches of mud. Leland’s chest clenched. It was worse than he’d feared. He growled to himself as he walked Dame past one of the new mothers who was nursing her baby calf. He dismounted and knelt to inspect the mother from a distance. The herd was used to horses and men and the momma cow didn’t balk at his proximity. Not that it would have made much difference. The damage was already done.

  They had wet hoof and it was going to get really bad in about six seconds if he didn’t get them somewhere dry. Even the northern pasture was too muddy, let alone the river bank. He knew the high pasture to the south near the road should be nice and dry, but he didn’t know if the fence line was intact. Something strange was going on at the ranch.

  He rode up to the barn and dismounted Dame, looking across to the machine shop. Neither Jessie nor Buck were anywhere in sight, and the timber harvester was gone, along with one of Jessie’s dirt bikes. Leland gritted his teeth and went to the barn, leaving Dame tied to a hitching post. He went into a side room where his dad kept veterinary equipment. The herd was going to need about a metric ton of medicine. Leland looked in the mini-fridge and found a few dog vaccines. Not helpful.

  He closed the mini-fridge door and grumbled again. He’d have to special order it from the feed store. When he came back outside, he heard the distinct sound of a dirt bike motor jumping over something somewhere in the distance. He looked at his horse and shook his head. Jessie was off playing on his dirt bike. Buck was up in the mountain cutting timber. God only knew where Cyrus was. And the herd was sitting down in the muddiest place on Timber Bear Ranch!

  “Come on, Dame. Let’s see about this fence line.”

 

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