by Nicole Helm
“Not funny, and I will remind you of all your disparaging feelings on love and marriage when you find yourself shackled to some woman who keeps you in line.”
Caleb snorted. He might—someday far in the future—not mind the family life, but he didn’t think it was in his cards. It’s in you. He’d have to believe he could rise above that, but Mom’s little mantra seared into his brain.
He was still working to believe he could be halfway decent. Fully decent was probably a step too far.
But Mel’s humor was short-lived. “The ranch is in a bad spot.”
“It has been for a long time.” So what was more time? He’d find an answer. So the bank refused his attempt at a loan even after they’d paid off Dad’s medical debts—it didn’t mean he couldn’t find some way for Shaw to survive.
“We can’t keep going like this. I tried to give you some time, but we can’t keep ignoring how little Shaw’s making and how much more it’s costing. I know you don’t want us to use Dan’s money on—”
“Why should his money pay for the ranch? Dad’s medical stuff was enough.” It ate at Caleb, that Dan had swept in and erased all the debts from Dad’s accident and made the house wheelchair accessible. Like a fucking saint or some shit.
He hadn’t had a choice in that. It needed to be paid off, and even if he’d turned the tide on the ranch, he’d have spent forever trying to get to the end of that debt. But the ranch was Shaw, had been since before Montana had been a damn state.
He wouldn’t let anyone swoop in and put their name on it. Shaw was his, and even if Mel still had a legal claim, she’d left. Her life was her husband and her husband’s ranch. His life was Shaw.
“He has the money. Sitting there. We have the money. How can you expect me to stand by and watch…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but my name is on all those papers, not yours. I won’t let you run it into the ground just because of your stubborn pride.”
“And I won’t let your husband’s money fix all my mistakes. I’m going to do this.”
“You don’t have enough money. You don’t have enough cattle. You can’t get a loan. I can’t get a loan. This is your only option.”
“It isn’t.”
“Name one other option. Just one.” She placed her hands on the table, palms up—a pleading gesture.
“Trust me.”
“Then name one. You want to run Shaw, name one way we don’t come out in the red this year.”
What he wouldn’t give for a lie to form. Some bullshit story. He used to be really good at making up bullshit stories, but that had been back in his drinking days when his imagination was typically aided by beer or whiskey. “Give me more time.”
“How much more time is there? I know I’ve been busy with Dan’s spread, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep my eye on Shaw.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
She leaned back in the booth, jaw going hard as she looked at some point behind him.
It hurt, plain and simple, but she had chosen to leave. She didn’t get to act like she was Shaw anymore, even if it was her name on the deed.
It was only him now.
“I’m a grown adult,” he said as evenly as he could manage. “I have changed my ways. Every last stupid one of them.”
He swallowed at the emotion in his throat, because the bottom line was, he was powerless here. Mel had all the cards. The money, the power with Dad… Hell, in a legal dispute, she’d probably win too.
He had nothing, except this. And they’d agreed to be honest last year. When Summer showed up, they’d agreed to stop pretending everything was fine. This wasn’t fine.
So, he looked her straight in the eye and gave as much honesty as he could muster. “Do not take this away from me.”
Her whole body slumped. “Caleb.”
“Give me through the spring. We had a rough winter. Things are bad. Give me through the spring to make up some ground. We’ll mark it June 1. That’s when you started working for Dan last year. One year of me at the helm—you’ve got to give me that. We won’t lose it all before that.”
“And if things are still failing on June 1?”
“I’ll do whatever you want. Dan can buy me out. I will do whatever it is you want from me.”
“We’d never buy you out, Caleb. You’ll always have a place at Shaw. It is yours as much as mine. But at some point, you have to take the money. And at some point, you have to let…”
She trailed off, but Caleb knew what she was going to say. Let her take over. Let her make the decisions. Which would make the ranch theirs. He might still work it, but if Dan paid off the debts, if Mel took over how the ranch was run…he’d be nothing more than a ranch hand.
He’d have failed at everything, and he didn’t know how to live with that. “So, it’s a deal?”
Mel chewed on her lip for a few seconds, and then Georgia stopped by and quickly slid them their food.
“Give me a few more months to make it right. I can make it right.”
She stared down at her hamburger. “How?”
That was the question. He didn’t have an answer to it, and he wasn’t sure what would change between now and June. Maybe nothing would, but something about being sober had taught him he had to try.
Even if he failed spectacularly. “June 1. Deal?”
She took a deep breath and blew it out. “All right. And I know we’ll be busy with llama season this spring, but if you need my help, you ask. Got it?”
“I don’t even want to know what llama season is.”
“Caleb.”
“Okay, okay. I got it.”
“They grow on you. The llamas.”
“Maybe on you, nut job.” She smiled, and he almost felt like less of a tool. He even let her talk all about llamas all through lunch, and when Dan reappeared, he waved her away so he could finish his lunch in peace.
She touched his shoulder gingerly—they still weren’t quite used to easy touches. It was never much a part of their growing up. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.” He’d just make sure not to need her. “And don’t you dare pay on your way out.”
She laughed, heading straight for the cash register and not listening to him, which was for the best, since he’d given Delia his only twenty yesterday.
It was about the last thing he wanted to think about right now. His entire next two months needed to be Shaw and Shaw alone. No Delia distractions allowed. Which meant he had to get her the hell out of there.
Caleb popped his final fry into his mouth and was about to slide out of the booth when another man slid in opposite of him.
Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Tyler.”
Tyler nodded. “Caleb.”
Caleb wasn’t unused to running into people he had an awkward history with; that was the nature of a small town and being a former ne’er-do-well. But having Tyler Parker, Mel’s ex-fiancé, and someone Caleb had never been particularly nice to, sitting across from him at Georgia’s was plain weird.
“Can I help you with something?”
“I couldn’t help but overhear you and Mel’s conversation.”
“Couldn’t help but.” My ass.
“I have a proposition for you. A business proposition that might help you.”
Caleb actually laughed aloud, even though he’d never known Tyler to be anything but serious and honest. “And why would you want to help me?”
“I can’t say I want to help you, but it’s a situation that would be mutually beneficial. I have other options, but you’re in an interesting spot.”
Caleb clenched his fingers into a fist under the table and then relaxed. Interesting spot did not begin to cover his life right now. “And you think you can help me out.”
“I need land.”
“I’m not selling.”
“I’m not looking to buy. I’m looking to lease.”
Lease. Temporary. Huh. But he couldn’t get over the fact that this was Tyler, who was a super upstanding citizen, and also a straight shooter. He didn’t play games. So, what the hell was this? “I repeat, why would you want to lease from me?”
“Well, it’s not as if you’re any good at keeping the fence between our land in good repair. Might as well use that to my advantage for once. I need more grazing space for spring. You need cash. So, I’m offering to lease it from you.”
The problem with too good to be true was that Caleb never, ever trusted it. “Why?”
“I need land. Your land is the best option. Believe me, I wish it didn’t come with you at the helm, but I’m a businessman. Your sister says you’ve changed, and I’m inclined to believe Mel.”
“Mel’s married, you know?”
Tyler’s attempt at a friendly smile went completely flat. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“Happily.”
“I’ve caught on, thanks.”
It wasn’t that Caleb had ever hated Tyler. He’d thought Tyler was a decent enough guy, if a little uptight. But old habits died hard, and he was used to pushing Tyler’s perfectly buttoned buttons. “So, it doesn’t matter what you offer—this isn’t going to help her or get into her good graces.”
“I’m not looking to get into Mel’s good graces, Caleb. I’m looking to help each other out. Trust me, I wouldn’t be offering anything to you if you weren’t a last resort.”
Caleb couldn’t mask his surprise. The Tyler he remembered would never have let a snarky comment like that slip out, no matter how much he may have thought it.
“I don’t trust you, Caleb.”
“Gee, and here I was thinking you’d suddenly found me inexplicably attractive.”
Tyler attempted a smile, but Caleb could tell he didn’t care for the joke.
“So you want me to lease you my north pasture for the season?”
“Yes. On a few conditions.”
Ah, yes, the kind of conditions meant to remind Caleb exactly who and what he was considered in this town. Ridiculous hoops no one expected him to be able to jump through. He’d been down this road a few times the past few months.
People he’d once wronged in some way saw his crappy situation as a way to wrong him right back, and since Mel was happily married to Mr. Moneybags, people had no compunction enacting revenge.
So, he knew exactly what kind of conditions these would be. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean he could walk away. This could be his chance to prove Mel wrong. “What kind of conditions?”
“One, I’d get to randomly drop by and inspect things, make sure my cattle aren’t being mistreated when I’m not around.”
“I don’t mistreat animals. Mine or anyone else’s, even if they aren’t in my care.”
“You neglect your own, and that’s a fact. It’s enough to make me think you might mistreat them if given the opportunity. I know you don’t like me. Maybe you’d want to mess with me that way.”
Caleb pushed away from the booth. “Fuck this,” he muttered. He’d never neglected an animal in his life. Sober. And Tyler was asking to lease land, not asking Caleb to care for his damn cows. What did a few past mistakes matter?
“You can afford to walk away from a few grand, Caleb?”
Caleb stopped and allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to turn and knock a fist into Tyler’s smug face. The thought wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the action would have been.
“I didn’t think so. Condition two is if there’s even a whiff of you screwing up, drinking, associating with the people you used to associate with, you don’t get another cent from me. I won’t have my animals compromised by your past and your proximity.”
“What, you think some of my old buddies are going to force-feed your cattle booze and pot in the dead of night?”
“I wouldn’t put it past any of you ne’er-do-wells. Not one whiff of you having anything to do with someone with a past even half as sketchy as yours.” Tyler got out of the booth, stood in front of him, and handed out a card. “You think about it. You want to take me up on it, I need to know by tomorrow.” And with that, he waved at Georgia and then walked out of the diner.
Caleb looked down at the card. Parker’s Prized Cattle, Parker Ranch, Blue Valley, Montana.
In a fit of irritation, Caleb crushed the card in his palm, but then he shoved it in his pocket, because he wasn’t stupid.
Irritated, itchy for a drink, and with a headache brewing, he left Georgia’s. He wouldn’t go home and drink. He’d go home and beat out his bad temper on some fence posts.
Well, it’s not as if you’re any good at keeping the fence between our land in good repair. Fucking prick. Caleb hadn’t had an issue with the fence that divided them from Parker land in a year.
Asshole.
“Caleb.”
If it hadn’t been Mel, he would have groaned in frustration. Still, he couldn’t turn to face her—she’d read through his expression too easily. “Thought you went back to the llamas.”
“Dan and I decided we have a little more time. We’re going to come over and talk to Dad for a few. Just fifteen minutes or so. I haven’t been out in a while, and we’re halfway there. I’ll give you a bit of a head start though.”
“Great.” Fan-fucking-tastic. This day just kept getting better and better.
* * *
Delia stared out the window at the bright sun. The snow was melting, and a tiny little spot of muddy grass was appearing. She’d lost track of how long she’d stared at it, willing it to expand.
It was a foolish thing. Even if all the snow melted, it was only March. More snow could come. The temperatures would remain inhospitable for weeks upon weeks. Fucking Montana.
She turned away from the window. She didn’t have time for daydreaming. She needed to plan, to strategize.
There was so much to tackle, she didn’t know where to start: getting Steph out or finding a way to prove to the cops she’d had nothing to do with the drugs?
She looked around the dim room, panic clawing at her chest. It seemed the more she fought it off, stuffed it down, the harder it struggled free when it saw weakness.
Focus on what’s most important.
So. Steph. Because if she could get Steph out, well, whatever happened with the warrant out for her would be moot. Once Steph was out, if Delia had to do some jail time, well…it couldn’t be any worse than some things she’d withstood already.
Everything felt heavy and impossible, and she wanted to curl up in the uncomfortable bed and pretend this wasn’t her life.
But that didn’t get things done. Planning and acting were her only real choices, so what she wanted didn’t matter. There was no room for mistakes this time. Dad was a sadistic son of a bitch, but he was no idiot. At this point, he knew how and why his daughters were disappearing.
He probably had Steph under lock and key. Delia didn’t think she’d ever understand why, or why Mom had accepted it, allowed it. Why…
No use in trying to figure out why. It was this cabin. It reminded her of “home” and all the dark, omnipresent weight that went with it.
She needed sunlight. She couldn’t think in all this dank isolation. She needed noise and sunlight and air. Maybe she could find some little hideaway spot behind the cabin to secret herself into.
She wished futilely for some kind of notebook to write it out. Seeing her thoughts in words would help her know they were real and strong and possible. Instead, she had to make do with a mug of instant coffee warmed pitifully over a little battery-operated camping burner that had been in Caleb’s box o’ goodies.
She shoved her feet into her boots. The cushioned sole had long since worn down, and now it was like walking on nothing but the metal bottom. But they were he
r talisman, the “fuck off” engraved on those boots, an old thrift store find that she’d refused to part with.
Not that she had the means with which to part with anything. Shoes were shoes, and she would prefer these hard shoes with their lovely little message than something comfortable any day.
At least that’s what she told herself.
She was rationing everything, so her coat was already on, since she refused to have a fire going in the afternoons. Besides the few logs she’d managed to pilfer wouldn’t burn for very long. It was still damn cold thanks to the wind that swept down the mountains on its way to the valley, so she pulled the least conspicuous blanket from the pile.
She slipped outside, sticking close to the sides of the cabin. This side of the ranch seemed relatively untraveled, but she couldn’t be too careful—not with Summer lurking who knew where.
I know what it’s like.
Delia pushed away the words. People’s sympathy would make her weak or careless. She’d already cried in front of Caleb and felt warmed by Summer’s words. She didn’t want to know what came next.
She was about to turn the corner of the front of the cabin when a strange sound stopped her. Something like a moan followed by a curse.
She pressed her back to the wood of the cabin and scanned the ranch spread out before her. In the distance, beyond a swell of land, she could see the top of the roof of the main Shaw house. There were fences and a barn in the distance to her right.
She saw no one. Not even Summer’s mysterious residence, wherever that was. Maybe all she’d heard was a cow.
“Worthless piece of shit.”
Last time she checked, cows couldn’t talk. She glanced at the door, then looked around again. She thought over by the main house she could make out the outline of…something. Or someone.
She should slip back inside the cabin and forget it. But there were two problems with that. First, she didn’t know if moving might catch this person’s attention. Second, he sounded like he was in trouble.
Not your problem, girl.
Another sound came, not a curse or a word, just a kind of pained moan and a thump. It was distorted by distance, but the clear mountain air carried sound like nothing else.