More Than a Cowboy (The Carmody Brothers Book 3)

by Sarah Mayberry

  “Feeling is mutual,” she told him.

  “I know. See you tomorrow, Sierra Carmody.”

  She watched wistfully as he made his way out of the hangar. Then she let out a shaky sigh and dropped her head back for a moment, conscious of all the places her body was still hot and ready for him.

  After a minute, she pushed herself upright and palmed her car keys.

  Tomorrow was another day. And then she would have Garret to herself again for two whole nights.

  Delayed gratification. She could live with that.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Garret could hear his mother moving around in the kitchen when he entered the house, and he dumped his bag in the study and went to join her.

  “Hello. I was wondering if you were back already,” she said brightly, pausing in the midst of unpacking groceries.

  “Just got here.”

  “I thought I’d make some grilled chicken with a nice salad for dinner. And how do you feel about an apple pie?” she asked.

  “That all sounds great. What can I do to help?” he asked.

  His mother waved a hand. “Nothing. You’ve been working all day.”

  “I can still help. Why don’t I peel the apples?”

  “Oh, all right. If you’re going to be pushy about it.” His mother gave him a playful smile to let him know she wasn’t serious.

  Garret cocked his head. “You’ve had some good news.”

  Her smile widened. “I have. Your father might be home by the end of the week. I’ve found a physical therapist who can come in daily, and the hospital is happy with his progress. If he keeps on the same trajectory, he’ll be all ours by Friday.”

  Her eyes were suddenly glassy with unshed tears and Garret put down the soup cans he was about to transfer to the pantry and gave her a hug.

  “I’m not upset,” she said as he rubbed her back soothingly.

  “I know. But it’s a big deal. I get it,” he said.

  “I’m just so grateful he’s coming home,” she said as she pulled away. “When I got that call from Jack telling me what had happened, that he’d collapsed . . . I thought we were going to lose him, Garret.”

  “I know.”

  She put her hand on his forearm and gave it a little squeeze. “But we made it. Still a long way to go, but the only way is up from here.”

  She turned to put the milk in the fridge and Garret collected the cans of soup and ferried them to the pantry. His mother was talking as though they’d turned a corner and the worst was over, when in fact this could be the calm before the storm. If Mae’s tip-off was accurate, their lives could be about to implode.

  She’s not your responsibility.

  Sierra’s words circled his mind, but even though he knew she was right, the thought of crapping all over his mother’s good mood soured his stomach. He’d wait for a better moment, when he had more information to share with her.

  He was shutting the pantry door when it occurred to him that there would probably always be an excuse for him not to tell his mother what was going on. With news like this, there was never going to be a good time to come clean.

  If shit gets real with the DA, she needs to be prepared.

  Sierra’s words again, haunting him. Because they were true and real. He needed to man up and do this. Get his mom up to speed so she could prepare herself for a potential nightmare.

  Taking a deep breath, he slid onto one of the stools at the counter. His mother had set out a cutting board for him, along with a peeler and half a dozen apples. He picked up an apple and squeezed it, feeling his hand stretch around the fruit. “Mom. There’s something I need to tell you about the business. I’ve been holding off, waiting to get more information, but you need to know what’s going down.”

  His mother was pulling herbs and spices from the custom drawer in the island counter and she glanced up at him. “Does this have something to do with the fight with Ron?”

  “That’s part of it.” He set down the apple, then realized he missed the weight of it in his hand and picked it up again. “One of the first things I asked for when I started was a report from each department so I could get up to date on operations. Ron intervened to stop me from getting the financials from sales. When I asked why he’d do that, he went ballistic and stormed out. Then he called his secretary and asked her to bring his laptop and a bunch of files down to the parking garage.”

  His mother frowned. “All because you asked to see the financials for the sales department?”

  “Bear with me. When I spoke to the guy in charge of sales, he explained that Ron and Dad had an ‘executive account’ in the sales budget that they administered personally. The story was that it was for promotions and incentives, wining and dining influential account managers, that sort of thing. Nearly half a million dollars.”

  His mother set both hands flat on the counter as though she was steadying herself. “I take it you think this account is a slush fund? Is that what you’re trying to say? You think your father and Ron were paying people off to get business?”

  He’d been expecting more shock from his mother, maybe even a vociferous defense of her husband, but there was a measured calmness behind her words.

  “Pretty much. I don’t know for sure yet who was being paid for what. Ron took any records that existed when he took his laptop and those files. I’ve got a forensic accountant looking into things, trying to work out what money went to whom and why. Hopefully we’ll know more soon.”

  “Why on earth would you do that?” his mother asked, her voice sharp.

  Garret stared at her, wrong-footed. “So I know where the bodies are buried. So I can understand how exposed we are and take steps to put things right.”

  She shook her head, her smooth blond bob swinging around her shoulders. “No, Garret. There’s no need to go kicking up a hornet’s nest when you don’t have to. Ron is gone now, and you’re in charge. That’s the important part. You can clean things up, draw a line under whatever Ron was up to and make sure this never happens again.”

  It took a few seconds for Garret to process his mother’s words and what they meant.

  “You knew already, didn’t you?” he said slowly. Another realization hit him. “That’s why you were so insistent on me taking over Tate instead of leaving Ron to run things.”

  He could still remember how insistent she’d been. At the time, he’d just assumed she was stressed, looking for ways to secure her world. But apparently she’d had another agenda.

  His mother blinked a couple of times. Then she took a deep breath and looked down at the counter, moving a few spice bottles around pointlessly. “I didn’t know. I suspected. Your father has always been a law unto himself. You know that. He and Ron were always strategizing about ways to get ahead.”

  “Okay, so you suspected. And you didn’t give me a heads-up?” Because what the fuck? Why on earth would she send him in blind like that?

  “I didn’t know anything for certain. I didn’t want to prejudice you.”

  “Mom . . .” He swallowed a four-letter word, sliding off the stool so he could take a few steps away to try and keep a grip on his temper. “If I’d known what you suspected going in, I would have done everything differently. Ron wouldn’t have been able to walk with the files. I’d have known what I was up against.”

  His mother did the blinking thing again. Then she licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry. In my defense, I was hoping I was wrong.”

  Garret made himself count to five. There were a lot of things he could say right now, but none of them were kind or constructive.

  “Garret. Please. I was just trying to make the best of a bad situation. But the good thing is that you’re in a position to make sure it never happens again. You can ensure that everything is aboveboard from now on.”

  “It’s not as simple as that, Mom.”

  “I know it probably goes against the grain for you to look the other way in regard to Ron, but isn’t it worth it to just be done w
ith it all and protect your father’s legacy? Talk to Ron, pay him out whatever he wants, and we can put it all behind us.”

  It was his turn to blink. “You want me to hand over a fat payout to the crooked asshole who colluded with Dad to game the system?”

  “If that’s what it takes to make this go away and protect your father’s legacy, then yes. We have to be practical, Garret.”

  “There’s a good chance the DA is investigating Tate Transport for commercial bribery.” He hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly, but his mother had left him with no choice. “The only way for us to get through this is to do everything by the book, and that means pursuing Ron and finding out the extent of the problem, not just covering it up and hoping for the best.”

  His mother’s face was pale with shock as she stared at him. “How do you know we’re being investigated?”

  “A well-connected friend dropped a word in my ear. Apparently the DA is investigating commercial bribery in the transport industry in Montana.”

  “So it might not be Tate Transport,” his mother said, hope flaring in her eyes.

  “Come on, Mom. Tate Transport is one of the biggest players in the state. And we know we’ve got a huge fucking slush fund hidden on the books. What are the odds it’s not about us? You really want to take that risk?”

  She flinched. “There’s no need for that kind of language.”

  “I happen to think there is, but fine. I’m sorry for expressing my sincere outrage at the stinking cesspit Dad has left on our doorstep. My bad.” The words were out Garret’s mouth before he could stop them, laced with fury, underscored with frustration.

  “You’re angry.”

  He laughed, the sound ugly and hard. “Yeah, I am. Just a little bit. You let me walk into this, Mom. And Dad dug this hole for everyone. If this hits the fan, Tate Transport could go under. All the people who rely on us will be out on the street.” He waved a hand around the spacious designer kitchen. “All of this could be gone.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t raise your voice,” his mother said with stiff dignity.

  Garret closed his eyes for a beat, then took a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry. But I have been living with this for over a week now. I didn’t want to dump it on you when you’ve got so much on your hands with Dad, but you need to know what could be coming our way.”

  “I appreciate that. And I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

  He nodded and pushed his hair back off his forehead. “Anyway. That’s where we’re at. The accountant has promised a report by the end of the week, so we’ll know more then.”

  “I see.” His mother crossed to the wine rack next the pantry and pulled out a bottle of wine. She glanced at Garret and he nodded to indicate that yes, please, he would really frickin’ love a glass of wine right now.

  She poured and pushed a glass his way, then took a big gulp from her own. “What exactly is this accountant advising?” she asked when they’d both been fortified with alcohol.

  “We haven’t talked specifics yet. I suspect it depends on what she finds.”

  “And if the DA is investigating Tate Transport?”

  “Then we get great lawyers and start praying.”

  “Couldn’t you do some kind of deal with them? Don’t companies do that all the time? Give them some kind of undertaking, pay a fine, whatever they want to make it go away?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve got an appointment to brief a new lawyer tomorrow. He might have some ideas.”

  “What’s wrong with using David? Your father’s used him for years.”

  “That’s exactly why I can’t use him. I have no idea how deep the rot goes.”

  She took another big gulp of wine.

  “I’m going to speak frankly, Garret.” She held his eye, her jaw set. “Tate Transport is your father’s life’s work. He gave up everything to build that business, to protect and provide for us. And now it’s our turn to protect and provide for him. I want you to promise me you’ll do everything in your power to make this go away. Whatever it takes, even if it might seem unpalatable. The end result is all that matters.”

  Garret glanced down into the dark red wine in his glass, needing a moment to recover from the psychic gut punch his mother had just delivered. After a moment he lifted his head. “Just so we’re on the same page here—you’re asking me break the law if necessary to save Dad’s ass. Have I got that right?”

  His mother’s eyes were flinty as they met his. “I’m asking you to remember that everything you are and everything you have came out of your father’s sacrifices and hard work. And before you read me a lecture on Business Ethics 101, let me remind you that we’re talking about a few kickbacks here. No one was hurt. Yes, your father has his excesses, but he’s not a monster. Far from it. He’s a good man, and we need to protect him, Garret. I need you to help me protect him.”

  Garret’s stomach churned with acid as he absorbed his mother’s words.

  Holy fucking hell.

  For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. What to think.

  And then he did.

  “Good to know where you stand,” he said. “Thanks for the TED Talk.”

  His glass clinked against the marble countertop as he set it down. Then the only sound was the rapid percussion of his shoes on the polished parquet floor as he made his way to the front door.

  Night had fallen while he’d been having all his illusions destroyed over a nice glass of merlot. He walked into the dim coolness, away from the house, away from his mother.

  Away.

  He didn’t stop until he was halfway down the driveway. Then he simply stood there, the sky a dark void overhead, hands hanging by his sides, and tried to deny the sting of angry emotion burning at the back of his eyes.

  All these years, he’d kept his father’s shitty, sordid little secret to protect his mother. For thirteen years it had chafed at him, kept him from home, pushed him to build his life thousands of miles away.

  And it turned out she probably hadn’t needed protecting at all. Turned out she was a deeply practical, pragmatic woman. He laughed, the sound rough in his throat. What had she said? Yes, your father has his excesses.

  She knew about the affairs. Suddenly there wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

  “Jesus motherfucking Christ.”

  He was so stupid. He’d whipped himself for years over covering for his father. He’d put his mother on a pedestal, driven by guilt—and now she wanted him to compromise himself in order to save his father’s ass. God, she hadn’t even hesitated to ask. It had been her default, automatic position. Her first line of defense.

  He shook his head, trying to imagine what she thought he could do against the power of the DA. Was he supposed to bribe someone? Or maybe he was just supposed to do some creative accounting, whatever it took to destroy all traces of his father’s crimes.

  That’s what a good, loyal son would do, no matter the potential cost and risk to himself and his future.

  He let his head fall back. The sky was blue-black above him, the stars distant pinpricks of light. So much emptiness. So much coldness.

  He stood like that for as long as his neck would allow, then he turned and trudged back up to the house. His mother had switched the outside lights on—so thoughtful—and he paused in the shadows, unwilling to go inside just yet.

  Instead, he moved toward the garage, letting himself in via the side door. He grabbed his bike helmet, then strode across to punch the button to lift the roller door. He cranked up the Ducati inside the garage, the roar of the motor ricocheting off the walls. Then he took off, shooting down the driveway, uncaring that he was still in his work shirt and pants.

  Right now, he just wanted to turn his brain off and stop thinking.

  Leaning over the handlebars, he opened the throttle.

  *

  Sierra agonized over whether to tell Jed about running into Mae all through dinner. As her family bickered and laughed around her, she batt
ed the pros and cons back and forth in her mind.

  Pro: she didn’t like keeping things from Jed. Con: he’d just reached a point where it felt like he might be open to getting out there again, and news of Mae might throw him off balance. Pro: maybe hearing about her and her life now would help give him some closure. Con: maybe hearing about her and her life now would send him into retreat.

  In the end, the habit of honesty and the knowledge that Jed would hate to think she was coddling or protecting him in some way won out. She waited until he’d slipped out of the house for his nightly check on the horses to follow him to the barn.

  She found him talking softly to Pedro, promising him a good long run tomorrow. He’d been stuck inside making calls and chasing up parts for their busted tractor all day, so she figured Pedro wasn’t the only one suffering from cabin fever.

  “Let me know if he ever answers back, and we’ll alert the mental health team at the hospital,” she said, resting her forearms on the top of the stall gate.

  “Don’t try to shame a man for communing with his horse,” Jed said.

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is mock, not shame.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “How are things going with the defying-gravity business? You enjoying the job?”

  “I am,” Sierra said. “It’s ridiculous that someone is paying me good money to live my dream.”

  Jed’s smile was warm and she could tell he was genuinely happy for her. “You getting along okay with Garret?”

  The memory of Garret below her on the bed, his eyes smoky with lust, flashed across her mind. “Um, yeah. He’s pretty easygoing. We get on well.” She shrugged and gave thanks for the dim lighting, hoping it hid her blush. At some point she would have to tell her family about what was happening between her and Garret, but not yet.

  She watched as he checked the water trough then stepped back to allow him to exit the stall. He was about to head inside, which meant she was about to lose her chance to have this conversation privately.

  Spit it out, Carmody. Get it over with.

  “So, a weird thing happened last night.” Her voice sounded odd—stilted—and Jed threw her a look.