Tequila High

by Michelle Leighton

  I stare at him for a minute, the seconds ticking slowly by, like time is stuck in a vat of molasses. Finally, I jerk my arms free from him. “You didn’t care about our kids. You got me pregnant on purpose, just to get your hands on this ranch, and then left me when I miscarried. Did you think I could ever forgive you for that?”

  “I thought you were ready. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us.”

  “Poking holes in your condom, tricking me was not best for me, Jason. It was selfish and unforgiveable. I was just a girl. I wasn’t ready to be a mother, much less suffer the loss of a child all by myself. You got me pregnant and then you left me when I needed you.”

  He growls, shaking his head, his face flushing red. “I freaked out, okay? When I saw what I’d done to you, I…I…” Jason runs his hands through his hair. “I’ve regretted that every day of my life. Every day. If I could go back, I’d stay by your side. I swear to God, I would. Give me another chance and I’ll prove it.”

  “There is no second chance for us, Jason. Not ever.”

  “What about the ranch?”

  “Sounds like the men have all the details worked out. They always know what’s best, isn’t that right?” Acrid pain wells in my chest. “What’s this place to me anyway? Just a bunch of bad memories.”

  I turn to walk off before he can see the tears forming in my eyes, before he can see the agony scrunching up my face. But I turn from a past mistake to a present one. Standing back between two trees, staring at me with an unfathomable expression on his face, is Nixon.

  My stomach knots. My heart twists. I feel my throat collapse under the pressure of unshed tears. I pause for one breath, two. And then I do the only thing I can. I run. I spin on my heel and take off at a dead run, sprinting through the woods. I hear shouting. I hear my name. But I don’t stop. I can’t. I need to get away. Away from both of them.

  23

  Nixon

  Jason snarls at me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I snap my head toward him, nothing short of fury on my face. “Get the hell off my land.”

  “This isn’t your land.”

  “Oh, make no mistake. This is absolutely my land.”

  “Your father—”

  “My father can’t make the call to sell this without my approval. Whatever shady, back alley deal you two assholes cut is as worthless as you appear to be. Now, get your ass off this ranch before I make it my mission in life to find a place to bury you in these woods.”

  I can tell he wants to argue and part of me wants him to. I want him to keep going, keep pushing, so I’ll have an excuse to tear him limb from limb with my bare hands. But he doesn’t. I top him by three inches and at least twenty pounds of muscle. Add to that the fact that I’m so close to the edge right now and, yeah, I’m the bigger threat of the two. He seems to pick up on that pretty quickly, too. He balks for a second, but then keeps that mouth of his shut. Without a word, he walks past me, back the way he came, leaving me to go find Haley on my own. Just the way I want it.

  I start off after her. She’s not hard to track. Not because I’m some sort of expert, but because she was upset and she broke a thousand twigs and branches along the way. About ten minutes later, I find myself stepping out of the woods to the west of the main house, though, and I still haven’t found her. I couldn’t move as quickly as Haley because she knew where she was going, so I lost her. At least for the moment I have.

  I walk to the main house and go in through the back door. Harper is sitting in the kitchen painting her fingernails while Hannah spreads something on little triangles of bread. I don’t bother with niceties. “Seen Haley?”

  I see Hannah glance at Harper before she shakes her head. Clearly, they’re lying. Blood is thicker than water, after all.

  “Well, if you happen to not see her again, please let her know I’m looking for her.”

  They both nod, and I head through the house to John’s office. The door is open, and he’s behind the desk with his head down. When I knock on the doorjamb, he looks up and his face takes on that pleasantly relieved expression he wears so often with me. “Nixon. What can I do for you?”

  “Fair warning, Haley knows.”

  He stands up so quickly, his chair whips back against the wall behind him. “How the hell did that happen? I wanted to tell the girls myself.”

  “You should’ve done it sooner. You know how hard it is to keep secrets like this.”

  “I was going to. I just didn’t want to ruin this last bit of time they have together here, where they grew up. I figured a month wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Well, it did. Jason showed up. Told her he’d bought the ranch from my father.”

  “What?”

  I shake my head and wave him off. “Calm down. They can’t do that. It’s not legal.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. I purchased the ranch with my own money rather than under the umbrella of the company. Dad doesn’t know that.”

  “Lucky for me, I guess.” He pauses. “Wait. Jason? You mean her ex?”

  I nod.

  “He told her?”

  I nod again. “She’s pretty upset, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “She left this place, but she loved it more than all of us when she was a girl. If it weren’t for Jason, she probably wouldn’t have left at all.”

  “Are you going to tell her what happened? Because she’s gonna want to know how you lost the ranch.”

  John hangs his head. “I guess it’s time to have a family meeting.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” He looks so defeated, I find myself offering help, help I don’t know how to give and shouldn’t be offering. “Anything I can do?”

  “No.” He looks up after a few seconds and smiles halfheartedly. “You’ve already done enough. I appreciate you, son.”

  I nod and make my exit. Something tells me I’ve gotten far more involved with this family than I should have.

  24

  Haley

  I’ve been hiding away in the basement since I escaped Nixon in the woods. The last place I really want to be is alone in the cold, empty basement, but even this is better than having to deal with Nixon.

  I hear footsteps, but they’re soft and light, assuring me they don’t belong to a man. I’m sitting on the floor, cross-legged, when Hannah comes into view. She spots me and stops. “Dad wants a family meeting after dinner.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  My heart breaks a little more at her words. I know my face pales.

  “Well, I guess this is it.”

  After a long pause during which she stares at me through narrowed eyes, Hannah asks, “You know, don’t you?”

  “Know what?”

  “About the ranch.”

  “What do you know about the ranch?”

  “I overheard Dad talking to Nixon a couple of weeks ago. They were talking about the plans for this place. I think they’re going to turn it into a dude ranch. A dude ranch,” she says, wrinkling up her nose. “Can you believe that?”

  “They’re doing that together?”

  Hannah shrugs. “I guess. I mean, I’m sure they’ll hire people for some parts of it. Dad doesn’t know a thing about dude ranching.” She whispers dude ranch under her breath again and shakes her head.

  “Han, I don’t think Dad’s going to be a dude rancher. I…I think he sold the ranch to Nixon. I think he’s turning it into a dude ranch.”

  Her brow furrows. “Wait what? Why on earth would Dad sell the ranch?”

  “I think he’s in some sort of financial trouble.”

  “Since when?”

  It’s my turn to shrug. “I have no idea. I’ve been gone for ten years, remember?”

  She shifts her weight to one hip, her posture defensive. “So, since I live here, I’m supposed to know every move Dad makes? Is that it?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that if anyone would not know, it
would be me. I’m the not-knowingest person I know.”

  She still looks perplexed. “You’re the what what?” Before I can answer, she waves her hand. “Never mind. But, Haley, this just doesn’t make any sense. Dad loves this place. We all do. It’s where we lived with Mom. We grew up here. He would never sell without telling us.”

  “You sure about that?”

  She stares at me long and hard before her shoulders slump. “No, not a hundred percent.”

  “Has he been acting weird lately or anything?”

  “Not really. Maybe a little quiet. And he’s been holed up in his office a little more, but I assumed that was because he was making arrangements to get all this work done to the house.”

  “Did he say why he wanted the work done?”

  She shakes her head and keeps shaking it slowly back and forth. I can tell by her expression that she’s putting the pieces together now. And that, like me, she’s finding it paints a very convincing picture. “No. I thought it was strange at the time, but…”

  “Something’s definitely up.”

  “How could he do this to us?”

  “I guess we’ll find out all the details tonight, won’t we?”

  She starts to turn away, but then stops herself. “Since you blew through the kitchen earlier with no explanation whatsoever, mind telling me why the hell you’re hiding out in the basement?”

  “Just needed some peace and quiet.”

  “That you couldn’t find in a less dank and spider-infested place? Um, no. I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe I like the dank. Maybe I like spiders.”

  “Since I’ve had to rescue you from anything with more than four legs since we were in elementary school, I don’t believe that for a second. Only criminals and desperate people come down here on purpose. And I assume you haven’t broken any laws.” When I say nothing, she adds, “Have you?”

  “No, Hannah. I haven’t broken any laws. I just needed to get away.”

  “From Nixon?”

  “No. I mean, maybe. Why do you ask?”

  “He came by a while ago looking for you.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Just to tell you he was looking for you.”

  “I bet he was.”

  “Wanna tell me what’s going on with you two?”

  “Nothing. He just—”

  “Don’t even bother lying. I haven’t seen sparks like that between two people since… Well, maybe ever.”

  “When have you even seen us together?”

  “The night he came to the house during dinner, the day you two rode back from the cabin.” She tucks her chin a little and averts her eyes. “And I may or may not have accidentally walked by the cottage one morning when the two of you were in the living room. Looked like you were exercising. And he was…well, he was enjoying the view.”

  “You’re spying on me?”

  “Oh, God no! Never do I ever, ever, ever want to see you doing anything with a guy. Ewww!” She curls her lip and closes her eyes for a second, shuddering. “No, the front door was open, doofus. I just happened to glance in and see you two. Thank God you weren’t doing anything else.”

  My face burns like fire thinking of the things that we have done since that morning.

  Hannah notices it, of course, and quirks a brow. “Oh. What’s this I see?”

  “It’s nothing. A mistake, I assure you. And one I damn sure won’t be making again.”

  “Hmmmm,” she murmurs, sucking her teeth. “Stepped in it this time, did you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I can tell when you’re in deep shit. And you’re in deep shit.”

  “No, I’m not. I simply made a mistake that will soon be rectified. I won’t be here as long as I’d thought I might.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Of course I’m leaving. Dad is selling the ranch and the guy I… made the mistake with has been lying to me. It’s like Jason all over again. So yeah, I’m leaving.”

  She gasps at my reference. Besides Jason and me, she’s the only one who knows all the details about what happened between us. “I don’t get that impression from Nixon. Maybe you should talk to him, give him a chance to explain.”

  “You mean lie some more? No, thank you.”

  Hannah’s sigh speaks volumes. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do now,” I mutter, turning to lean my shoulder against the cold concrete wall.

  Hannah knows me well enough to know when I’m done talking, and I’m done talking. No one will convince me that Nixon had a good reason to lie to me. He’s just proof that I can’t trust a man. Any man. No matter how good he may seem at first glance.

  I don’t go upstairs until I can smell food, which I hope means it’s out of the oven or off the stove and placed on the table. When I peek into the dining room, I see that I’m right. The table is set and covered with food, and everyone but Dad is present and accounted for.

  It’s Harper who speaks first. “So now you’re a basement dweller, huh?”

  “Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” I take the seat beside hers.

  “And why does this girl have to hide in the basement?”

  “Because she’s a gullible dumbass who keeps making the same mistake over and over and over again.”

  She grabs a green bean from one of the bowls and munches it while she stares at me, nodding. “Slept with the wrong guy again, did ya?”

  I exhale, defeated. “I’ve established a pattern.”

  Harper ponders this for a second before commenting. “Well, at least they’re getting hotter as you go. At this rate, you could be hitched to David Beckham in five to ten.”

  “That sounds like a prison sentence.”

  “Which, the ‘five to ten’ or being married to David Beckham?” She snorts.

  “I’d happily marry David Beckham,” Hope chimes in dreamily.

  “You might have to cripple Posh Spice to make that happen. Are you prepared to take the castle by force?” Hannah asks.

  “What castle?” Dad asks, arriving right in the middle of this off-the-wall conversation.

  Harper answers. “Haley’s going to be storming David Beckham’s castle within ten years, Dad. Better learn to like soccer.”

  “Who’s David Beckham?”

  We each look at each other, amazed, before we start laughing. “Never mind.”

  “Food looks great, Hannah.” Dad smiles over at Hannah, patting the top of her hand like a grandmother would do.

  “Thanks.”

  He says the blessing, and we eat in much the same way we did for years. Hope and Harper aren’t aware of what’s going on, so their chatter keeps the tension from rising up to choke Daddy, Hannah, and me.

  When dinner is over, Dad starts into dessert without addressing the issue, but I’m beyond the point of patiently waiting for him to get around to it, so I more or less force his hand.

  “So, Dad, what’s the big family meeting about?”

  He doesn’t even look up at me as he scoops up another bite of pie onto his fork. Rather than eating it, though, he just stares at it.

  “You know, that’s not going to just jump into your mouth, right?” Harper’s snark earns her a tolerant smile from our father.

  “I know, hon. I’m just figuring out how to tell you girls what I have to tell you.”

  “Just spill it. That’s always best,” is her reply.

  He clears his throat and sets his fork down. “Nixon isn’t here as a traditional ranch employee.”

  “Then what’s he doing here?” Hope asks.

  “He’s overseeing the remodeling.”

  “Uh, why? That’s not exactly a full-time job.”

  “No, it’s not just that. He’s been making some adjustments to the pastures and fences and…well, just various things on the property since it’ll soon be used as a dude ranch.”

  A hush falls across the table. It lasts for about twenty seconds,
I’d guess, before the explosion. A chorus of four feminine voices rings out, each at a different pitch and decibel along with a different question or complaint.

  “How could you do this without telling us?”

  “Why the hell would you do something like that?”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  “Where will we go?”

  “Where will you live, Daddy?”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Why the hell would you want to own a dude ranch?”

  He waves his hands, silently encouraging us to calm down. “I’ll explain if you’ll give me five seconds to talk.”

  Everyone hushes, all the Brandt women staring expectantly at him.

  “I don’t involve you girls in the day-to-day operations of this place because I don’t want to burden you. I made a promise to each of you before you were even born that I’d never be the kind of man to drag his children into his worries. A father is supposed to protect his kids and I’ve kept that promise. Until now.”

  “What happened, Daddy?” It’s Hope. Her voice is rippling with her increasing anxiety.

  “I made a poor investment and got myself in a pinch. Made it worse by trying to dig out too fast. Took some money from someone I shouldn’t have.” There’s a collective gasp around the table. I’m sure each of us is thinking about every movie we’ve ever seen where there was a knee-busting loan shark involved. “Before you go getting all excited, I paid it back. Got a second mortgage to cover the whole amount. I’d rather be in debt to the bank than to people like that.”

  “So why are you selling then?”

  “I’m not selling, honey. This place is sold. Past tense. It’s done.”

  “But why? If you got it taken care of…” It’s Hope again, trying desperately to understand.

  Great sadness and deep regret drop down over my father’s expression like a thin, black veil. “Because, sweetheart, I borrowed some more money from them, so I could send you to art school and get you that photography degree you always talked about.”

  “You…you did what?”