by Debra Kayn
If he laid one hand on him, she would call the police station.
She owed Kent that much for doing more than was required of him.
Josh stepped out of the vehicle and aggressively approached Kent. She reached over and picked up the phone receiver. There was another gas station a mile out of Missoula that Josh could use. There was no reason for him to continue coming here.
Kent blocked the pump, making no move to fill Josh's truck with gas. She lowered her arm, stretching the phone cord, and stepped closer to the window. Curious to know what they were talking about, she found comfort in the fact that Kent was at least a half a foot taller than Josh and much broader.
During her marriage, Josh had never physically hurt her. He tended to verbally bash anyone who dared argue with him. She'd put in years of listening to him belittle her.
His attitude wasn't only reserved for her.
She'd noticed how he spoke to waitresses, utility workers, anyone he deemed beneath him, including how he talked to her dad in private. There were signs that were there, warning her, but she'd been in love and blind to Josh's manipulations and abuse.
Maybe she believed he'd change or stop. She couldn't even remember exactly what she'd thought about his ego all those years ago. Of course, now, she wondered what she'd seen in him at the beginning of their relationship. Whatever it was, it was fleeting.
For how much she wanted to leave her past behind, she could only learn from her mistakes and move on.
Josh pushed Kent. She gasped and moved toward the door, afraid a fight would break out.
Kent never budged. His arms stayed loose at his sides.
She hesitated, knowing if she stepped in, Josh would use her being there against Kent.
Whatever words were exchanged between the two men, Josh backed away and got in his truck while Kent never moved an inch. She stayed inside, safe from the altercation. Only when her ex-husband left could she breathe again.
She hung up the phone receiver and walked outside. Kent deserved a warning about how awful Josh could be when he was angry.
Whether Kent was aware of her behind him or not, he never flinched when she spoke his name.
"Do you need something?" he asked, continuing to look down the street.
"I, uh, wanted to let you know the man who was just here often causes a scene." She rubbed her bare arm. "Whatever he says doesn't matter, so it's best to just fill his truck with gas and let him mouth off."
"That's not going to happen." Kent turned around. "Who is he?"
"H-his name is Josh Hill," she said.
"I already know his name. Who is he to you?"
She looked behind her, wanting to leave the conversation. "Nobody."
"Then, he can buy his gas and beer somewhere else." He turned around and faced her. "If not, I can guarantee you, I'll lay him out if your name comes out of his mouth again."
Shocked, she gawked at him. It wasn't the surprise of knowing Josh talked about her because he'd badmouthed her to the whole town over the years. What startled her was the rage boiling in Kent's gaze. She'd never seen that in him before.
That temper looking back at her scared her.
Yet her chest warmed at the confidence coming from him. He wasn't afraid of Josh. He wasn't bragging. He'd taken a stand to put an end to Josh talking to her, and besides her dad trying, nobody had ever gone up against Josh to help her before.
Her pulse roared. She broke away from his gaze and went inside, leaving him alone with his choices.
She never asked for his help. Kent would eventually believe all the lies spread around Missoula about her when the stories never stopped. He could do what he wanted when it came to Josh.
She didn't want him standing up for her.
Josh could go to hell for all she cared.
Anger consumed her. Humiliation broke her. She marched through the store, out the back door and straight home. Out of breath, she planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. Fury swirled throughout her, making her shake.
She hated Josh with every fiber inside her. He'd ruined her life.
It wasn't fair that someone, not even from around here, was influenced by Josh's lies about her. Why couldn't she have one person who knew nothing about her or her past?
Gritting her teeth, she opened her eyes and strode forward into the house to check on her dad and compose herself before she had to face the customers or Kent again.
Not wanting to wake her dad in case he slept, she quietly walked into his bedroom. Her gaze went to the bed and, at the sight of her dad, all the fight left her.
After a rough night with little rest, her dad sat propped up with three pillows behind his back, softly snoring through his open mouth. She dashed away the tears that came.
All her life, her dad had been her hero. Strong, hardworking, and despite losing his wife and son, he'd found the strength to raise her alone. He'd made her into a strong, independent woman. Sure, she'd lost herself during the years she was married to Josh, but that was her fault.
"Are you going to stare at me or tell me why you're away from the cash register?" murmured her dad.
She shook her head, focused on his face, and found him looking at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you."
He grumbled under his breath. "I need to get up."
"No, don't." She rounded the bed and kissed his head at his receding hairline. "Take a nap. I'm going back to work. Do you need anything first? Water? Something to eat? I made you a sandwich and put it in the fridge this morning. I can get—"
"I don't need anything." He patted her hip. "Do me a favor, though. Have Kent stop at the house before he heads back to the river."
She nodded and said, "The river?"
"He's camping down at Shoshone Canyon."
She straightened. News of where he was staying surprised her. She'd assumed he rented a house in Missoula since he recently moved here.
"I'll tell him." She walked to the bedroom door. "Are you sure you don't want a glass of water?"
"I'm good, Callie," he whispered, snuffing his cough.
She left him alone in hopes that having nobody around to talk to would stop the attack from getting worse. The simplest congestion took all his energy. He was getting weaker, and only rest would help him recover.
Whether he knew it or not, she was going to have to insist that he sign over power of attorney to her. If her dad wasn't able to take care of himself, she'd make sure he received medical attention.
Chapter 6
Kent
KENT STAYED IN THE narrow hallway after being summoned to the trailer house. He suspected Ed called him over to the house to ask him to take over the old man's job at the gas station. While Callie handled the majority of the business, there were small things like stocking shelves, meeting the delivery truck, and being a male presence around the place that needed to be done.
It wouldn't hurt him to pick up the slack. He preferred to stay busy, and there were times during the day when he could go fifteen to twenty minutes without any customers pulling up to the pump.
Callie peeked out of the bedroom and waved him in, stepping out of his way and then leaving him alone with her dad. He walked into the room, surprised to find Ed sitting on the edge of the bed. They must've woken him up. The gray hair at the back of the man's head was flattened against his scalp, and instead of the buttoned shirt and suspenders he usually wore, he had on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
He moved in front of Ed. "Feeling better?"
"Close the door, son," said Ed.
The weakness in the man's voice made the sentiment honest. He shut them in the room and returned to the bed, pulling up a straight-backed chair.
Letting Ed tell him why he was asked over in his own time, Kent remained quiet.
"I'm dying." Ed's whiskered jaw hardened.
That slight change in his tired expression was the only sign the man held tightly to the waning strength inside of him. Ken leaned forward
and braced his elbows on his knees, giving Callie's dad his full attention.
The meeting had nothing to do with his job.
"Callie doesn't know yet." Ed's gaze burned into Kent's. "I want to get things straight in my head before I burden her with the truth."
Ed struggled for breath. The short sentences had stolen all the air out of his lungs.
"I don't believe a man should carry any debt. I've worked hard my entire life and never let myself be under the control of another person." He huffed. "Until now."
Kent cupped his jaw and rubbed the tightness from his face. He had no idea what to say, though he had a feeling Ed only wanted him to listen.
Ed braced himself on the mattress and stretched his arm out and opened the drawer of his nightstand. Kent studied the slow movements, surprised that it was the same man who hired him. The change in the last few weeks was shocking, even though he'd seen Ed almost daily.
He wondered if Callie could see that her dad was dying. She deserved to know and spend the last days with him.
Ed held out a stack of money. More money than Kent had ever seen at one time.
"I want to buy six months of your life." Ed's hand shook. "Callie is going to need someone watching out for her after I'm gone. I have all the faith that my girl will have no problems running the business side of her life, but she's going to grieve..." Ed coughed. "She deserves to have time to accept I'm gone and pick herself up. Lord knows, I almost lost it all after my wife and son died. If it hadn't been for having Callie at home, just a little girl, who needed to be cared for and loved, I would've walked up the mountain and ended my life, so I could be with my wife. But my little girl needed me more."
Kent swallowed. He wasn't good at listening to someone else's life or know what was expected of him.
"I want my daughter to have someone watching her back. You take this money. It's six months' worth of wages, and Callie doesn't need to know about it, so you'll still get paid by her. That should give you a little cushion in your life and allow you to get into a place that'll put a roof over your head."
Kent sat back in the chair. "I don't want your money. I'll work for six months afterward. You have my word."
"It's not good enough." He tossed the stack of cash at Kent. "Not when it comes to my daughter."
He caught the chunk of money before it bounced off his knee to the floor. "I don't—"
"Humor me, son. I'll feel better doing it this way. I'm not going to meet my maker, taking advantage of you."
Ed's lips held a purplish tint to them. Kent gritted his teeth. Good men died every day.
While he respected Ed, he barely knew him. Until today, Ed had been a man who handed over Kent's paycheck.
"Why me?" he asked. "To be honest with you, I'm not the best man to help myself, much less your daughter."
Ed hacked into his hand, his skin turned a darker mottled red as he struggled to inhale. Several minutes passed. Kent waited; the sense of urgency settled on him. Ed was, in fact, dying.
"You've had a little run-in with Josh Hill." Ed's chest quivered as he fought his lungs from seizing. "Without me around, Josh will hurt Callie. I'd stake my life on it, for how little time I have left."
"What's his problem with her?"
"That's Callie's story to share. My daughter...well, she can take care of herself when she realizes life is worth fighting for. That's the way I raised her. Until then, make sure nothing happens to my girl, son." Ed cleared his throat. "Now, I think I need my inhaler, and then you can tell my daughter to come in here."
He stood and shoved the wad of cash under his belt and let the ends of his flannel shirt hang over his pay. After he found Callie in the kitchen and hitched his thumb over his shoulder—he couldn't remember what he'd told her—he took his leave.
Ed would never know if he held up to his part in the agreement. Hell, he wasn't sure what he'd promised or what was involved.
All he knew was Ed would die, and Callie would lose her dad. When that happened, the bottom of her world was going to open up and swallow her.
Chapter 7
Kent
CURLEY PULLED UP TO the pump on his motorcycle. Kent lifted his chin and waited for the biker to cut the engine. He hadn't parked close enough to get gas.
"How's everything going?" asked Kent
Curley toed his kickstand and took off his helmet. "There's talk going around that Hill gathered a group of guys together, and they plan to pay you a visit tonight. They got wind that you're staying down at Shoshone Canyon at the river. I wanted to give you a heads up."
"Free land, man." He shrugged and lifted the front of his shirt, showing a forty-caliber pistol. "I'm a light sleeper."
Curley's gaze lightened in amusement. "Well, damn. I thought you might need help and hoped to get an invite to your camp."
"Stop by and have a beer." He looked out at the street. "But, I doubt if Hill will show his face if someone is around. He talks big, but always backs away."
Curley wiped his forearm across his jaw. "I might do that. Though, I was hoping to have a chance at Hill. The asshole has got away with too much in this town and needs to be taught a lesson."
Knowing he wasn't talking about Hill harassing Callie or pushing his attitude onto him at the gas station, he asked, "What's your problem with him?"
"Lately? After I shot out all four of his tires, Hill and a group of his friends set fire to the Tarkio cabin out at Shoshone Canyon, about a half-mile from where you're camping."
"You're sure he's responsible?"
"A couple of members rode up on them as they were leaving." Curley turned his upper body as a car pulled in at the pump on the other side. "Go ahead and work. I'm going to take off. I'll see you tonight if you're around and we'll talk more."
"Sounds good." He stepped over and lowered his head near the driver's window. "What can I get you?"
"Five dollars." The woman thrust her hand out the window, dangling cash at him.
"I'll get right to it." He pocketed the money, inserted the nozzle into the tank, and while the gas pumped, he washed her front and rear windshields.
The customer left. Kent dumped the bucket of dirty cleaner and refilled the solution with new. He was curious about what Curley had to say.
Josh Hill seemed to be a problem for many people. While he had no personal beef with him, he could understand why Callie disliked him because of his attitude toward her and why Tarkio Motorcycle Club would want to get revenge for Hill vandalizing their property.
"Kent?" shouted Callie.
He turned around and found her outside the front door. "Yeah?"
"Can you watch the store for a few minutes?" She pulled at the neck of her shirt.
"Give me two minutes and I can." He studied her. "Something wrong?"
"Dad's not answering the phone when I called to check on him." She held her hands out to her sides. "I just want to make sure he's okay."
"Go on. I'll cover the store." He watched her run back inside.
Far as he knew, Ed hadn't told his daughter that he was at the end of his life. The few times he'd covered for Callie the last several days, she stressed about how much she wanted her dad to go back to the doctor. She continued to fight against the health conditions, not the life sentence.
His admiration grew, watching her take care of her dad. Callie was a strong woman, staying silent while scared of losing her father. Far as he could see, she handled everything by herself.
She had no one, not even the citizens of Missoula stepped forward to help. Instead, they tried to beat her down on a daily basis.
He'd heard all the talk circling around her. Women believed Callie spread her legs for any dick walking around town. Men flirted and even threatened when she ignored them.
Through all the harassment, she held her tongue. At first, he thought maybe she couldn't hear the whispers and sometimes outright blurting from the customers. But he soon realized, she listened and noticed the gawking looks aimed at her. She felt the stin
g of their treatment toward her.
He hadn't figured out if she hid her reaction from everyone or had realized long ago that lending energy to what other people thought of her wasn't worth her time. Probably a little of both.
Once the customer drove away, he retrieved the broom and swept in front of the door. Aware that it was near time to check-in and change the gas prices for the day, he went inside and waited the five minutes until the recording would be available. Then, he found the phone number written on the tacked paper behind the counter and dialed.
$1.12
He found the number two hanger underneath the shelf in the box and went outside and switched it out with the number one. Customers weren't going to like the gas hike. It seemed like lately, it cost more to drive around.
The cost of gas was one reason why he preferred to ride the Harley. Though once winter arrived, he'd be limited on where he could go. Most cities he'd stayed in kept the roads clear enough he could make it from one point to another, but there'd be no leaving the area on his motorcycle until spring.
Someday, when he wanted to settle down, he'd buy a truck and trailer. That way, nothing could stop him from moving around. He could tie down his motorcycle and leave for warmer areas.
The back door opened. "Kent!"
The hair on his arms stood at the fear in Callie's voice. He rushed into the storage room and found her pale and shaking, tears rolling down her face.
She looked at him with the most desperate gaze. "I-I can't wake Dad up."
His chest tightened. "I'll call an ambulance and lock up."
She hovered in the doorway, not knowing whether to help him or go back to her dad. He let her make her own choice and heard the back door close when he picked up the phone. Not knowing the address of the house, he gave the location of the gas station and directed help to go behind the building to the trailer.
Locking the front door, he shut off the lights and jogged out the back. Not bothering to knock, he rushed inside the mobile home and found Callie beside her dad on the bed, pleading with him to wake up.
