King's Ransom (Oil Kings Book 2)
Page 9
I was two seconds from saying fuck the fake fiancée gig. It had been different when I could walk away whenever my conscience decided I was a good girl. No harm, no foul. Beckett would never know that he’d had someone like me working for him. But I hadn’t signed on to fool a sick dad. If I hadn’t met Gentry King, I might have felt differently, but I had. He was a real person, not a face on a website.
“I…” How could I leave Adam for a week? He’d be a skeleton sunk into the couch with a controller in his bony hands by the time I got home. And Kitty? Could she mouse and keep her strength up?
Maybe I could call Adam every day. If I picked up groceries before I went and stocked the kitchen with ready-to-eat meals, even stacked some snacks and water bottles right next to him, he should be all right. I could leave Kitty extra food and maybe, just maybe, Adam would be willing to set a can out on the doorstep after a few days.
But the real question was, Did I want to go?
Yes. Except for being there for Beckett, my reasons were several and selfish. To fly on a plane again. To go to freaking Montana and hang out on a real cattle ranch—not just any ranch, but the Kings’. To see a little bit of the world other than downtown Denver.
And if I was going to do this, really do this, to find out as much as I could in the place Beckett had spent most of his life. Nothing was buried in this tomb of his house, not even his secrets.
“I’m sorry.” Beckett started to turn away, his expression dejected. “You can’t just leave town for a week.”
“No!” I hadn’t meant to shout, but he stopped. “My brother lives with me and he’s not the best with self-care. I just need to get some groceries and talk with him before I leave. And pack.”
Beckett stepped closer and stroked a thumb down my cheek. “I’ll have Rick take you to the store and home to grab your things. Then he can take you to the airport. The jet should be ready by then.”
Chapter 10
Beckett
Dad collapsed.
I glowered out the window at the spots of bright lights on the countryside as the plane circled for a landing. Oil wells. All from King Oil. The doctor hasn’t come out yet, but I think it’s his heart. He’s been complaining about indigestion since he arrived, but he kept blaming the tacos or some shit. He listens to Kendall about everything, but even she couldn’t get him to go to the doctor.
I’d just seen Dad and he didn’t complain about anything. He wouldn’t. But I’d seen the stress weighing on him. I should’ve—
I rubbed my eyes and exhaled a slow breath. He was still around, and Eva and I were flying to Montana. There was nothing more I could do.
Before the call…the way she’d kissed… Our attraction was off the charts. A strong love/hate relationship was warring inside of me. Without the trust, I wouldn’t have Eva in my life. But because of it, I had to rush a pretend engagement and wouldn’t have the chance to date her for real. We wouldn’t be able to take things slow.
Eva was curled in the chair diagonal from me, watching our descent with a blanket over her lap. I hadn’t sat beside her. Too many thoughts running through my mind. But I couldn’t be far from her either. Leaving her behind to work hadn’t been an option. I don’t know why. But bringing her home was going to kick this plan into high gear.
Other than a few high school girls that I’d dated, I hadn’t brought anyone home. After the first girl I’d been serious about—the daughter of the local newspaper’s editor in chief—had wanted to know the gory details of finding my mother, I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone else’s motivations.
What did Eva know about Mama’s death? The paper had left out specifics and I hadn’t shared them with anyone other than my brothers. I hadn’t even told Dad, but he probably knew, had likely been informed by the officers when he’d been interrogated.
Dad getting interrogated had been as scary to us kids as Mama’s death. Most murders were committed by the people closest to the victim…unless some relapsed druggie was let out of jail early and hit his meth stash hard. Then it was completely, heartbreakingly random. Except for my neighbors’ role in the ordeal. I’d never forgive them.
I should’ve tried harder to find someone to marry. I couldn’t let the Cartwrights get a dime.
And now that I had Eva, I might even be able to return home without sleeping in the barn. Would the nightmares that had plagued me before I’d moved away come back?
She was the spring-fed pond this country boy needed. I liked her. A lot. She intrigued me more than anyone because I could have a real conversation with her. She didn’t play coy, she didn’t flirt, and she wasn’t shy about expressing her opinion, whether it was written across her delicate features or coming out of those lush lips.
It felt right, coming home with her.
The reason I was on this plane came rushing back. What if they couldn’t find out what was wrong with Dad? What if they did and Dad ignored their medical advice and kept up his high-stress lifestyle? Kendall had chided him more than once to slow down.
What if he passed away and my brothers and I scattered to the four winds? I wouldn’t have a reason to visit. Dawson and I were close enough, but we could catch up on the phone just fine. That way, I wouldn’t have to revisit the past when I walked through the house. With Xander, it was always a game of Where in the World Is Xander. And Aiden… He was hard to talk to. He never used to be, but I didn’t see that changing in the future, especially if he had to take on more responsibility at the company.
The flight attendant came through to prepare us for landing. Eva smiled and chatted about the quick flight, how long the attendant had worked, and what the most exotic place she had flown was. All it took was a question or two and the flight attendant, Shirley, was spilling her guts about her entire career, even diving into her family. Must be that bartender effect. Eva’s first impression was tough and abrasive, especially now that she was back in her Toms and blue jeans and that fitted hoodie. But she was genuinely interested in who she was talking to and the world around her.
When was the last time I’d struck up a conversation with Shirley? She was newer, but I’d gotten to the point where I ignored the staff around me. I didn’t want to encourage more interaction in case I had to fire them one day, or in case it was a young woman and she thought I was interested in dating. It was why I hadn’t replaced Wilma. Initially, setting those professional limits had made me feel like an asshole. Except with Eva, who I’d hired with the intention of marrying.
Eva was the exception to more than a few rules.
The plane bumped down and we taxied in. King’s Creek airport was as tiny as a small-town gas station. Three hangers dotted the property and were more for agriculture planes and little two- or four-seater Cessnas. But it handled the family jet—Dad donated enough to make sure of it—and it was close to home. Dawson sent a message saying he’d left a vehicle here for me and the night clerk would have the key.
The luggage was waiting at the bottom for us. With no driver and a limited flight crew, I took both my black suitcase and Eva’s purple one. She had a worn backpack slung over one shoulder.
She shivered in the brisk wind and folded her arms across herself, but she seemed captivated by the surroundings. “It’s so bare here.”
In so many ways. “Welcome to Montana.”
Vegetation in eastern Montana wasn’t lush and we needed a lot of land to graze cattle. King’s Creek was in the middle of nowhere. Billings was the closest large town, and that was hours away. No buildings marred the countryside, and the dull glow of King’s Creek’s city limits didn’t light up more than a minuscule slice of the sky. Smaller pinpricks of light came off the oil wells that had funded my trust. Old-timers in the area bitched that they ruined the horizon, but they’d all signed the papers when the oil company had come calling. Having a well on the property meant a lot less stress when cattle prices dropped. Dad and Aiden were the most gossiped about villains, but also the local heroes.
An older man w
ith shaggy blond hair rushed out. “Beckett King, as I live and breathe.” He jingled a set of keys. “Dawson left these for ya.”
“Thanks, Herman.” I accepted them and my eyes narrowed. I knew this keychain with its metal horseshoe stamped on a teardrop-shaped flap of leather. Fuck you, Dawson.
“Heard about your dad,” Herman said. “Let him know we’re all pulling for him.”
“Will do.” I had to get away. Herman had said similar words at Mama’s funeral. Sorry about your mom. We’re all pulling for you kids.
I ushered Eva to an obnoxious charcoal-gray pickup littered with flame decals. It was equipped with a lift kit—all the better to go muddin’ with—and Eva would probably need a ladder to get inside.
Stopping in front of it, Eva glanced at me and blinked.
“I’m ashamed to say this was my high school pickup,” I admitted.
She sputtered a laugh and walked around it. “Oh, my gosh. This is like the teenage boy version of peacocking, isn’t it?”
“At its finest. Wait until you hear the pipes on it.” Good thing it was dark, or I might get caught blushing. “They rattle the windows when I pull up.”
Her smile got wider, then slowly faded. “Are you going to the hospital first?”
“I’ll get you settled before I head there. It’s late.” I winced. “Or early, actually. The sun will be coming up soon.” It would’ve already if it were still summer.
“Whatever works for you.” She squeezed my arm and went to the passenger side.
I rushed to open the door and she crawled in without a problem. The delight in her eyes was enough to make me grateful that Dawson had spared this gaudy beast from the sales lot.
After I threw the luggage in, I hopped in and fired up the engine. Eva chuckled at the noise rumbling out of the tailpipes. I was transported back ten years to late country nights heading to a bonfire, only instead of roaring out of town, I was coming home.
“This is so not like the Beckett King portrayed on the gossip sites,” she said.
Ordinarily that comment would make me bristle, but her light tone took the sting out. I’d worked hard for my fairly spotless reputation in the press. “Beckett King hasn’t been like this in many years.”
“Can you picture Rick driving this?”
A laugh burst out of me as I pulled out of the lot. “He’d be thrilled.”
I pointed out landmarks as I drove to keep the silence from locking me into my own head with thoughts of Dad. “All those oil wells are ours.” I gestured from the lit wells toward the glow of King’s Creek. “The town is named after my dad’s side of the family. Kings have ranched here for generations.” But it was Mama’s oil legacy that fueled the town. “We won’t be going through town. Our house is about fifteen miles away.”
“Can you see the mountains when the sun comes up?” She sounded so wistful, I hated disappointing her.
“No, we’re too far east. Our land is in the Yellowstone River Valley. Flat, but just as beautiful in its own way.”
As I left the main highway and hit gravel, she settled in her seat and watched the scenery fly by. The horizon was lightening enough that the trees in the river bottom were a dark contrast against the pastures and fields lining the river.
My childhood home came into view long before we wound our way there on the gravel road. The wraparound porch lights were on, making the house a beacon in the dark. Dawson usually kept them off, but with my arrival, he’d left inside and outside lights on.
I pulled right up to the door instead of circling around back to the big garage. Dad and Mama hadn’t held back when they built this place. It was bigger in square footage than my home in Denver, but all on two levels, with a cellar underneath because Mama had liked to preserve food from her bountiful gardens. None of us had kept her plants going, instead suffering through what the cooks Dad hired had made and raiding the packaged food when Dad started sleeping with the staff and they quit in a huff when he moved on to greener pastures.
Killing the noisy engine, I hopped out to grab our bags. Eva’s feet hit the dirt and as I rounded the corner, a shadow was at the door.
“Beckett? That you?” Dawson called.
“Who the hell else would it be driving this piece of crap?”
His laughter echoed through the early morning hours as he opened the door.
Eva stuck close to me as we approached the house. Dawson was in his usual cowboy boots, jeans, and solid-colored, button-up, long-sleeved shirt. He wasn’t wearing the beater of a straw cowboy hat he preferred, but only because he hadn’t yet left the house for the day. His dark brown hair swept over his brow, longer than I preferred to keep mine.
“Up early or late?” I asked as we climbed the four stairs to the porch.
“Early. Aiden is at the hospital. I came home to grab a few winks and check on things. I’ll head down later today.” Dawson’s gaze landed on Eva, appreciation written across his features along with more than a little surprise. “Hello.”
She smiled, but her attention skipped over Dawson to gape at the rest of the house and the surrounding property that was slowly getting highlighted by the dawn.
“Dawson, this is Eva Chase. She’s my assistant.” Saying the next words were surreal. “And my fake fiancée, but to Dad she’s the real deal, so play along.”
Eva stiffened. I wrapped my arm around her slim shoulders and steered her past a stunned Dawson and into the house.
He whistled, closing the door behind us. “And you’re okay with it?” He gave her another once-over, as if it suddenly made sense that she wasn’t my type and I was still marrying her.
“He pays better than bartending,” she said and hitched her backpack higher.
My jaw tightened with her honesty, but…it was true. “Grams keeps trying to intervene, so she agreed to help me and deter any future women Grams tries to send my way.”
Dawson blinked, then grinned. “She’s been doing that with me too. Suddenly thinks I need extra housekeeping and office help. I don’t even let them through the door. But I can’t imagine it getting bad enough to sling a deal. I’ve been dying to see how she gets to Xander.”
That was probably why Xander never stayed in one place too long. I clapped Dawson’s shoulder. “You have a couple years yet. Just wait. You might even be willing to marry Bristol Cartwright herself to keep her from getting all of it.”
The humor drained from Dawson’s face. “I’ll never be that hard up.”
Eva was looking back and forth between us.
“The neighbor girl and Dawson’s sworn enemy,” I explained. “Though she was a little sweet on him through school.”
Dawson’s lips flattened. “There’s nothing sweet about Bristol. She’s as prickly as a pear cactus and as impulsive as her deadbeat parents. And she ain’t getting my money.” He tipped his head toward Eva. “And I’m glad she’s not getting yours.”
“Just remember—Dad needs to think it’s real.”
Dawson shook his head. “You think he really cares as long as the Cartwrights keep their hands off our green and their cows out of our pastures?”
“Aiden.”
Dawson winced. “Yeah, I’ve never seen Dad disappointed like that. Not even when I buried the tractor halfway in the mud cutting silage. And the way he went cold turkey with sex? Like the ghosts of hookups past couldn’t make him a changed man until his behavior had warped Aiden.”
“He doesn’t need the stress. Especially now of all times.”
“True enough. Does Grams know?”
“Not yet. I should’ve called right after she appeared, but I wanted to let her stew awhile.” Dad would’ve been suspicious if Grams had suddenly turned sweet as honey pie. “I have to figure out a way to spin it to Dad since I just saw him and now I’m engaged. It’ll be more believable if Grams is just as stunned.”
“They don’t know when we met,” Eva offered. “All they know is that you were turning assistants away. You can say that we’d been dating and
then I…was laid off or something.”
“That would work. That would so work.” I was private about my private life. Dad might actually buy it.
“All right, that’s settled.” Dawson whistled low. “Glad it’s you and not me, bro. I’m guessing that you two aren’t in the sharing-a-room stage of this plan? Aiden’s here, so he’s using his old room, and my old room is full of storage. Do you want Eva to take Xander’s room? Who knows when the hell he’ll show.”
I wasn’t going to use the excuse that there wasn’t enough space in order to make Eva share a room with me. That didn’t mean I felt right tossing her in a strange room that belonged to another man, even if that man was my younger brother. I wanted her to be comfortable here—in my home.
But the only other place was a spare bedroom in the housekeeping wing. Back in the day, Mama had insisted on having it in case any visitors got snowed in. That was her excuse anyway, because she invited anyone and everyone out. I think it was for the company. Four boys under five this far out of town, she brought the company to her. But the room was across the house in a lonely corner and no longer had a bed. Dawson had turned it into a game room with a pool table he never used.
Besides, Xander’s room was right next to mine so it sounded like the best option. “If you think Xander’s not showing up anytime soon.”
Dawson snorted. “God only knows where he is. I had to leave a message and a text and a hundred missed calls. Idiot should tell us where he’s going, especially if it’s somewhere without cell service.”
“Is he done backpacking through Europe?”
“Yep. He’s somewhere in Asia.”
Dawson had become our unofficial hub. He and I got along the best, and Xander and Aiden got along better with each other than anyone else, but since Dawson was the owner of the house we’d grown up in, he was the one we naturally checked in with—if we checked in.
“Go on and do chores. I’ll get Eva settled and get to the hospital.”
“You might as well get some rest,” Dawson said. “They’re running more tests this morning and the nurse said doctors will be in and out. Kendall is prepared to deal with all that—I doubt she’s prepared to deal with Aiden hovering, but he seems to like our new stepmom and will probably take it easy for once since she hasn’t left Dad’s side.”