Whether the old Aiden ever came back was a mystery.
Eva emerged, her gaze flaring, then sweeping over me.
Struck by self-consciousness, I stood for her perusal, cursing myself for changing clothes. After my talk with Eva, a weight had lifted. The drive to set high expectations for myself had lowered to a more comfortable level. It just seemed weird to wear a suit to the hospital I’d been born in. Plus, I had to help Dawson afterward. It was just efficient.
“Whoa” was all she said.
“Is it that different?” I adjusted the jeans hanging off my waist. Good old Wranglers. A pair from when I’d come home for Aiden’s wedding and they’d tried to recruit me as a ranch hand. Dawson was shameless in getting us all back on a horse. He kept clothing in all our sizes on hand.
“Different, yes. But not bad different.” Her gaze trailed over my long-sleeved, striped snap shirt, down to jeans that had never seen an iron, and stopped at my worn boots. The shirt and pants were new, but my brown square-toed boots were the last pair I’d bought since high school. I might’ve filled out after graduation, but the boots still fit.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say this was the real me, but that wasn’t exactly true anymore. The Beckett King I’d created after leaving Montana was also me. I loved my job, but I couldn’t deny that I’d missed being home. The longer I was away, the easier it was to forget how I’d found Mama—and then months later, how I’d found Dad walking out of his bedroom with our nanny.
Despicable. He could’ve waited for at least a year, or hell, gotten a hotel room. Everyone dealt with grief differently, but he’d waltzed women in and out of the house. When the maid Mama had been close friends with had walked out of his bedroom one morning, I’d decided to move out the day after graduation. That seemed so long ago now.
Eva leaned back and crossed her arms. I don’t know why being out of my business suit was such a big change. She was a mix of office and off-duty Eva and still looked as sexy as always. Both styles were just her. On the job, she was proficient and direct. Outside of work, she was cautious, yet blunt.
“I can see it.” She wiggled her finger toward me. “Cowboy Beckett. I can picture you doing whatever you do on a ranch now.”
I swaggered closer to her. Her pupils dilated and I knew exactly how she felt. I leaned down close and she tilted her head to the side. “You haven’t even seen me in my hat, darlin’,” I drawled.
A subtle shiver coursed through her. “I never thought ‘aw, shucks’ would be my type.”
“It’s not. ‘Aw, shucks’ is the innocent country boy. I’m not innocent.” I grinned and folded her hand into mine. “Do you have what you need for the office?”
She patted the black tote slung over her shoulder. “King Tech stationery and an extra notebook, pens, and the tablet. And of course, my work phone.”
We started downstairs. “How’s your brother?”
She paused for a moment. “Okay, I guess. I only have his word, but as long as he keeps answering the phone, I’ll try not to worry.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on with him?”
She shrugged as we hit the landing. “He’s had a rough go. Our parents died when I was in middle school. He was in college and he moved back home to raise me.”
“But he kept going to school?” Respect for her brother built. If we’d lost Dad, none of us would’ve been old enough to take care of each other, but as the oldest, Aiden would’ve dropped everything to try.
“For a time. He had to quit to raise me but he had a promising career. Then he…ran into some bad luck. A major career move didn’t pan out, and he just hasn’t bounced back.” The melancholy in her voice tugged at my heartstrings. I didn’t normally get invested in my dates’ families, but with Eva I wanted to know more. If her brother got well, she’d worry less.
We went downstairs and I led her toward the office. I gestured toward the kitchen as we passed. “Help yourself to anything. Disclaimer: I have no idea what Dawson eats, or what’s growing in the fridge, but if you find something good and edible, go for it. He’s an awesome cook, but it’s like he can barely run a microwave when he has no one to make food for. I can bring some food home.”
“I can always beg a ride and pick up my own stash.”
What did she like to eat? She said she wasn’t picky, but what did she enjoy? There were no food restrictions, no requests for dressing or butter on the side, and no sending food back to the kitchen. I wasn’t even that chill when ordering. To Eva, it was normal, but to me, she was like taking a unicorn out to eat.
I skipped the biggest office that Dad had used whenever he worked from home—at least until all of us had been born. After that, he’d insisted it was too loud at home to risk a business call. Dawson had taken it over and it looked like a paper recycling dumpster threw up in there. Mama had done the books for the ranch in her own space. The other office.
The door was half open. I led Eva inside, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. I hadn’t done much more than walk past here when I still lived at home. The last time I’d been back, I hadn’t come near this wing.
Mama’s decorations were still in place. The rest of the house was high-end, rustic Western, but there was an undeniable Mama flair in here. The pictures were still of the land, but close-ups of various flowers that she had grown. Roses. Lilacs. Cone flowers. The paint was a softer cream tone and any extra touches like vases, candles, or lamps had deep pinks and purples coursing through them.
“This is nice.” Eva strode in and spun around. A few boxes lined the walls, labeled with the last few years. Tax documents Dawson had shoved out of his way. One wall had spare computer parts. I had advised him to save a few things, but he’d held on to it all. I’d have to go through that mess before I left and wipe hard drives, find new homes for some of the screens, and recycle the rest. It’d be easier to haul it to Denver with me than find a way to do it all in King’s Creek.
Eva crossed to the walls and inspected the art. “Was your mom the photographer?”
“How’d you guess?” No one had asked before. They assumed we bought everything because we had more money than most, but Mama had run the ranch and often worked it, teaching us more each day. Hired help came and went, but all of us knew the inner workings of this place and what went into it. Dad spent the weekends he wasn’t traveling working cattle and stacking hay. He still did, actually. For all his faults, he was around to help Dawson.
“The bathroom photos were of this place. And these,” she peered closer at the roses, “these have heart. Like these flowers aren’t just pretty, but effort went into them and the photographer knew it.”
“She used to tend a huge garden.” I laughed. “She made us weed all fucking summer until we prayed for haying time.”
Eva turned away from the wall, wistfulness in her eyes. “Sounds wonderful. Potted tomatoes sitting on a concrete pad just don’t grow the same. Especially when the neighbor keeps picking tomatoes off it when I’m at work.”
She dropped her bag on the desk and emptied it. First her tablet, then she placed her King Tech stationary, notebook, and pen off to the side.
I didn’t want to go. Being in here didn’t hurt so much with her. “I’ll be home for supper. What do you want to eat?”
“What do you guys normally have around here?”
“Meat.”
Her full lips twitched. “And potatoes.”
“Any starch will do as long as it goes with steak. I’ll find out what Dawson has planned.” I forced my feet to walk out the door, but I couldn’t leave without one last glance behind. Eva was planted behind the desk and she looked so damn comfortable that my chest ached.
Mama used to have the same look. Peaceful concentration. I would play on the floor with Aiden while the younger two napped until Dad got home from work. Then he’d take us outside to work and give Mama some peace. I could think about that without a wave of grief crushing me to my knees.
On
my way to the front door, I dove into the coat closet and pulled out my sand-colored Stetson. The cowboy hat was my runaround hat and I hadn’t worn it since moving out. With Eva here, I was sinking more into “Cowboy Beckett” and less into “Beckett King, CEO of King Tech.”
And it didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
Stuffing the hat on my head, I went out the door—only to stop and glower at the obnoxious pickup waiting for me. “Fuck you, Dawson,” I muttered and got inside.
The engine started with a roar and I was off. Clouds of dust billowed behind me as I flew toward town. Yesterday, it was private planes and personal drivers. Today it was my high school ride with the lift kit. The plane and driver helped me get more work done. I tweaked apps and read through contracts on long flights and took calls while in the vehicle. Aside from Eva fielding my calls and scheduling meetings for after this week, I wasn’t getting any work done.
And that didn’t bother me as much as it should either.
I was twenty-eight. I couldn’t be burning out already, could I?
Maybe it was the lack of vacations. Real vacations. Not meetings in exotic places.
I relaxed the more I drove. The countryside was brown this time of year. Rolling hills broke up the landscape and my family’s cattle dotted the view. Black Angus surrounded me. To my left was the golden cornfield Dawson had already cut into silage. On my right, a stock pond glittered deep blue in the sunlight, a stunning color against the crisp vegetation.
Some people thought the mountains were the only beautiful part of Montana and wouldn’t think of eastern Montana as picture-worthy like Mama had thought. But it was. The view melted my stress away like no other, and I’d been to some beautiful places.
King’s Creek approached. When I was little, it hadn’t seemed ridiculous to be surrounded by everything with my name on it. My great-great-grandfather had founded the town and kicked off the entrepreneurial spirit in the next generations.
The town, however, had never grown as large as our aspirations, but there were no truly big cities in Montana. King’s Creek had peaked at twenty thousand during the oil boom of the last decade but held steady since then. There were probably more cows than residents.
I wove through the minimal traffic to the three-story hospital. Not bothering to see if I recognized anyone, I went straight for the elevators and up to Dad’s floor. The place hadn’t changed since Mama was in here and I hated that I knew the route so well.
The elevator doors opened to a quiet floor. Nurses bustled through the halls but spoke softly to each other. Maybe I passed doctors, but everyone wore scrubs and I couldn’t tell them apart.
I found room 312. The door was closed, but that was probably because Dad insisted on privacy. Inside, Aiden sat in a padded metal chair, using Dad’s adjustable side table as a desk. Kendall was sitting next to him, watching a show on her phone, and Dad had the head of the bed up and was reading the Wall Street Journal. A King’s Creek Daily was folded on the white linens draped across him.
And fuck, it was hot in here.
Aiden didn’t do more than glance up and go back to his work. “Beck. You made it.”
Kendall smiled and shut her phone off. “Glad you could come.” She stood and laid a kiss on Dad’s lips. “I’m going to grab some coffee.”
He clasped her hand and his expression was as serious as when he’d told me he was marrying her and I’d better respect the hell out of her or he’d wonder how he failed as a father. “Don’t come back until you get some rest.”
She whispered, “You’re not my boss in here.” She winked and walked out.
“My type seems to be gorgeous and stubborn.” Dad snapped the paper together and set it down. His gaze was as sharp as ever and his barely graying brown hair was brushed into its standard Mad Men style. Except for the off-white hospital gown he was wearing, he looked like he could go right from the bed to the boardroom. “I heard you got in this morning.”
I nodded and chose the other padded metal chair next to Aiden. Being away from the office was probably killing him more than being gone from his wife.
“I wanted to get Eva settled,” I said, dreading the lie that was coming next.
Dad’s brows popped. “Your assistant came with you?”
I took a deep breath and went for it. “I didn’t want to say anything with Grams around, but I’ve been seeing Eva for a while. She took the assistant position after she was laid off, then agreed to help with Grams. But she’s really good. And…we’re engaged.”
“Oh?” He narrowed his eyes on me, and I felt ten years old again, trying to explain how Xander broke his arm if we were “just cleaning” the barn.
I ignored the dubious look Aiden shot my way. He was a smart guy and he knew me better than Dad. He’d figure it out. “I thought Grams was going to scare her away. I’d already bought the ring and everything and was planning the proposal when you all showed up.”
Dad continued to study me. “Why didn’t you tell us about her?”
I lifted a brow and flattened my tone. “The trust. I didn’t want her to think that was the only reason I was getting engaged. And I didn’t want anyone to pressure me. Like Grams.” I shrugged. “Besides, I don’t tell anyone about who I’m dating.”
The last comment clinched it. His face relaxed into a smile and delight shone in his eyes. “Congratulations. I only met her for a few minutes, but she seemed delightful.”
“She’s the one, Dad.” Was this really going to work? I leaned in and winked. “I haven’t even told Grams yet.”
Dad blinked a few times as he comprehended what I was saying, then he laughed. It helped with the guilt. “That’s my boy. Let her wait it out a little longer.” Dad’s smile faltered when his gaze slid to a still-working Aiden. “Perhaps your brother will pass down your mother’s wedding ring set.” A pregnant pause. “Since he didn’t give them to Kate.”
For all of Dad’s faults, he believed in true love, enough to fool himself that we were marrying the loves of our lives when we had a deadline and a price. That was why Aiden hadn’t proposed with Mama’s rings. I wanted to believe he loved Kate. She certainly loved him with all her generous heart, but he’d be just shy of soulless to pass on his rings to a woman he’d duped. He’d never said as much, but his rigid silence when I’d asked was enough.
“Jewelry is a personal choice, Dad.” Aiden’s standard answer.
I strove to change the subject. “Eva’s working from the house. I think she might be a country girl trapped in a city slicker, so after I’m done here I’ll give her a tour.”
“Oh, yes.” Dad nodded. “Show her on horseback.”
“She can probably see just as much from that damn pickup Dawson’s loaning me.”
That actually got a snicker from Aiden. “If that didn’t scare her away…”
“It almost scared me away. But I bet I can still drive it out of the mud patch in the north field.”
Aiden scowled at me, but a smile played across his lips. “If you had stayed out of the mud, you wouldn’t have had to prove your pickup could get out.”
“A cow was stuck.”
“And you scared it to death with that thing.”
I laughed. Yeah, I’d probably taken a few years off the heifer’s life. “So what’s going on here?”
Aiden paused long enough to update me on all things medical. Because Dad was either in denial or didn’t want to be reminded of his mortality, he started in on oil and cattle prices.
Dropping all my work and rushing here had turned out to be unnecessary, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. Eva was at my family ranch. And I had a ring to buy.
Chapter 13
Eva
I had half a ton between my legs.
“Still doing okay?” Beckett asked from his own horse beside me. He’d come back from the hospital and offered to take me for that horse ride earlier than expected. I’d gotten through as much work as I knew how with what I had access to and had j
umped at the chance to spend time in fresh air.
“Y-yeah.” As long as Fool’s Gold did everything, I would be fine. I held the reins like Beckett showed me, but it was mostly for looks. This beast would go wherever Beckett’s black horse went.
I thought of getting a picture of my Toms shoved into stirrups, but I didn’t know how Adam would deal with me having the time of my life with the man who’d destroyed his. He’d be relieved to know that I was no longer striving to get one over on his old nemesis, but would it be worse for him to know that I’d lied about not falling for Beckett? I hadn’t been smarter than that. And so Adam was added to the list of people we would tell a different story to about us.
Grams got the engagement. Neither Beckett nor I cared if she believed it was real or not. She probably wouldn’t even ask. Gentry got the true love story. The fake-engagement excuse was for the brothers, including mine.
What story was I telling myself?
Looking at Beckett didn’t help. He was sinful with his cowboy hat pulled down to block the low-hanging evening sun. His strong body rocked in time with Black Gold’s gait and his powerful thighs flexed and gripped as needed. This couldn’t be the same prick in a suit I had met on the sidewalk.
There were no buildings in sight other than his house, the red barn, and three large rectangular buildings. We were in the pasture, riding away.
“What’s over there?” I pointed in the direction that Beckett had been intermittently glaring in. I had a guess.
His eyes glittered. “The Cartwrights are over the hill. Too damn close if you ask me, and they didn’t when they planted their shack on the edge of our land.”
“Is there a King-Cartwright line I shouldn’t cross?”
“Yes. They’ll probably lift all your valuables off you like the garbage they are, and then blame it on you.”
King's Ransom (Oil Kings Book 2) Page 11
