break it. Any news?”
“Her friend Vanessa said she’d keep me updated, even when she ain’t supposed to. Because Lainie works there, because everybody loves her so much, they’re all worried, which makes it worse. Jesus. I can’t . . .” His voice cracked.
Abe glanced at the speedometer. Ninety-five.
“Lainie shouldn’t have been workin’. She should’ve been at home with her feet up takin’ it easy.”
“I’d say it’s a damn good thing this happened when she was at work and not at home.” He kept his eyes on the road when he said, “Tell me what’s eating at you, Hank.”
“What if it comes down to saving Lainie’s life or the baby’s . . . ?”
“It won’t come to that. You hear me? They’re gonna do everything to save them both.”
Hank nodded. But Abe knew he wasn’t convinced. Hank’s cell phone buzzed and he answered, “How’s Lainie? No. I understand. Really? She’s okay? What color? I’ll be damned. Thanks.”
“What?”
“I’m a father. They delivered the baby. It’s a girl.”
Relief rolled over him. “She’s all right?”
“Apparently. She has Lainie’s hair color and she’s screaming like a banshee. Probably wants her mama. Lainie’s still in surgery.”
“You know me’n Celia are gonna spoil that baby girl rotten.” Abe kept talking the rest of the way to Rawlins.
When they turned onto the street leading to the hospital, Hank said, “Thanks for—”
“No need to thank me. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
“I know. You’ve always been the one constant in my life, Abe. Don’t think I don’t appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” Hank bailed out of the truck and ran in the emergency entrance doors.
Abe parked and considered calling Janie to apologize for his rudeness, but they both needed time to cool off. He just hoped she wouldn’t run off.
For the first hour in the waiting room he read magazines. For the second hour he watched TV. At the start of hour three he closed his eyes rather than watch an older man pace back and forth in front of the windows, muttering to himself.
A tap on his shoulder woke him. At first he didn’t recognize the blue scrubs. Then he looked up into Hank’s face. The frown lines on his forehead had eased somewhat, as had the pinched lines around his mouth. “Lainie?”
“Is fine. She had some kind of placenta rupture. They fixed her up and she’s in recovery. She’s groggy, but she’s fine.” Hank closed his eyes and seemed to have trouble swallowing. When he repeated, “She’s fine,” Abe wondered how many times Hank would say that before he truly believed it.
“Come on. I want you to meet your niece.” They cut down a hallway and stopped in front of a window, but the shades were pulled. Hank said, “Be right back.”
Abe slumped against the wall, wanting to weep with relief that everything had turned out all right. A door opened and Hank, his rough-and-tumble little brother with the enormous hands and body that took punishment from angry bulls, cradled a tiny pink bundle. When Hank tore his gaze away from his newborn daughter and looked at Abe, with such fierce love and awe on his face, damn if Abe didn’t tear up.
“This is Brianna Kate Lawson. Brianna, this is your Uncle Abe. And guess what, baby girl? He’s already promised to buy you a pony.”
That’d teach Abe to babble under duress. He squinted at the face nearly hidden beneath the pink blanket. “Why’s she wearin’ a hat?”
“Keeps her tiny head warm.” Hank gestured with his chin. “Go ahead and slide it up. Check out her hair. Sweetpea’s got a head full of it.”
Abe gently edged the hat up and grinned at the coppery curls identical to Lainie’s. “She’s Lainie’s Mini-Me.”
“Isn’t she beautiful? Just like her mama.” Hank lovingly pressed his lips to the baby’s forehead, then gave Abe a stern look. “Now cover her head back up like it was so she don’t get a chill.”
“Sheesh.” Abe couldn’t help but touch her plump cheek. Marvel at this new addition into all their lives. “Congrats, bro, Miss Brianna is amazing. Has her mama seen her?”
“Briefly. Guess she’s makin’ a pretty big fuss about wanting her baby, so that’s where we’re headed now.” Hank started down the hallway and stopped.
Happy as he was for his brother and sister-in-law, Abe wanted a family of his own. With Janie. And he understood he might have to make some hard decisions about his future to ensure that would happen. Because he wouldn’t live without her ever again.
Abe donned his coat and trudged to the parking lot to his truck. He yawned when he noticed it was one o’clock in the morning.
When he pulled up to the ranch house, Janie’s car was gone.
Chapter Thirty-five
Tierney wasn’t surprised by the summons from her father for a breakfast meeting. Right after Renner unloaded her luggage last night, he’d kissed her, urged her to get a full night’s rest, and left her alone. Sleep had been the last thing on her mind. Especially since Renner hadn’t said a word about anything her father had said.
As usual, her father didn’t make small talk. “I had time to think about what you said last night, and I realized you’re right.”
Sipping her coffee, she watched her father cut up a slice of bacon into perfectly even pieces. “Right about what?”
“About your salary being on the low end.” He popped a bacon chunk in his mouth and chewed. “I’m amending my offer; return to Chicago and I’ll double your salary. I’ll start to train you to take the reins as CFO.”
“When?”
“Training would start immediately. You cannot deny the appeal of becoming CFO of a major company before your fortieth birthday.”
There was a huge difference between his promise of her becoming CFO in five years like he’d hinted at last night, or before her fortieth birthday, which wouldn’t happen for another fourteen years. His vague language always tripped people up, in conversations and with contracts.
“I also want to apologize for keeping you stuck in an office, away from the interpersonal workings of the company. I’m pleased to see that your hands-on experience the last few months has vastly improved your people skills. I will feel more comfortable letting you handle some of the face-to-face meetings.”
Tierney rested her elbows on the table. “After what’s happened here? Really? You aren’t afraid that I’ll end up in bed with male clients seeking financing from PFG? Or will you strictly have me dealing with female clients?”
He smiled. Delicately wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. “I trust your moral character. I’m sure being isolated, out of your social element and in constant contact with Jackson played a part in your intimate involvement with him.”
The bastard was a master at backhanded compliments.
“But I warn you that Jackson has been married before. Twice. Both short-term liaisons, so I fear his affections are easily earned, easily discarded.”
She wasn’t surprised her father knew about Renner’s marriages—he thoroughly investigated any person he intended to do business with. But why did he think she didn’t know? “If multiple marriages are a sign of a lapse in judgment, you’d fall into that same category.”
“But there is a difference.”
“Which is?”
“I didn’t use money, money I hadn’t earned, to set me on the path to success.”
No. You’ve just built your success on the backs of people desperate enough to come to you for a loan. “Cut to the chase. What are your terms?”
“You’ll inform Mr. Jackson you’re returning to Chicago to reclaim your position in the company. But in order to assure there are no ill personal feelings, or any issues with his financial obligation, that PFG is voiding the contract. He’ll own the Split Rock, the land, and the buildings free and clear.”
“And if he refuses?”
“He won’t. If you love him as you say you do, you’ll encourage him to ta
ke this deal at face value, so he gets the one thing he wants, which, contrary to your belief, isn’t you, my dear—but this piece of property. Win-win situation for everyone.”
“What if I refuse your terms? For the sake of argument, let’s say I stick around to tie up loose ends. During that time, I have a change of heart and decide to stay at Split Rock with Renner. And we’ll continue to run the resort as we’ve been. What then?”
All humor fled his face. His eyes became black chips of ice. “You really don’t want to push me on this. I’m being more than generous. To you. And to him.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Running the resort as you’ve been won’t last long. Renner Jackson is six weeks and two days out from making his first payment on the loan. In the fine print—and yes, daughter, there is always fine print, you’d be wise to check it—is a clause that states I have the right to demand the loan be paid in full, for any reason, before the first payment is made.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen that clause. He has five years to make full restitution for the loan amount.”
“No, he does not . . . If I invoke the clause. Nonpayment will put the loan in immediate default, which means PFG would own this property.” He flashed his teeth. “I believe some of my less than PC colleagues call this the ‘by the short hairs’ clause.”
Tierney swallowed, hoping the contents of her stomach wouldn’t come back up onto the table. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. And trust me, I wouldn’t lose a single wink of sleep over enforcing it.”
How was she supposed to blithely crush Renner’s dream and destroy him financially?
Stay with Renner and he loses the Split Rock.
Leave the Split Rock and the only thing Renner loses is her.
Pretty cut-and-dried decision.
Where would that leave her? Emotionally decimated. She couldn’t go back to being the person she’d been before Renner came into her life. She didn’t want to.
Why had her father put the decision on her shoulders? Why wouldn’t he engage Renner in this? Threaten or bribe him?
That’s when Tierney understood this was a game. Gene Pratt excelled at playing one side against the other—especially when two sides started out united. Holding this discussion with her was only half his battle plan. Her decision, her verbal confirmation, would give him the tactical advantage of knowing exactly what type of ammunition to use on Renner.
Not this time. She would not allow him to win. This time she intended to win it all. But first she’d have to level the playing field and become as devious as her father. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m confused.”
“I know this is hard.” He softened his tone. “I can see your feelings for Jackson are genuine. But because you don’t have much experience with relationships, I believe you’re ignoring the possibility this is just a short-term fling for him.”
Seething, she looked away.
“I don’t enjoy seeing you upset. Which is why I came here. I had to make sure you weren’t making a mistake.”
Tierney met the phony concern in her father’s eyes. “I don’t think I can make a decision one way or another right now.”
That did not please him. Another of Gene Pratt’s strengths? Pushing for a fast decision. But Tierney admitting she was torn seemed to mollify him. “I understand. I’m leaving in the morning, but you can call me anytime. All I’ve ever wanted was what’s best for you.”
His idea of love was a twisted array of pride, money and expectation. “Thanks. If you’ll excuse me, I have a stack of paperwork to catch up on after being gone.”
“I don’t have to ask you not to discuss any of this with Jackson, do I?”
“Renner and I are involved. What he wants from me should factor into my final decision.”
“On a personal front, talk about it until you’re blue in the face.” He leaned closer. “But on a business front, you cannot discuss specific contract terms with him, as what we discussed falls under business confidentiality.”
Bullshit. Renner signed the contract; he had a right to know what it contained, especially since he’d missed the fine print. So for the first time in her life, Tierney looked her father in the eye and lied. “I understand.”
He patted her hand, in a pseudo-fatherly gesture that turned her stomach. “I won’t keep you from your work. But I’d like to have dinner, if you’re free tonight.”
Another bogus offer. Her father seriously underestimated what she knew about his business practices. He had no intention of being here tonight. He’d said his piece to her and set everything in motion. She smiled and lied again. “Of course I’m free. I’ll ask Dodie to create something special just for us.”
Renner wasn’t looking forward to telling Tierney he had to leave again because Pritchett needed his help. Funny, the idea of Pritchett needing help with the business Renner owned. A business he’d sadly neglected in the last year when he’d been building the resort.
Chances were high he wouldn’t end up owning the Split Rock when the chips started to fall. The smartest thing he’d done was to keep his stock contracting business out of financial dealings with PFG. So he wouldn’t lose everything.
But no doubt in his mind he stood to lose a lot. The worst was the thought of losing Tierney.
Goddammit, he loved her. Loved her in that all-consuming way that scared the living hell out of him because he’d never ever felt that way before. She’d barged into his life, into his bed, into his heart, attaching herself to every part of him and he couldn’t fathom being without her.
The door banged open. A shadow solidified. The man strolled into the barn like he wasn’t wearing tasseled loafers.
Good thing Renner had a shovel nearby to dig the pile of shit this man was about to unload on him. He smiled, resting his forearm on the top of the corral. “If you’re lookin’ for me, I’m back here.”
“Yes, I was looking for you.” Pratt paused. Probably wanting to mimic Renner’s posture, but not willing to soil his snappy suit to prove he was the type of guy who hung out in barns.
“You and your daughter have one thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t have a freakin’ clue about what type of shoes to wear in here. Be mindful of the piles of shit.”
Gene’s eyes narrowed and he managed a terse, “Thanks for the warning.”
“No problem. So, whatcha need?”
“I thought we should touch base. I’m pleased that the revenues are on par with initial expectations.”
“That’s happy news for you financial types.” Renner cocked his head. “But you’re not pleased I’m involved with Tierney. You here to warn me off?”
“In a manner of speaking. I don’t know how you feel about Tierney—to some extent it doesn’t matter.”
Wrong. It mattered a whole helluva lot. But he wanted to see where Pratt was going with this.
“My daughter is stubborn. If I said red, she’d say blue. Then she’d change her answer to red. Tierney wants to be an independent thinker. But in the end she always sees things my way.”
Renner whistled. “That’s harsh. That’s also making a pretty broad assumption about her.”
Pratt adjusted his tie. “I know her better than she thinks I do.”
The cocky statement pissed him off, because it was a total lie. “Well, Daddy-o, I’ll go out on a limb to say I know Tierney on a completely different level than you do. A level you ought not discount if this conversation is goin’ where I think it is.”
“Lust fades. As a man who’s been married as many times as you, I know of what I speak.”
“You think I’m surprised you know my marital history? Wrong. Ain’t something I hide.”
“But you did hide that your first wife’s daddy paid you off.”
“She wanted out of the marriage. Daddy made it happen and decided to compensate me for the hell I endured. I sure didn’t argue.” Renner allowed the man
a once over. “Is that why you’re here? To see if I’m still that kind of guy?”
Pratt gave him an equally measured look. “That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?”
“So be a man about it and get to the fucking point.”
“I’m willing to sign over the Split Rock in its entirety to you and stamp the loan paid in full.”
“What’s the catch?”
Pratt smiled tightly. “Really. You need me to spell it out for you?”
“I’m betting all’s I have to do is tell Tierney she was a fling and I want her out of my life for good.”
“Simple, but effective.”
“Oh, and let me guess. You get to tell her that I’d rather have a chunk of dirt than her. That I am the same moneygrubbing piece of shit I’ve always been because I could be bought off. And she’s better off without me.”
“In a nutshell: yes.”
Renner laughed scathingly. “In a nutshell: no. Fuck no.”
Wrangled and Tangled Page 33
