by Reece Butler
“I knew it! He killed her!”
“We think so,” said Josh. “Proving it would be impossible. Charles knew about you, and when his grandmother said what happened to your mother, he was very suspicious. As I mentioned earlier, he was going to demand access to you, as a minimum. His death was a true accident.”
“I’m ready to see the pictures of him.”
Travis opened the envelope and took out a couple of eight by tens. He placed them in front of her. Riley and Travis looked at them over her shoulder. One showed a handsome young man, head thrown back in laughter. Another showed him looking away from the camera with a thoughtful expression.
“You get that same wistful look sometimes, sweetheart,” said Travis.
“And sometimes you laugh like that. Now you know where your spirit comes from,” added Riley. “Stark tried to squash it, but he couldn’t.”
“Thank you,” she said to Tom White with quiet dignity. “This means so much to me.”
“There’s more.” Tom slid one page out facedown. “This is what’s in your trust fund. Stark had an idea it was substantial. He expected to get access as he and Rankin agreed to share it. Stark was correct that your husband is to oversee your finances. But Charles was smart. He knew what Stark was like. The trust fund is tied up in layers, so only if you married someone who was good for you, and you loved, would the principal be released.”
Tom flipped the paper over. There was one line in the middle, in small type. Riley looked away, as did Travis. Tom leaned back, gesturing for Jane to read it. She leaned forward. The first two numbers were followed by a lot of zeros.
“You’re kidding,” she whispered. She’d hoped for a couple of thousand. This would do so much, for so many.
“A million dollars well invested over eighteen years does grow,” said Tom wryly. “What would you like to do with it?”
Jane took Riley and Travis by the hand and tugged. They looked over. Travis blanched, and Riley whistled.
“We already made plans,” said Jane. “Most of it will go to the veteran’s facility.”
“It’s a lot of money. I suggest you wait and think things over,” said Tom. He pushed back his chair and stood. Josh followed. “Stark is desperate. There’s a good chance he’ll try for the money. You have more knowledge than he does. Let us know if we can help.”
“You’ve done so much already,” said Jane. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just live a happy, long life and help others along the way.”
“I intend to, Mr. White. Thank you, Sheriff.”
The lawmen left in the sheriff’s vehicle. Both husbands turned to her, sandwiching her in hugs.
“Will you be okay, Jane?” asked Riley when she finally released him. “I can’t sit still after that, and there’s a lot to do in the barn.”
Travis looked just as antsy, so she waved them away. She could use some alone time to think. They clattered down the steps and hurried to the barn, leaving Buster as company and guard dog. Jane returned to the kitchen and puttered, unable to sit.
“I want to use the money to make some very wonderful people’s dreams come true, starting with my in-laws,” she told Buster. He wagged his tail in agreement.
Donny had beamed at her when Jane asked him about building their own home. He’d found a plan online that he loved. He’d had coffee with the Barstow brothers, who had worked on retrofitting the Tanner’s Ford Hotel. It was just a what-if chat, but the men said they’d be happy to spend more time in Climax. Their grandfather had moved away to find work, but they wanted to come back. They were on the list for overseeing the veteran rehab cabins, which would be built by the vets themselves as they learned new skills and recovered.
There were a few things Jane wanted to do to update the ranch house. She could easily live with it the way it was but new wiring and plumbing would be good. A high-efficiency furnace along with low-e windows would keep the home comfortable in the long winters she’d heard about. They could use a new tractor, and she would like her own transportation.
She’d send a big chunk to be administered by the manager of the soup kitchen and shelter she’d worked at. The woman would know many places where a few thousand dollars could do a lot of good. It would be used for small-scale projects, anonymously. Too much money all at once could overwhelm, while a bit could rally a person to get their feet under them.
A spa day once a month, just haircuts, manicures, and pedicures, which they could give each other with a bit of training, would make the abused and traumatized women feel a little bit special. It didn’t take much to raise the spirit, as long as it brought a touch of joy.
According to their sons, Keith and Donny had made all the special equipment in her bedroom. After the cruise, they hoped to rent a couple of RVs and travel over North America, attending kinky conferences to get ideas and make contacts.
They planned to build custom dungeon furniture and other so-called toys. There were a number of ranchers getting on in years who wanted to do something useful that they enjoyed, but on their terms and time scale. Having a cottage industry with separate artists, selling over the Internet, was perfect for them. Donny said they had experts in making whips, forged steel, chainmail, furniture, leather, and more.
She could quietly put in the seed money and enjoy using her business degree for something useful. Whatever was left would go into the Danny MacDougal Foundation for Veterans.
“Life is good,” she told Buster. “Or, it will be once Bertie Stark and William Rankin are in jail.”
Chapter Forty-Four
A strange noise made Jane look up from making bread a few days later. Her hands were covered in flour, so she used the back of one to push her hair out of the way. “Is that a helicopter?”
Keith left the computer to look out the window. “SAR.”
“What’s that?”
“Search and rescue. Strange it’s coming here. We would have got a call if there was an emergency. There’s no training sessions that I know of.”
Her happiness evaporated. A familiar ache started in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t matter that she belonged to Riley and Travis and their family. She shook at the thought of facing the man who’d terrorized her all her life.
She turned her attention back to the bread dough, focusing on the task. Fold and press. Fold and press. Bread making was almost as ancient as time, and soothed her soul. So many women before her had made the same motions, had lived lives of joy and pain, and survived to pass on the skill to their daughters, granddaughters, and great-granddaughters.
“It’s Brad,” called Riley from the porch. “Looks like he’s got a passenger. Whoops, he’s coming in hard. That usually means he’s carrying a government agent of some type. He likes to give them a bit of a scare.”
Riley stepped inside and shut the door before sandy dust, a product of the helicopter landing in the yard, blew into the house. The pilot aimed the blades so the worst went the other way, turning the machine so it looked as if it was standing on its nose.
If Stark was in there, he’d be green. He fired any chauffeur who took corners too quickly, or otherwise made for an uncomfortable ride.
They stayed inside until the blades stopped creating havoc. Keith was first out the door, followed by Travis, Riley, and Aggie. Jane stayed in the kitchen by the opened the window to listen. The boss of the J Bar C Ranch strode across the yard, ducked under the still-turning blades, and approached the pilot’s window.
“Practicing your aerobatics?” Keith asked the pilot, who grinned.
The others called out greetings. Their voices easily carried into the kitchen. Jane recognized the squawking sounds coming from the passenger. The huge rainbow-colored windsock they’d brought back from Port Aransas undulated in the remains of the copter’s wind. Her stomach felt the same.
“Mr. Stark gave us a check for a new chopper and gear in return for me giving him a ride here,” replied Brad. “Since he’s Riley’s pa-in-law, and this old bi
rd needed a run anyway, I thought, what the hell?”
Jane mentally added a new rescue helicopter and gear to her list of purchases. The man calling himself her father had made a promise that was accepted in good faith. She would make good on it. Keith would know how to do it so no one knew she’d paid for it. She’d ask him to guide her on other service-oriented needs she hadn’t considered.
Stark pounded on the door to get out. Riley stepped forward but Keith was closer. Jane’s hands trembled as she turned away and went back to work. Did she have time to finish the bread and put it in the pans to rise before he saw her?
“Why do I care?” she said to the supervising cat. “He’s got no claim on me now.”
The cat slowly blinked, then settled again, curled with his tail over his nose. He was warm and fed, with the anticipation of cuddles in his future. Humans and their silly behavior didn’t matter to him at all, as long as his needs were met.
Jane finished her kneading, cut the dough into three and placed each in a greased pan, tucking the ends underneath. She set them in the barely warm oven to rise. She didn’t have to do a thing Stark said. She was a married woman and would be protected by her husbands. Marci had already started preparations for a great party to celebrate their vows. It would be held at the community center, catered by the Climax Roadhouse and potluck donations. Marci had warned her about the tradition of bachelors doing embarrassing things to the husbands the night before the wedding. She’d replied she didn’t mind them getting a few tricks played on them. After all, it was a tradition. Just like spanking wives in public.
“Penelope Elizabeth Stark!”
She jumped, instinctually cringing at the furious bellow.
No. Though her heart pounded, she refused to show fear. She would not dance to his tune. She washed the dough off her hands, using a soft brush to clear the bits from her nails. Her trembling fingers wouldn’t undo the cheery apron’s double bow, so she left it on and hurried to the door. Keith had his fist curled in Stark’s two-hundred-dollar white shirt and hundred-dollar silk tie. Aggie was holding Travis back with her palms. Riley had his fists curled, ready to take over from his dad.
Jane stopped on the porch. Stark saw her and wrestled free of Keith, taking a few steps. Riley blocked him. Since he was a few inches taller, her husband looked down at Stark with contempt, making him furious. He also looked a bit green, likely from the landing. He must have been desperate to arrive by helicopter.
“What the hell were you thinking, running off?” he demanded. “I have better things to do than fly in that piece of tin to this God-forsaken part of nowhere to bring you home. I made plans, and you’d better make sure they happen.”
She heard his threat loud and clear. His eyes narrowed but his forehead didn’t crease. He must have had more Botox. The ugly furrows which bracketed his expensive dental work were faint lines. He could no longer screw up his face in rage, but she saw it all the same.
He could rage all he liked. She was Jane Adams, the wife of two furious, dangerous men, and the daughter-in-law of two more. Aggie was as eager to attack as Keith. Jane would not shame her new family by appearing frightened.
She moved to Travis, standing so her right side was blocked by his body. He trembled with rage, but was under control. Both men had promised not to harm Stark permanently, and the sheriff said they’d always kept their promises. So far.
“You will speak to my daughter-in-law with respect,” said Keith with icy calm.
“That wedding wasn’t legal,” snarled Stark. “The woman’s insane. And papers had already been signed for her to marry.”
“Not by my wife,” said Riley, cold and crisp. “Jane’s home is here, on this ranch. We’ll allow you to see her, if Jane agrees. But you will speak politely or I will toss you back in that machine and suggest Brad drop you someplace where you’ll have to walk a few miles to find something that moves on two legs.” He paused. “Other than hungry grizzlies. They get even meaner in the spring when they come out of hibernation.”
The greenish tinge on Stark’s face faded to white. Having seen real men, who loved and protected their families, Jane felt only contempt for the cowardly bully. She’d let him control her like a puppet because she was desperate to loved.
No more. She’d found love. It started with believing in herself, and what she could accomplish. Riley and Travis had nurtured those beliefs. Every positive comment had strengthened her, like a plant during a drought swelling with every drop of rain.
They’d started slowly, so they wouldn’t drown her. The drops became a trickle as she discovered who she really was when Stark’s conditioning was stripped away. And when she chose to open her heart to their love, they’d returned it in buckets.
She was not alone. She had family, and needed nothing from Stark. Knowing he was no blood relation gave her even more power. She owed him nothing but vengeance.
“Please, Mr. Adams, let him go,” she asked calmly.
Keith glared for a moment before releasing Stark with a shove, making him backpedal a few steps.
“You may be Jane’s father,” said Keith, playing along as if they knew nothing of her past, as Tom White had suggested, “but you’ll keep a civil tongue in your head on my land. It’s never right to talk to your child that way. Or a woman.”
Stark straightened his tie with as much ease as if he was in front of his cheval glass rather than in the yard of a cattle ranch. But she knew the signs. He was furious. Someone would pay. If she didn’t go with him, he would try to rain destruction on every person in this valley and town.
He didn’t care what happened, as long as he got what he wanted. If he could, he’d buy the whole valley, one ranch at a time, and destroy it. But he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as making people suffer. He was the type to hire someone to fly over the ranches at night and drop salt licks impregnated with poisonous chemicals. No one would know what was killing the animals. He’d laugh to see their crops and animals die, their wives and children get sick, and their barns and homes burn to the ground.
He knew how to corrupt officials by throwing money at them. Even here, as proven by the fact he’d arrived on a search and rescue helicopter. But according to Tom, Stark no longer had the resources to continue.
An arm wrapped around her from behind. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Travis. She allowed herself to feel his strength, just for a moment.
“Get in.” Stark didn’t bother to look at her, expecting instant obedience.
“Jane’s not going anywhere,” said Travis from over her head. Riley moved to her side, fists still tight. “If you won’t speak up for yourself, I will,” he added, aiming the words at her.
She could hear the strain in their voices, could feel what it took them to stand behind her rather than attack the man threatening her. Riley was the same, and his parents. Even Buster, who’d slunk into the yard and now sat on her feet, trembled. But they stood up for her. One word, and she knew all three would attack him, for her. And that was the last thing that could happen.
Stark turned his pale-gray eyes on her. She wanted to look away but knew that staring at him made him even more furious.
“You have a wedding to attend,” he said calmly. “The ceremony’s in two weeks.”
As usual, he wouldn’t listen to anything inconvenient to him. No matter how often she said she was married, he’d refuse to believe it.
He could spout whatever he liked, her dream wedding would happen here in Climax, with the entire town invited. It would cost little, as everyone would bring something to share. The only present she wanted was the joy of a community sharing their hearts.
Stark had already boasted he would recreate the pomp and circumstance of William and Kate’s royal wedding for Sissy, that his daughter would have a wedding suited to a princess. He wanted to be seen as a prince among men, rather than the poisonous cane toad she knew him to be. Jane could now look at him with pity. No amount of money would change a toad into a prince.
Oh, God, she’d hoped no one here would learn about that.
Though her face heated in response, she gave Stark a look of scorn. “You know it was Sissy who did that, not me.”
“Everyone believes it was you, and that’s all that counts. I had plans for you. But then Rankin found out you’ve been fucking a couple of ranch hands, and called off the deal.”
Oh, thank God! One less monster to think about.
“Let me hit him, Jane,” said Riley, squeezing his big hands into fists. “Just one punch? Pretty please?”
Stark blanched. Riley’s wink, aimed in her direction, proved he was only partially serious, and was in control.
“What is that abomination you are wearing?” demanded Stark.
The apron was old, one of the first ones made by Aggie’s eldest daughter. It had huge yellow sunflowers all over it. Brown rickrack edged the pockets and the hem. She smoothed her hands over it. To her, it was a thing of beauty because it was made with love.
“It’s an apron. I was making bread.”
“Bread? With your hands?” Disgust was plain in every fiber of his being. “You’re living here as a servant, instead of in luxury?”
“Jane’s not a servant,” said Aggie.
“Everyone has to work on a ranch,” added Riley.
“Playing house with your lovers?” His lip curled in disgust. “Get your ass in that chopper, girlie.”
“Don’t!” She ordered, again pressing her arms out to hold her men back.
“Protecting your playthings? How sweet.” His false charm turned dark. “Get in!”
“You have no control over me.”
“I’m your father.”
“No, you’re not.”
Stark sent a look of contempt at Riley. “Told the little woman, did you?”
“One punch each?” asked Travis. “That’s only two.”
“Don’t forget me,” added Keith.
