by Jane Porter
“No.” Taylor hesitated, her heart pounding a little too fast, making her suddenly queasy. She really didn’t like discussing Doug with others. Family dynamics were difficult enough without other people weighing in. “Take care of my brother.”
“You have a younger brother?”
“He’s not a child. He’s twenty-two. He’s... at Hogue Ranch.”
McKenna’s forehead creased. “That work ranch, halfway house place out in Paradise Valley?”
Taylor nodded again. “He’s been there since late August, and he had a chance to be released before Christmas. He was supposed to come live with me, but the judge didn’t think I was old enough, and mature enough, to manage my brother, so instead of letting Doug spend the six month probation period with me, he said Doug had to stay at Hogue.”
“What did your brother do?”
“He has a mood disorder.”
“I don’t understand. Did he hurt someone? Attack someone?”
“No. He was argumentative with a local sheriff who pulled him over for driving too fast. They booked him, and drug tested him and he tested positive for marijuana. He tried to explain that he was argumentative because the sheriff treated him like he was an idiot, and he’s not, and then they labeled him he as some loser, and he’s not. Doug said in court that he sometimes smokes to manage his depression but the judge said this isn’t Colorado or California. If he wants to be a drug addict, go there.” Taylor swallowed hard, and again. “Hogue isn’t a good place for him. It’s hard core. Most men there have been in and out of jail a couple of times, but Doug’s not a criminal. He has a mood disorder.”
“Is that what you told the judge?”
“I told the judge that Doug needed help. Counseling. Better depression medicine. Or a better dose of his medicine. But the judge dismissed everything I said, claiming that I was too young, and too immature, to know what was right for my brother.”
McKenna regarded her for a long moment. “You’re angry.”
“I am.” Taylor drew a slow breath and blinked, clearing her vision. “If I were a man, the judge wouldn’t have talked to me like I was little girl. If I’d been a local, I can guarantee that my brother wouldn’t be at Hogue right now. My brother would be living with me. Kara even said as much after it was all over.”
“Kara Jones? The district attorney?”
“She’s my roommate. Well, house mate. I rent a room from her, and have been living there since I arrived in Marietta last November.”
“And Kara couldn’t help you?”
“No. Conflict of interest.”
“You’d think the judge would see that as a plus on your side. You live with Marietta’s DA!”
“Kara wanted me to ask one of the local ranching families like the MacCreadies or Carrigans or Sheenans to hire Doug. She thought Brock Sheenan would be the perfect person to approach. She said everyone knows Brock, and Brock’s solid and no-nonsense, and went to school with the judge’s daughter, but I was afraid to approach him. Brock didn’t know me from Adam and it made me nervous to get strangers involved. It still does. Doug’s had a hard life. My parents treated him different than me. They were not loving towards him--” Taylor broke off, bit down into her lower lip to hold the tears back. “He’s spent his life struggling to come to terms with their rejection, and he’s allowed to have feelings and be frustrated and figure out who he is, and what he wants, without all of Crawford County judging him.”
McKenna waited a moment before speaking. “But you know Brock now,” she said quietly. “You’ve met him, you’ve met Harley. He has a big spread, too, and is always looking for help, particularly in the Spring. He’s got a foreman who has been with him a long time, and his hands are all good people. He’ll be hiring a few new guys soon. This would be the time to talk to him.”
“But it’s too late now. Doug has to remain at Hogue until the end of May.”
“Or not.” McKenna held her gaze. “I think you should hire a good attorney and let your friends here in Marietta help you.”
Taylor said nothing and McKenna reached across the table and tapped her arm.
“Are you listening?” McKenna asked.
Taylor looked up at her. “I am, but McKenna, you grew up here, everybody cares about you here. I’m not Marietta’s sweetheart. I’m a nobody here.”
“I can help you.”
“How?”
“I can go to Brock or Cormac or Troy—”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to beg for favors from the Sheenans. That’s wrong. They don’t know me—”
“You’re going to the Ball with Troy!”
“I explained this already. I’m going with Troy because Jane forced us together.”
“Phooey. Open your eyes. Use your brain.” McKenna drummed her hand on the table. “Nobody forces Troy to do anything. Not even Trey could get Troy to do something Troy didn’t want to do. And Trey was persuasive, and stubborn, but Troy is strong. Troy doesn’t take crap from anyone, and he doesn’t play games. If he likes you, he likes you, and if he doesn’t, he avoids you. And if you’re going to the Ball with him, it’s because he wanted to take you, and if he’s kissed you, it’s because he wanted to put his lips on your lips. Nobody made him.”
Taylor hung her head, embarrassed. She knew McKenna was looking at her but Taylor didn’t know what to say, or how to articulate her feelings. It was hard enough worrying about her brother and struggling to come to terms with how he’d been rejected by her parents and society, without her having to deal with rejection, too.
It was a challenge coming to terms with Doug’s depression, and supporting him through his disappointments without her feeling disappointed in herself.
Without her feeling disappointed in her dreams.
Better to not want too much or dream too big...
Better to keep one’s expectations small, and manageable...
“Why are you so afraid to like Troy?” McKenna asked quietly.
Taylor pictured him—tall and so darkly handsome--in his long black wool coat and fitted cashmere sweater stepping from his big black Escalade. The man had a private jet. He lived in some outrageous mansion in the most affluent neighborhood in San Francisco. He lived in a world she didn’t know and didn’t understand and would never be part of. “He has so much.”
“Yes?”
“It’s overwhelming to me.”
“But you’re not a shallow woman. You’re not attracted to his things. You’re attracted to him. So don’t let grumpy old Judge McCorkle turn you into a timid little mouse. Have confidence. Enjoy life. Enjoy your life. You’re beautiful—”
“I’m not.”
“You are. Just lose the sweater sets and grandma pearls and men’s glasses.”
“Even if I dressed like a hipster, Troy would still be out of my league. He’s a city slicker—”
“Not true. He’s pure Montana, and yes, he lives in San Francisco but that’s because he’s brilliant and innovative and that’s where technology and opportunity is, but that doesn’t mean he’s not real. And solid. And smart. And loving. Because he is.”
Taylor exhaled hard, feeling naked and exposed. She was so private, she was, and she appreciated McKenna’s pep talk but it wasn’t comfortable. None of this was comfortable and Taylor just wanted the spotlight off of her and this painful conversation to end. “If you’re such a fan, why didn’t you fall for Troy instead of Trey? Why wasn’t he the right Sheenan?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Taylor knew she’d said the wrong thing. She didn’t even need to see McKenna’s face to know it was wrong. She felt it in her heart.
It was spiteful. Mean.
And McKenna froze before her eyes, her features hardening, her expression shuttering.
For a moment there was just silence, and the silence made Taylor feel even worse.
“Sorry,” Taylor whispered, kicking herself, hating herself, ashamed she’d said something so
unkind to McKenna who had been nothing but kind. “That was terrible. Forgive me.”
“It’s actually a very good question,” McKenna said, coolly, smiling faintly. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Taylor wished the ground would open up and just swallow her. “I really am sorry,” she whispered, mouth dry. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it—”
“But you’re right. I’m sure everyone else thinks the same thing. Why didn’t I fall in love with Troy? My life would have been so different. So much... easier.” McKenna drained her margarita and then glanced at her watch. “Oh dear, it’s late. I need to go. My sitter has a big test tomorrow. I promised I wouldn’t keep her out too late.”
“I should go, too,” Taylor said, rising, aware that she’d ruined the mood, and maybe the evening, too. “I really am sorry, McKenna. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive, and I shouldn’t have said what I did—”
“Stop. You’re fine,” McKenna said firmly, cutting the apology off. “I’m fine. No harm done. Honestly. And yes, you should speak up. Speak your mind. You can’t go through life minimizing yourself, marginalizing yourself, hoping it will please others.” She wagged her finger at Taylor, a hint of her good humor returning. “I used to be a big sister, so I’ll tell you what I would have told my sister, Grace. Don’t live to please others. Don’t think everyone else knows what’s right or true. Listen to yourself, and be true to yourself. That way, no matter what else happens in life, you will always have your self-respect.”
McKenna finished buttoning her coat and slipped her gloves on. “And I don’t know why I didn’t fall for Troy,” she added thoughtfully as they started for the door. “Troy is everything Trey isn’t. He’s good, he’s kind, he’s responsible. Successful. He doesn’t drink too much and he doesn’t get into bar fights—” She broke off, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “No. He’s nothing like Trey, which is why he doesn’t make my heart race or my pulse quicken or make me feel special, and beautiful, and new. And Trey made me feel that. From day one. From day one Trey made me feel like I was the most amazing girl in the world.” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “How can you not love a man that makes you feel like a goddess... absolutely divine?”
And then she was walking, quickly, and Taylor followed behind her, processing everything that had happened, and everything she and McKenna had talked about, realizing that McKenna Douglas wasn’t just beautiful and talented, she was also surprisingly wise.
Chapter Eight
Troy was glad that the uncomfortable ninety minute dinner with Judge McCorkle at the Graff was over and he was now free to sit at the bar at Grey’s and just relax.
Ninety minutes wasn’t long when you were dining with friends or a beautiful woman, but ninety minutes was endless when you were being solicited for a loan.
Judge Joe McCorkle found himself on the wrong side of a business deal and was in financial trouble. Of course he didn’t want anyone in the community to know he’d made some mistakes with his investments, and that he’d already taken out a second mortgage on his house to sort things out only to have just dug himself deeper into debt. He’d already approached both local banks and Big Sky Credit Union, and all three had turned him down. Judge McCorkle was a risk. He was also nearing retirement. How could he ever pay the loan back?
For that matter, how could he save his house? His wife had no idea that they could soon lose their home, and everything they’d worked for.
Troy had listened to all this over a dinner of steak and whiskey. He paid for the dinner. The Judge had no money.
The Judge knew Troy had money.
What was a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar loan between friends? Hadn’t Troy gone to school with his daughter Susie? (And no, Troy hadn’t. Brock had.)
Troy hadn’t told the judge yes. But he hadn’t told him no. He had to think about it. Had to figure out where the money would come from, and be realistic about McCorkle’s ability to pay him back.
The Judge might not ever be able to pay him back.
This wasn’t the first time Troy was approached by a Marietta individual needing assistance. It wouldn’t be the last.
As Troy entered Grey’s, he spotted a half dozen different people he knew. Callan Carrigan was in the far back, shooting pool, with a couple of Brock’s young hired hands. Dawson O’Dell and a young off duty sheriff were eating burgers at a table on one side, while McKenna and Taylor were having drinks on the other side.
Interesting, seeing McKenna and Taylor together. Troy hadn’t known they were friends. Taylor certainly hadn’t said anything last night at the Diner to indicate that she and McKenna were close.
He didn’t have a problem with them being friends. If anything, he thought it’d be good for Taylor to have someone like McKenna in her corner. You couldn’t ask for a better friend than McKenna. McKenna didn’t bullshit and she wasn’t superficial, and she was the first to stand up for the underdog.
What did surprise him was seeing McKenna head his way. He’d only just ordered a beer when McKenna arrived at his side.
“Hey,” McKenna said, greeting him.
“Hey, yourself,” he said, sliding off the bar stool. “Hello, Taylor,” he added, nodding at the librarian who was hanging back, as if to give them space. Troy turned his attention to McKenna. “You okay?”
She tucked a long dark red strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry about last night.”
“It’s fine.”
“I wanted to talk to you, but its... weird.”
“I get it.”
She shook her head, jaw set, frustration evident. “It’s always such a shock... seeing you... even now. I know you can’t help looking like him, the rat bastard.”
Troy reached out and folded McKenna into a quick hug. “The curse of being an identical twin,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
“I should hate you,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
“You should.”
She looked up at him, smiling faintly, crookedly. “I don’t.”
“That’s good.” He released her, and watched as she stepped back, moving closer to Taylor. McKenna had been a very pretty girl and she’d grown into an absolutely stunning woman with long auburn hair, light green eyes, high cheekbones and a perfect chin, beneath perfect lips. But beneath her beauty was sadness. Her fire and courage didn’t completely mask her pain. McKenna had lived through a terrible tragedy and then she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t get his shit together long enough to protect her properly so that her wounds could heal. Instead Trey just kept hurting her, making the scars and pain worse.
“How’s TJ?” Troy asked. Is he doing okay?”
“He’s smart as a whip. And a chip off the old block.”
“Lucky you.”
“Haha.”
Troy glanced at Taylor, not wanting to leave her out of the conversation and yet not sure how to include her, before focusing back on McKenna. “I’d love to come see him while I’m in town. If you’re alright with that.”
McKenna smiled. “That’d be great. He’d love seeing you.” She hesitated. “But it is confusing for him. You look, you know, like his—” she broke off, smiled, even as tears glittered in her eyes. “So how is everyone? How’s your dad?”
“Dad’s not doing well. He’s fading fast. I think it’d be a miracle if he makes it another two weeks.”
“I’m sorry.” She hesitated. “Do you think he’d want... to see... TJ?”
“I’m sure he would. Maybe we can bring TJ by this weekend while I’m still home?”
She nodded and drew a deep breath. “I don’t know if you’ve heard. I’m engaged, to Larry... Lawrence... Joplin.”
“Dillon told me.”
McKenna glanced at Taylor, who was still hanging back, and then at Troy. “I have to do what’s right for me and TJ.”
“I understand.”
“TJ needs stability and security. I need stability and security.”
<
br /> “We all understand. We do. And we support you. We love you.”
McKenna’s eyes narrowed and she looked away, focusing very hard on a distant point across the bar. “I haven’t told Trey. I’m not going to.”
“Okay.”
McKenna glanced at Taylor again, and struggled to smile. “I understand you’re taking Taylor to the Ball.”
Troy saw Taylor’s eyes widen behind her big glasses. She looked positively mortified. “Yes,” he said, checking his smile. “Taylor has most graciously agreed to accompany me to the Ball.”
“That was very nice of her,” McKenna said, lips curving. “And that’s because she’s a nice girl, Troy, not like your big city floozies. So please, Troy, be on your best behavior Friday night.” She winked and walked out.
McKenna exited Grey’s front door so fast, Taylor didn’t have a chance to follow. But then, after McKenna’s teasing final remarks, Taylor had no desire to follow.
“That was so unbelievably awkward,” she murmured, her face hot, certain her cheeks were red.
Troy grinned down at her. “The family history, or the comment about my floozies?”
Heat washed through her all over again. “I don’t care about the family history, or if you date floozies. In fact, good for you if do.”
She started for the door but Troy, reached out, grabbed the hood on her winter coat and kept her from escaping.
“Where are you going so fast?” he asked.
“Home.” She tugged on her coat, trying to free herself. “And I’ve just hurt McKenna’s feelings so let go, before I hurt yours.”
He let her go. “Why did you hurt her feelings?”
Taylor exhaled and shook her head, still upset with herself. “She was being so nice and I’m not that nice. I’m not. And so I said something I shouldn’t have, and I think it made her sad.”
“What did you say?”
“You don’t want to know.” She jammed her hands into her coat pockets and hunched her shoulders. “I still feel terrible for saying it.”
“Now you have to tell me. What did you say to her?”
Taylor’s shoulders rose higher. “She kept talking about you... paying you all these compliments and it was frustrating and so I said... that if she liked you so much, why Trey? Why not you?”
