Closer to You (A Haven, Montana Novel)

by Jill Sanders

  He turned around, his hands going to her shoulders as his eyes searched hers.

  “Sorry . . .” He shook his head. “Why did you avoid me?”

  “I didn’t,” she lied.

  His eyebrows rose slightly. “I called.”

  She took a step back. “Sure you did. But you also knew where I was staying and not once did I hear a knock on my door.”

  “I thought . . .” He stopped when he heard Rea answer a call behind him. Shaking his head, he dropped his hands and continued to his office.

  She followed him more slowly.

  When she shut the door behind her, he turned back toward her.

  “I thought you would need some space.”

  “Yet you’re mad at me for not answering your calls?” she said, raising her chin slightly.

  He sighed and leaned against his desk. “Yeah, I guess my reasoning was a little . . . flawed.”

  “You think?” she said, smiling. She’d gotten the upper hand and wasn’t going to let that go for the moment. When he didn’t respond, she stepped forward. “What’s this about protesters?”

  He sighed. “A group of activists have made camp just north of town in the state park. Most of the time, protesters are peaceful,” he added.

  “What, exactly, are they protesting?” She wondered what had brought them to the area, and whether it might have an impact on JB’s interest in Tyler’s company.

  He shrugged before answering. “Usually, they protest either oil fields, the pipelines, or just the use of the land in general.”

  She walked over and sat down in front of him. “Are you worried?”

  “We’ve had them before.” He sighed and looked a little sad. “I won’t know anything more until I go out and talk to them.”

  “You?” She sat up. “You’re going to talk to them?”

  “Sure,” he walked over and sat behind his desk. “My father used to settle things one-on-one.” His eyes turned sad and she could tell he was lost in memories. “I remember this one time he brought me out with him. That group had done some minor damage to some of our equipment. He didn’t go out to confront them, he just wanted to talk, to hear them out. He took them all hot food and cold beers. Then, the next day, everyone packed up and left.”

  “He must have made an impression,” she said. “I would’ve liked to have met him.”

  Tyler looked up at her. “He would have welcomed you with open arms.” He laughed. “Would’ve had you eating out of his hands too. My father was a smooth talker.”

  “And you aren’t?” she said, remembering how he’d made her melt with his words before his lips met hers.

  His eyes moved back to hers and cleared. “I didn’t kiss you to win you over.”

  “No.” It came out as a whisper. “I didn’t think you had.”

  “Good. At least we’re clear on that point.”

  “I’d like to go with you.” She wanted to see how he would handle the situation, and she was curious how news of the protests might affect her boss—he’d be expecting an update soon on her progress.

  He shrugged, then turned back to his computer. “I’ll leave in an hour.”

  She made her way back out to Rea. The woman smiled as she shut Tyler’s door.

  “Are you okay?” Kristen asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry about . . .”

  “Don’t.” Kristen sat in front of the woman. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. Tyler filled me in for the most part.”

  “Brian has just lost his way. I should have given him more attention.”

  “From what Tyler says, there wasn’t really anything anyone could have done.”

  Rea sighed and closed her eyes. “No, there wasn’t. He was a bad seed just like his father.”

  “How did he die?” Kristen finally asked after a moment.

  “He killed himself,” Rea said and Kristen could see the pain behind her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She felt bad for asking.

  “Don’t be. He wasn’t any good. He put me in the hospital a few times. The McGowans were always there for me.” She wiped a tear from her face. “They helped me through the tough times. Helped me back on my feet after everything.” Her eyes met Kristen’s. “I know you’re here to try and get them to sell out, but believe me when I say that this”—she glanced around—“is so much more than a business, it’s a family. Go with Trent one day to the fields. Talk to the men who’ve worked here for years. McGowan Enterprises is more than just numbers in a spreadsheet. It’s the livelihood of so many people in this town.”

  Kristen thought about it while she waited for Tyler to come out and get her. When he finally did, he looked determined. Without saying a word, she pulled on her coat and followed him outside.

  “When we get there, I do the talking,” he said, helping her up into the truck. She’d grown accustomed to riding in it and had worn her slacks today just in case.

  “Sure, no problem,” she said.

  They drove in silence through town and when they reached the outskirts, he turned off the main road.

  When they pulled into the parking area of the state park, Kristen was shocked to see how many protesters there were.

  It appeared that everyone was trying to get organized at the moment. They were busy setting up tables and booths while others continued to build or pitch their own shelters and tents.

  “There must be close to a hundred.”

  “You’d be surprised at how many people will show up for free food,” Tyler said under his breath.

  She stopped him from getting out of the truck by putting her hand on his arm. “My cousin has been involved in a few protests.” He shifted toward her, interested. “My aunt may be crazy, but her son is very sane.”

  “And?” He waited.

  “Zack loves all things Earth, people, animals, and health. He’s an advocate for fairness. He doesn’t do it for the free food. These people deserve to be heard and respected. No matter what.”

  Tyler took a deep breath, then nodded. “You’re right. My father always treated them with kindness. He said it was one of the main reasons we never had any major issues with them.”

  She smiled. “He sounds like he was a really intelligent man.”

  “I’m finding it very difficult to live in his shadow.”

  Tyler stood in the cold and talked to a group of people he’d been told were the organizers of the protest. There were three of them. One man by the name of Beau and two women, Joy and Addy.

  Addy seemed to know Tyler, which threw him off. He didn’t remember her until she told him that she’d grown up in Haven and gone to school with his brother Trent.

  Tyler apologized to the pretty brunette, embarrassed, but she just laughed and shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t his type,” she said, looking down at her hands.

  Tyler found that hard to believe, since the woman was a knockout.

  It appeared the protesters were there for one reason. They’d gotten wind that NewField, a subsidiary of DW Petroleum Industries, was going to be buying McGowan Enterprises. Once the sale went through, they’d begin fracking in the area, on his current clients’ private land and without their permission.

  He spent almost an hour assuring the group that his family was not selling his company and even if they did, it would void any contracts currently between McGowan Enterprises and the landowners. Not to mention that the fracking they were afraid of was expressly against all contracts he had with NewField. He couldn’t count how many times he reiterated that they were not selling McGowan Enterprises and that they would never frack for oil, but the protesters were still adamant about sticking around.

  By the time he and Kristen drove away, his head was splitting and his voice was a little hoarse.

  It made him wonder what exactly NewField and DW Petroleum had to do with the flood of buyout offers just after his father’s death. Were they somehow behind this new offer from JB? He knew that NewField was curre
ntly fracking to get to oil in other locations, but never on private land, and never on land McGowan serviced and had contracts with.

  His father had been anti-fracking, and so he and his brothers continued that sentiment.

  “Where do you think these rumors are coming from?” Kristen asked as they drove through town.

  “I don’t know,” he said, but something in the bottom of his gut twitched.

  After a few minutes of silence, he pulled into the diner. “Hungry?”

  “Starved,” she answered.

  When he walked in, instead of heading back toward an empty booth, he walked over to the bar area where Dennis Rodgers and two of his cronies sat eating burgers. Tyler knew he’d find the man—a project manager for NewField—at his regular spot. At least he could be relied on for that much.

  “You hear about the protesters?” he asked, without saying hello.

  Tyler didn’t like Dennis, despite the fact that he’d known the guy his entire life.

  Dennis was his father’s age, and a million times more ruthless than anyone he’d ever met. The man went through workers like Tic Tacs. Actually, back in the day, Dennis had worked for Tyler’s father, back when he’d gotten the business started. But a few months before McGowan Enterprises really took off, Dennis took a job with NewField.

  Dennis glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “They’ll be gone before the next cold breeze.”

  “They tell me there are rumors that we’re gonna sell, and that NewField plans to expand their fracking to this area. Where would they hear such a thing?” Tyler said, planting his feet firmly, showing the man he wasn’t going to be brushed off.

  Dennis set his burger down and swiveled toward him. He could see the instant fire behind the man’s eyes until those eyes landed on Kristen, who stood to his right.

  “Well, well, you must be the lucky lady JB sent?” It was more of a statement than a question, but Kristen’s chin fell slightly in agreement.

  “I’m Kristen Howell.” She moved closer to Tyler’s shoulder but didn’t hold out her hand for the man. “You work for NewField?”

  Tyler watched the man’s eyes roam over her, then return to lock with hers.

  “Yes, I’m the project manager for NewField. We lay and service the pipelines, do our own digging where necessary. Tyler here may negotiate the local land deals, dig in these parts, but I’m the go-between with him and the bigwigs at DW Petroleum, the guys that buy all the crude oil and refine it.”

  “Which is why I assured the protesters that McGowan is not selling to NewField and that there was no way NewField was going to start fracking around here. Since as you’ve said yourself, I’m in charge of digging in these parts,” Tyler pointed out.

  Dennis turned back toward him. “We do have a few places we do our own digging.”

  “Yes, but those are all on land DW Petroleum owns,” Tyler responded. “And they’re about a hundred miles from Haven.” He widened his stance slightly. “It might go a long way if you’d stop by and tell the protesters NewField has no intention of breaking a contract.”

  Dennis’s eyes narrowed. “I see no reason to waste my time.” He turned back around, but paused and smiled up at Kristen. “It was sure nice meeting you. If you need anything while you’re in town, look me up.”

  Tyler took Kristen’s arm and walked her toward the back booth. When he sat down, his sour mood and headache had tripled.

  Dennis hadn’t exactly confirmed or denied anything. The man was as slippery as a snake. Which meant Tyler was going to spend the rest of the day bringing his brothers up to speed so there could be three sets of eyes and ears watching the protesters and Dennis Rodgers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kristen spent the rest of the day going through McGowan’s books. Trent and Trey showed up shortly after they returned from lunch. She could hear them all arguing in Tyler’s office.

  Rea only chuckled every now and then when a choice curse word was loud enough for them to hear.

  At one point, Kristen had gotten up to go intervene, but Rea had stopped her.

  “Honey, it’s what brothers do. Maybe if Brian had a brother, he would have turned out better.”

  Sadness crossed the older woman’s eyes. Then she shocked Kristen by looking up into her eyes.

  “When you have kids, don’t stop at one.”

  “Kids?” She took a step back. “I’m not having kids.”

  “Ever?” Rea smiled and shook her head. “Honey, you’re too young to write off having a family.” She turned back toward the computer screen, dismissing the conversation.

  Rea’s casual comments shook Kristen to the core. As the afternoon hours ticked by, she struggled to focus on the numbers in front of her. All she could think about was what she wanted for her future. Living in the city, one thing had been extremely clear: she was never going to have kids. It wasn’t as if the schools weren’t good in New York. But when you factored in the high cost of living in a place big enough for kids, then added private schools, cars, and so on, she had never believed she could afford to want anything other than a cozy relationship with a man she loved and respected.

  But, out here in the wide-open space, that probably seemed ridiculous. Here, people could easily afford to have half a dozen kids.

  Something she’d dreamed about when she’d been younger, an only child. A large family.

  When the numbers and letters started to blur on the screen, she shut the computer down and decided to call it an early day. She wasn’t getting anywhere trying to determine from the back end why her boss was so set on this business deal.

  When she walked out, both Trey and Trent were still in Tyler’s office. The room had grown quiet, and she was dying to find out what they were discussing.

  Her cell phone rang when she climbed into the car. Turning the key, she cranked the heater to full blast and answered the call from her boss.

  “I thought I’d check in and see how things are going.”

  “They aren’t.” She sighed and leaned back, tucking her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she rubbed her hands together, waiting for the windshield to defrost.

  “What do you mean? Have they looked over the proposal?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” She glanced up as she watched Trey walk out of the trailer.

  “What do you mean?” Her boss’s voice raised slightly. “You’ve given it to them, correct?”

  “Of course I have.” She smiled at Trey as he climbed behind the wheel of his own massive truck.

  “Well, do they have any questions?”

  “Loads of them, starting with the same one I asked you a few days ago. What are JB’s plans with McGowan Enterprises?”

  “I’ve told you, we currently don’t have—”

  “Mr. Burnett, it’s the only question they have. The business is their father’s legacy. They won’t sell unless they’re certain of what a sale means for the company’s future. As soon as you answer their question, I’m sure we’ll have our answer.”

  He was silent for a few seconds. She’d never interrupted her boss or spoken so frankly before. Always careful not to be labeled as shrill, Kristen had never rocked the boat.

  Thoughts of getting fired while she was halfway across the United States crossed her mind. Until he finally sighed.

  “I’ll get back to you. Until I do, I expect you to do everything in your power to make the McGowan brothers believe selling is in their best interest.”

  She rubbed her fingers over her forehead and nodded. “Fine.” She sighed. “Is there anything else?”

  “No. For now, stay put, and stay charming.” He hung up the phone and her eyes narrowed.

  “Stay charming?” The statement ran through her mind as she drove back to her hotel room.

  Her stomach had been growling when she’d gotten into the car, but by the time she shut herself in her hotel room and away from the cold, food was the farthest from her mind.

  “Stay charming?” The more she though
t about it, the more she was sure he was playing a dangerously sexist game.

  What did that mean? Surely he wasn’t trying to hint that she’d been shipped off to the frozen wasteland just because she was charming. Or that her job was to get the McGowan men to sell out because she was . . . what? Pretty? Charming?

  Sure, smoothing things over with clients was a major part of her job. She’d even learned how to work her charms to the company’s benefit. But, for some reason, hearing it from him made her feel . . . dirty.

  Her mind flashed on an image of Darla walking around with more than half of her skin exposed for everyone to see. The comparison had her stomach turning.

  Kristen’s skin started to crawl as she wondered if her job was somehow akin to the women working down at the Wet Spot.

  Peeling off her clothes, she stepped into the hot shower as her mind played over the last few years she’d worked for JB. It was like the crisp mountain air of Montana combined with Mr. Burnett’s careless words had removed blinders she’d been wearing.

  Instance after instance suddenly became clear to her. All the times she’d been expected to dine out with potential clients in lieu of holding normal business meetings in a conference room. All the deals she’d been involved with in a junior capacity—the men handling the nitty-gritty negotiations, and her just smiling along.

  She’d been flirted with more times than she cared to count, and a couple of times, a client’s hand had rested on her leg for too long. She’d brushed it off as harmless, stayed silent for fear of repercussions. Anything to climb the corporate ladder. After all, her eyes had been solidly fixed on her own goals.

  Closing her eyes now, she let the water run over her and realized tears were sliding down her cheeks. Turning off the water, she wrapped a towel around her and looked at her reflection in the foggy mirror. Her skin was red from the hot water and tears, causing her eyes to appear greener than ever. Even with the extra hue, she could see the sadness behind the color. This wasn’t what she had planned. Was it?

  How had she allowed her life to take such a dramatic turn? And for what? The latest styles, expensive shoes, and handbags?