Haley nodded and fumbled through her drawers for clean underwear and clothes. Making sure the towel was secure, she stepped into a pair of panties. Keeping her back turned, she donned a bra, then pulled out the first t-shirt and pair of jeans she could find. Dressed, she sat on the edge of the bed to pull on socks and boots before standing to face her father.
“What do you want, Pa?” As if she didn’t know.
“You never was over smart, was you, gal?” He looked around the bedroom. “Come for what’s mine.”
Jesus, she was tired of this, tired of him thinking he could just keep taking and taking without ever thinking of anyone but himself.
“Ain’t nothing here belongs to you and you know it. Aunt Jack left it to me.”
Kent grinned. “What’s yours is mine, darlin’, thought you’d a figgerd that out by now.”
Her mouth compressed into a tight line. “It ain’t.”
Kent Kilpatrick stood up, towering over her. “Well I’m sorry to hear you feel that way, girl. Guess I’ll just have to inherit.”
Haley looked at her father and returned his grin. “You really are a pathetic piece of shit.” She folded her arms over her chest. “But I got a piece of news for you, Daddy. Anything happens to me, everything I got goes to my husband.” She held up her hand before her father could say anything. “Anything happens to my husband, this ranch and his, plus every dime we got goes to charity. Nobody gets nothing, not even Conner.”
There was no way to duck the backhand and Haley cried out in pain. The sight of the pistol opened a cut over her right eye.
“You conniving little bitch,” Kent snarled. He grabbed a handful of hair, fisting it and slammed her against hard against the wall. “Wills were meant to be changed and you’ll by God change it or I’ll wipe out everything you hold dear.”
His grip tightened painfully as he propelled her through the door and down the stairs. As they neared the bottom of the stairs, the screen door opened.
“Haley, folks are waiting on—”
Her father jerked her to a stop as Wyatt froze in the doorway. Nooo. Please God, not Wyatt. Anything but that.
“Ain’t this an interestin’ turn of events,” Kent drawled. “This your man?” When she refused to answer, he gave her a hard shake. “I asked you a question, girl.”
“I’m Wyatt Brody, Haley’s husband. What can we do for you, Mr. Kilpatrick?”
A shudder raced through Haley’s entire body when her father laughed. “Why he’s got hisself some real good manners, ain’t he?” Her father looked down at her. “I do believe I found somethin’ you’re willin’ to bargain for, ain’t that right girl?” She moaned when her father cocked the pistol he was holding. He shook her again. “Ain’t that right?”
“Yessir,” she whispered.
“What’s that, I didn’t hear ya.”
Haley sobbed. “I said ‘yessir’. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt him.”
“Get in here, son. And don’t make no sudden moves.”
Relief washed through her when Wyatt did as he was told. She knew damn well what he was carrying in his boot. Confident that he had them both under control, Kent urged her down the last few stairs.
“Why don’t you let her go, Mr. Kilpatrick? She’s bleeding pretty good. Need to put pressure on that cut.” His voice was remarkably strong but Haley knew better than to think his mind wasn’t moving a million miles a minute.
“Pa, please. Let me go to him. Neither of us is armed. You got the gun.”
Kent gestured for Wyatt to come further into the room, then shoved Haley toward her husband. She stumbled, the blood leaking from the wound blurring her vision. She’d never felt so much relief in her life as when her husband’s arms went around her. But that didn’t take away the fact the gun was still cocked and pointed at Wyatt.
“It’ll be all right, sweet pea,” he told her. She didn’t believe it but she loved him for saying it.
Footsteps thumped unevenly up the stairs and Haley cringed in horror. Conner. Her brother pushed through the door.
“Hey, what’s taking so… Pa?”
Haley knew a moment of distrust. Had Conner arranged this? Had he somehow smuggled her father into the house? She shook her head. No. He wouldn’t. Not after Rafe Winslow. Not after the snakes. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Kent Kilpatrick evidentially believed differently because he gestured for Conner to come in.
“Took you long enough, boy. What the hell happened to your leg?”
“What are you talking about, Pa?” Conner edged closer to Haley. “How’d you get in here?”
Kent scowled. “Through the root cellar. Rafe didn’t call you with the plan?”
Conner stiffened. “Ain’t heard from that son of a bitch since he tried to set me up for killing some poor girl. Damn near got me killed from the snakes he dumped in the barn. He’s bad news, Pa.”
Kent smiled, nodded. “He was just tryin’ to keep you in line, son, so’s you didn’t chicken out.” He shrugged. “Rafe ain’t gonna be a problem no more. Seems he got hisself shot over at the Flyin’ W. Wasn’t nothin’ I could do for him but put him outta his misery.”
Haley sagged against Wyatt. How could this man be her father? She’d always known he was meaner than a hot skillet full of rattlers but she’d never dreamed he would do cold-blooded murder. Wyatt tightened his arms around her.
“How could you, Pa? You were gonna marry me off to Rafe Winslow. The man was an animal. A killer. He raped and murdered a young girl and left her body on my land, on my aunt’s grave. What kind of father would let his daughter marry a man like that?” Kent said nothing, just glared at her. “You’ve always been a sorry excuse for a father. Mean and selfish as the day is long.
“In all the years you had us, you never once hugged us. Never put our needs first. If you didn’t want us, why didn’t you take us to Aunt Jack and be done with it? What did we do to deserve the way you treated us? My god, Pa, did you ever want us? Did you ever love us?”
Her father sneered at her. “Hell, no. I didn’t want either one of you. What did I want with a couple of sniveling, snot-nosed brats? I told your Ma to get rid of you but she wouldn’t. You were her responsibility, then she up and died and left me saddled with a responsibility I didn’t want. You should be grateful I didn’t leave you out in the desert for the coyotes.”
“Grateful?” Haley scoffed. “For what? Gettin’ beat all the time? Bein’ so hungry I thought my belly was gonna cut my throat? The only thing I was ever grateful for what that you went to prison. Unchristian as it is, I used to wish that guy you stabbed had died so Texas would give you the needle.”
Kent racked a bullet into the chamber, visibly shaking with anger. “You always was a stupid little cunt. I see that ain’t changed, standin’ here sassin’ a man holdin’ a gun on you.” His gaze swiveled to Connor.
“Is your sister’s lawyer part of that crowd outside?”
“Yessir,” Conner answered.
“Go on out and get him. Your sister’s about to sign over the deed to this place.”
Haley straightened and pulled away from Wyatt. “The hell I will, you shiftless fucker. I’d rather die than see you get something you ain’t earned.”
“Haley,” Wyatt said, but her father cut him off.
Kent’s face contorted in rage. “If that’s the case then I’ll send you to hell, girl.”
She’d never believed it when people said time seemed to slow down, to move in slow motion but that’s what happened.
“No!” Wyatt hollered and shoved her out of the way.
Knocked off balance, she went down, screaming as the gun went off. Wyatt staggered and dropped to one knee.
“You bastard,” Haley screamed at Kent. She snatched a heavy snow globe from the table and hurled it at her father. The globe glanced off Kent’s shoulder and the next shot went wide, taking out the flat screen television.
Conner made a move toward his father but Kent smacke
d him away like a pesky mosquito. At that moment, Haley was sure they were all dead but the screen door flew open, Dooley bellowing a curse as he burst through it. There was a loud roar, like thunder breaking right over her head, and her daddy lurched back a step before falling to the floor.
Time resumed and Haley sobbed her husband’s name. She scrambled to where he lay bleeding on the floor as people poured into the house—sheriff’s deputies, neighbors, everyone talking at the same time. Someone called 9-1-1 as she held Wyatt.
“It’s okay, sweet pea,” he said, soothing her with his voice. “I don’t think it’s too bad.” Someone forcibly removed Wyatt from her arms and took him away. Would the nightmare never end?
* * * * *
The rest of the night was a blur of law enforcement, statements, and pacing the surgical waiting room. The bullet had hit Wyatt in the arm, breaking the humerus. How could anyone expect her to answer questions when doctors were operating on her husband?
Haley sighed in relief when he was out of recovery and resting peacefully in his room. Exhausted, she pulled a chair to his bedside and laid her head on the mattress, one arm extended across his belly. She woke to the touch of his hand stroking her hair and sat up.
“Hey,” Wyatt said.
“Hey yourself. Are you in much pain? Should I call a nurse?”
“I’m okay. Just let me look at you.“ He closed his eyes for a few moments and she thought he’d fallen asleep. When he opened them again, they were red-rimmed. “I came so close to losing you.”
“I thought I was going to lose you. I’m so sorry, Wyatt. After everything that’s happened, I still couldn’t believe my pa would stoop to killin’ his own child. But it’s over now…he didn’t make it.” Her eyes filled, tears coursing down her cheeks. Haley shook her head. “I should hate him. I know I should but, good or bad, he was my daddy. I just…I don’t know that I’ll ever understand, Wyatt.” She put her hand over her belly. “How can a person not love their own flesh and blood?”
Wyatt took her hand. “I wish I had the answer you’re looking for, darlin’ but I don’t. All I can do is make you a promise. We’ll fill our home with so much love and laughter, there won’t be a minute that goes by our children will doubt they’re loved. I reckon that’s the best anybody can do.”
Wyatt’s nurse popped her head in the door. “I thought I heard voices. How you feeling, Mr. Brody? Are you in much pain?”
“Hurts like I’ve been mule stomped but considering how things might have ended, I don’t mind the pain too much.”
The nurse smiled. “I’ll get you something for the pain.” She was back in a few minutes, syringe in hand. “Doc says you can go home in a couple of days if you don’t develop an infection.”
* * * * *
As Haley turned onto the freshly graded lane, her husband sighed and squeezed her knee. “Almost home, sweet pea.”
She looked over at him, smiling happily. “Home. When I think of all the time I spent imagining what it would be like to have a home, I always pictured something like the One-Eyed Jack. I never understood that the thing that makes a place a home isn’t the house or the furnishings but the people who fill it.” She braked to a stop in front of the house, resting her hand on her belly. “You and this little sprout.” Her gaze swept around the house and building as grinning hands, led by Dooley, poured out to welcome them back. The screen door flew open and Maria appeared on the porch, lovingly scolding her children to be careful of Wyatt’s shoulder as they dashed down the stairs. He brother hobbled out of the bunkhouse, a smile lighting his face. “All of these good people. That’s what makes a home.”
Wyatt leaned across the seat to brush her lips with a gentle kiss. “Welcome home, darlin’.”
About India Masters
India Masters was born and raised in a small coastal town in Florida, where she learned to love surf fishing, boating, and anything to do with the outdoors and water. She has been happily single since the mid-’90s with no plans to rectify the situation. She has a twenty-two-year-old daughter whom she refers to as the coolest person currently breathing on Earth.
India is a multi-published author and recently finaled third in the Great Expectations writing contest in the erotica category. She is a retired social worker who has worked in community mental health, corrections, addictions and child welfare. She has an undergrad degree in Forensic Pathology and recently earned her Master’s of Science in Psychology.
India welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by India Masters
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Almost Home
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Almost Home Copyright © 2012 India Masters
Edited by Elizabeth London
Cover design by Mina Carter
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Electronic book publication December 2012
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