Forever Wild: A Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  Indie checked the time on her cell phone again. Dear God, how had she only been there one hour?

  “Indie.” Miranda grabbed her blouse and jerked her into the butler’s pantry.

  “What?”

  “Listen, Mel really wants to have a bachelorette party. Nothing crazy. No strippers or anything, but I completely forgot to plan anything until I heard her talking to Tuck when I got here. Help, please.”

  “Miranda, I’m really not the party planning kind of girl. You know that. Does she just want to go get drunk or what?”

  “This is Mel we’re talking about. She wants a stupid rhinestone bride crown, feather boas, body glitter, a sash, gifts that vibrate, fuzzy handcuffs, and pink girly drinks with umbrellas in them. Where the hell are we gonna find all of that in the Glen?”

  Indie couldn’t help but grin. Though she was only seventeen minutes older than Melony, Miranda had always been more serious and determined than her twin. She was Pleasant Glen High School’s power hitter on the softball team and took most things in stride. She didn’t have Indie’s temper, but she never let anyone push her around either. After years of allowing Carolyn to paint her face with Avon’s newest products, she’d followed in Indie’s footsteps of not caring for makeup, much to her mother’s chagrin. She and Indie had never really understood Melony’s affinity for all things girly, but if their little sister wanted to go full-on princess just before becoming a farmer’s wife, they’d do their very best.

  Another thought occurred to her while she was explaining that they’d have no choice but to make a trip into Lincoln for supplies and that she’d check with Eliza about using the semi-private back room at Saddleback’s one night that week.

  “Is Tucker having a bachelor party?” Thoughts of some gorgeous stripper shaking her tits in Luke’s face made Indie want to vomit and then tie up the fictional stripper with her g-string.

  “Not really. Tuck informed Luke and all of his brothers that the last decade of his life had been one long bachelor’s party and that he was done with it all. Swears he wants Mel and only her for the rest of his life. He agreed to drinks and burgers with all of them at Luke’s house, but that’s it. He threatened bodily harm to anyone that tries to pull something.”

  Still shocked at the new and improved Tucker Kilroy, Indie shrugged. “Guess some things do change.”

  Miranda nodded. “Yeah, he’s got it bad for our baby sister.”

  “Makes you wonder if baby sis has whips and thigh-high black leather boots hidden somewhere, doesn’t it?”

  When they emerged giggling from their hide out, their aunts were being escorted into the house. Indie’s stomach lurched and she fought the desire to slip out the back door, jump in her car, and fly away.

  Apparently, Miranda had been gifted the talent of mind reading since Indie’s last visit because she grasped her hand. “Just stay with me. If we have to jump them, I’ll take out Aunt Linda, you get Aunt Lori.”

  “Deal.” Indie ground her teeth. Twins were very common on her mother’s side of the family. Her aunts were two years older than her mother and were also twice as bitchy.

  “Well, Anna.” Linda’s mouth pursed in indignation and Indie braced for impact. “I was unaware you’d been invited to Melony’s brunch. I see you’re still not making enough with your little car hobby to afford appropriate clothing, however.”

  “Linda, dear, do remember things in the Women’s sections of the store cost a good deal more. At least she didn’t show up in coveralls. That’s something,” Lori sneered.

  Miranda’s grip on Indie’s arm increased as unmitigated fury incensed Indie’s blood.

  “Just smile and move on. They’re trying to get a rile out of you. They always are,” Miranda spoke through clenched teeth.

  She was right. Ever since her mother had up and married Ernie Perkins, her aunts had gone from bad to worse. Neither had ever married nor had children of their own. They’d taken to mothering Indie’s sisters from their birth, but had never wanted to have anything to do with Indie.

  When she was ten, her Aunt Linda had tried to talk Carolyn into selling Indie’s horse in an effort to make her more lady-like. Indie had overheard their scheming while they sat at the kitchen table trying out a variety of wrinkle creams, and had promptly informed her aunt that it wouldn’t matter how much of the cream she used, she’d still be an ugly bitch, and that if anyone sold her horse, she’d make certain her aunt’s Cadillac never ran again. That had been the final nail in the coffin for Indie, but the ridiculous jealousy over their little sister becoming the Glen’s first lady and moving into a fancy ass house had been more than they could stand. Now, they generally stayed hunkered together anytime they were at the house, making bitchy remarks about most anything and taking pot shot insults at all three of their nieces.

  Indie screwed up her face until she managed something she hoped resembled an arrogant smile. “Aunt Lori, Aunt Linda,” she sidled closer, narrowing her eyes, “you know, if you really try, you might could grab each other’s ears and pull hard enough to actually be able to get your heads out of each other’s asses. Good luck with that. Let me know if you need some help. I’m sure I’ve got some heavy duty jacks that might just work.”

  Miranda’s hand slapped over her own mouth to keep her hysterical laughter from being heard three states away. Indie took a champagne spritzer from one of the waiter’s trays and lifted the glass to her aunts before she turned and almost bumped into Jessie Camden. Her eyes goggled. Shit. There was no way Luke’s mother hadn’t overheard her retort. To her relief, Jessie was doing her best to keep from joining Miranda’s laughter. Indie adored Luke’s mama. She just doubted that Jessie Camden would really want one of her sons to be with someone as unrefined as Indie.

  When Indie followed Jessie and Miranda through the buffet line, her aunts’ comments were audible to the entire party. “Anna, dear, does someone your size really feel it’s wise to have two finger sandwiches. Carbs aren’t your friend, you know,” Lori tsked.

  “Yes, I’m sure Melony would be pleased if you’d show some restraint since you will be in the wedding Saturday. After that you can go back to eating like a hog.”

  “Oh God. Indie please, please don’t hit them,” Melony whispered frantically.

  Melony had nothing to worry about in that department. She wouldn’t give her aunts the satisfaction. The insult pierced through her skin and levied its blow to her soul. It racked its heavy weight on top of every other hateful comment she’d endured her entire life. Pretending to be unaffected was something she’d mastered in high school. The invisible scars were far worse than the kind people could actually see. She knew. She had both.

  Keeping a baleful glare on her aunts, she added two more sandwiches to her plate, flipped them off, and joined Jessie at one of the tables.

  Jessie looked almost as sickened by her aunts as Indie felt. “Honey, why do you even come here? No one would blame you for never setting foot in this ridiculous house ever again,” she whispered as Indie took her seat.

  “I’m here for my sisters. It’s always like this, Mrs. Camden. I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine, sweetheart. You are beautiful, and sweet, and smart, and a wonderful woman, but right now, you are not fine. If you want to walk out right now, I’ll go with you, put you in my truck, and take you to my ranch where I know my son would love for you to be. This entire thing is ridiculous.”

  “I’m very sorry, Jessie, what was that?” Carolyn sneered.

  Shit. Indie and Jessie both whipped around to discover Indie’s mother standing directly behind them carrying a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries to the buffet table.

  “Nothing, Mama,” Indie whispered.

  “It was most certainly something,” Carolyn demanded with her nose high enough in the air if it rained she’d drown.

  “I was just saying that the way you and your sisters treat Indie is ridiculous, Carolyn.” Jessie Camden narrowed her eyes. Indie’s heart pounded out its sh
ock. No one but Luke had ever come to her defense when it came to her mother. Challenge lit through the stuffy air vacuuming the room of the pleasant chatter that had been present a moment earlier. The silence pounded in time with Indie’s frantic heartbeat.

  Carolyn glanced around nervously. Every eye was on her. Offering a haughty glare to the onlookers, she leaned in for the kill. “You know, Jessie, Ernie and I are very weary of the Camden’s lording your land and your status over this entire town,” she hissed like the snake she was, “and I think it’s high time something was done about it.” With that, she leaned back and daggered the silent room with fabricated laughter as if she’d just told Mrs. Camden a joke. Setting the tray of strawberries on the buffet table, she whisked quickly back to the head table.

  “Mrs. Camden, I’m so sorry,” Indie offered pathetically.

  “Oh honey,” she chuckled, “this has been coming to a head for the last several years, and it has nothing to do with you. Don’t you worry. Only thing you have to be sorry about is that you let her keep you from Luke. That’s the only thing that breaks my heart, Indie Jane. Only thing that breaks his, too.” She squeezed Indie’s thigh reassuringly. “Ev has a sayin’. If we tried to run cattle with other people’s opinions, we’d be up shit creek without a paddle. He’s right, too, you know. Letting anybody else’s thoughts about your life be your guiding force is the quickest way to be miserable. If our lame-duck mayor and your mama want to take on the Camdens, have no doubt, we won’t be the ones that go down.”

  A hundred different thoughts rampaged Indie’s mind. Why would Jessie think her mama and the mayor would want to take on the Camdens, and over what? The knowing look in Jessie’s eyes said she knew much more than she was saying.

  Tension continued to whisper through the air as the party bled seamlessly from the food to the gifts. No one spoke of the incident between Jessie and Indie’s mother, but everyone kept a keen eye on the two of them and on Indie. The weight of everyone’s curiosity was getting to her. She longed to tell everyone in attendance, minus Luke’s sweet mama, to fuck off as she bolted out the door.

  Melony politely oohed and ahhed over some ridiculous silver serving tray and matching tea set from their aunts.

  “Yeah, I’m sure Tuck will relish having tea parties every night after he comes in from tasseling two thousand pounds of corn before shipping it to market,” Indie huffed under her breath.

  Miranda and Jessie both chuckled their agreement.

  “When Tucker and Luke were about eight years old, they used one of Sandy Kilroy’s sugar bowls to collect cutworms they pulled off the corn stalks. Now he has one of his own and can leave his mama’s alone,” Jessie chided, bringing on more laughter from Indie and Miranda.

  The gifts from the Lincoln elite were equally as comical when one tried to apply them to Tucker and Melony’s farm life together. Bone china, crystal vases, and some bizarre rendition of the Greek pottery housed at the Joslyn Museum in Omaha, hand-picked by Ernie’s airheaded secretary, Tiffany. It was the ugliest urn-like item Indie had ever laid eyes on, and when Melony turned it around so everyone could see the image, Indie and Miranda cracked up loudly. The image on the massive urn was of Hades and Persephone, if Indie remembered correctly. Whoever it was, the dude was fingering the girl on the urn, and she didn’t look too happy about it. Melony was the approximate shade of the burnt umber urn in question. Her mouth gaped open for a full minute.

  “Uh, thank you so much, Tiffany. You really shouldn’t have,” she finally managed.

  “Oh, as soon as I saw it, I knew you would love it,” Tiffany babbled stupidly. “Ernie always talks about how much you love Greek pottery.”

  “He does?” Melony shot her help me glare at her sisters. “I don’t really know anything about Greek pottery.”

  “Certainly you do, Melony.” Panic tensed in Carolyn’s tone. “Remember, you went on and on to your father and I all about taking your class to the museum to see Greek pottery.”

  “No, I didn’t. We took them to the Children’s Museum to play in an exhibit of Rome under Caesar’s rule.”

  “Yes, well, same thing. Open the next gift,” Carolyn demanded.

  Indie spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how the hell either Ernie or Tiffany had gotten Greek Pottery out of Caesar and Rome to keep from correcting her mother on exactly whom Melony’s father was.

  Melony grinned as she lifted Indie’s gift from the pile. “I don’t even have to look at the tag. Thanks, Indie. Tuck’ll love this!” A few shocked chuckles made their way through the crowd of people who’d never been so far outside of the city of Lincoln.

  “You got your sister tools for a bridal shower?” Aunt Linda disdained.

  “Yeah, I did. Nice set. I’ve had the same one for years. I use them all the time,” Indie came right back.

  Carolyn was making her way over, livid fury aglow in her eyes. “Can I speak to you in the kitchen, Indieanna?!”

  Seeing the potential for either a fight or a flight opportunity, Indie followed after her mother.

  “Are you happy with yourself?” her mother spat.

  “Generally.”

  “You just love making a mockery of your stepfather, even using your little sister as a pawn in your game.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Mother? That’s a really expensive set. I worked overtime for a week to be able to afford it on top of paying my rent. How is that making a mockery of anyone? I’m not the one that gave her Greek sex pots. Why don’t you go yell at Tiffany?”

  “Tiffany’s gift was thoughtful. She obviously just got confused. She went all the way to the museum in Omaha for that. She put effort into the gift, unlike you. Did you just grab the last thing you saw on your way out of Ben’s shop? Is that really how little you care?”

  “I just said I worked overtime to get that set, Mother, but you know what, it won’t ever matter. Nothing I ever do will be good enough for you. I honestly don’t know why I even try.”

  “Well, you certainly didn’t try very hard. Showing up here dressed for horseback riding, looking like you spent the night working a brothel.” She gestured to the hickeys on Indie’s neck. “And then giving your sister a ridiculous gift like that at a formal brunch with half of the governing officials from the state in attendance.”

  Stabbing pain ricocheted from her heart to her head, igniting the fury burning in her gut. “You know what, Mom, you can go straight to hell. Trust me, no one will care.” With that, she turned and sprinted out of the house, directly into … Luke’s arms.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hey there, baby doll. I’ve gotcha.” Luke caught Indie in her obvious escape. Knowing his baby better than anyone ever had, he’d been waiting on the wrap around porch of the mayor’s house right outside the kitchen door. She never would have run out the front because that would have upset Melony.

  She buried her head in his chest, clinging to him fiercely. He strengthened his hold and cradled the back of her head with one hand while he steadied her with the other.

  “What are you doing here?” hummed against his chest.

  Smiling, he kissed the top of her head. “Been out here about an hour. Gets me all turned on when I make myself believe that you need me to save you, and I kinda thought you might like to get away for a little while after this thing. Come on. I packed blankets, firewood, and the cooler in the truck. Got nowhere to be but wherever you wanna go.”

  “I did need you to save me,” she admitted much to his shock.

  Wrapping his arm over her shoulders, he gently eased her down the porch steps headed towards his truck. “Careful there, darlin’. You keep saying stuff like that I’m real likely to march back in that house and give your mama what-for while sporting the hard-on you just gave me.”

  “Be my guest.” Indie sank her teeth into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

  Luke fought the desperate desire to tell off her mother and her aunts based on Tucker’s description of the beg
inning of the party. He’d been ordered away just before everyone ate and hadn’t been able to give Luke anymore details.

  “Your mom didn’t call you?” Indie climbed up in the truck and crossed her arms over her chest. Defeat tugged at Luke’s soul. Her customary defensive stance. Something else must’ve happened beyond her aunts’ cruel remarks about her weight.

  “No. Should she have?” Gravel and dust spit into the air as Luke backed out of the driveway, quickly putting distance between Indie and her shit-for-brains mother.

  “I just thought that’s why you really showed up.”

  “Wasn’t lying to you, sugar. Never have. Never will. I came because I knew someone would be a bitch to my beautiful baby. I was trying to talk myself out of coming in when you came running out. Wanna tell me what happened?”

  Indie shook her head. Luke knew the story would come out in fragmented bits of pain and anger over the next several hours when he made her feel safe enough to talk. He just had to be patient and let her stew on it for a little while, constantly reassuring her that he would always be there no matter what. Convincing her of that was always the hard part. If your own mother didn’t want you, why would anyone else? Nausea roiled through his gut at that realization.

  Keeping her fingers linked with his, he drew an audible breath and went on with the rest of his plan. “All right then, how about we drive far enough out we lose all hope of a cell signal and spend the rest of the day pretending we’re the only two people left on this ridiculous planet?”

  That earned him a smile. “Are we also going to pretend it’s our job to repopulate it?”

  Laughing, Luke nodded. “Sounds like a heck of a plan to me, but all I want is my girl tucked up safe in my arms in the bed of my truck. Everyone else can fuck the hell off.”

  He reveled in the sweet heat of the kiss she leaned across his truck to whisper on his jaw. “I will never deserve you, Luke Camden, but thanks for always knowing exactly what I need.”