by KB Winters
They were both young and blonde and had identical faces. The one in dark jeans stepped forward and crossed her arms. “We work here, who are you?”
“I own this ranch now and you don’t just slam in here like a bunch of animals. Now tell me who the hell you are or get out.” I didn’t normally talk to women like that but we were in a new place and Maisie was my top priority. Always. And I wasn’t going to have any woman smart-mouthing around her.
The one in the light jeans sauntered toward me, looking just as snooty and defiant as her twin. But clearly she was the smart one. “I’m Adrian and this is Evelyn. Martha is our mom. She works here, you know?”
Fuck my fucking life sideways and without lube. “Then explain to me why Martha is doing laundry when that is not her job?”
Evelyn yawned and looked down at her nails, a pointed effort to let me know she wasn’t intimidated by me. Big mistake on her part. “Ma doesn’t mind.”
“I mind. She has a job, two of them in fact. And if you want to keep yours, I better not see or hear Martha doing any of your work. Got it?”
Evelyn opened her mouth to argue but Adrian put a hand to her shoulder. “Ma always pitches in but we’ll talk to her. It’s not like we have anything else to do around here anyway.” Despite their bitter words and nasty demeanor, both twins managed to slowly push their tits out in my direction while offering the best pout their lips could manage.
“Martha has plenty to do, and if you don’t have enough then maybe the job only requires one of you.” I hired them sight unseen because of Martha, but if they weren’t up for the job, I’d replace them. Hell with those shitty attitudes. It might make my life easier if they were gone.
“Whatever.” They spoke at the same time, crossing their arms at the same time with the identical defiant chin lift.
These girls thought they were tough, probably because Martha and everyone else let them get away with being total bitches. That changed now. “Get to work.”
Both of them turned on the heels of their red and turquoise cowboy boots and stomped off. With an extra swing in their hips. Of course.
A few minutes later Martha arrived back in the kitchen, all smiles. “I see you met my girls.”
“I did.” And they weren’t as impressive as she seemed to think. “Look Martha, I hired you mostly to look after Maisie, but if you’re going to do Adrian and Evelyn’s work I’ll need to reconsider.”
“Oh nonsense, I was just—”
“—Martha, stop. Maisie is what I care about most and that’s why I hired you. To look after and care for her when I can’t. How can you cook for a full ranch, take care of Maisie and do their housekeeping work?”
“It was just a little laundry, Gunnar.”
“Then explain to me exactly why I need them both to be here?” I may look like a dumb son of a bitch, but I wasn’t and I wouldn’t let these snot-nosed cowgirls try to get one over on me. “Either they do their jobs or I have to let them go, Martha.”
She wasn’t happy but she nodded her agreement. “Maybe I do spoil them too much, but things have been so hard since we lost Colby.” I’d heard all about her son who’d died fighting over in Afghanistan and how hard it had hit the Bennett women. “I just want the girls to have a purpose.”
That wasn’t any of my business. “I just want to make sure Maisie is looked after properly.”
“She will be Gunnar, don’t you worry.”
I gave a short nod and dug into the delicious food on the table. “Thanks and this food looks and tastes incredible, by the way.” If I ate like this every single day, I’d definitely have a spare tire by the end of the year.
“I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if you’d approve of a hearty Texas breakfast.”
“Well I do, Miss Martha. I damn sure do.” She smiled and busied herself helping Maisie avoid getting more of her breakfast on her shirt than in her mouth, the funniest and most challenging part of mealtime.
Once breakfast was over, it was time to get down to business. Ranch business. That meant I needed to get off my ass and go meet with my ranch manager.
“You meeting with Holden?” Miss Martha asked as she cleaned up.
“The very one,” I said. Holden Jennings was what people in these parts called a good ol’ southern boy, meaning he was born and bred in Texas. Add in a stint in the military and he was as Texas as they came.
“Take him a plate if you don’t mind,” she said.
I didn’t mind at all. I took the plate full of food and made my way outside into the bright early morning sun. The temperature hadn’t caught up with the sun’s impact on the day, but I knew it would. Shielding my eyes with my free hand, I stole a moment to look over the property. It was expansive as fuck and with the sun lighting up the sky in vibrant shades of orange and red and gold. It was beautiful and best of all, it was all mine.
But still, none of it felt like home.
“Morning, sir,” Holden said as he greeted me in on the front porch of the house. He was a beast of man, just six feet tall but he was imposing. Probably even intimidating to some with dark brown hair and eyes so dark they looked like two black marbles. But there was no anger or sadness coming from the loose-legged ranch manager, just a casual coolness that instantly put me at ease.
“Call me Gunnar,” I said and held out the plate and he took it and sat down on the top step.
“Thank you, Gunnar,” he said cracking a wide smile. He took a bite of biscuit and talked with his mouth full. “Last guy who owned this spread preferred to keep things formal. Kind of a dick if you ask me.”
He finished off his food in about thirty seconds flat and set the plate 0n the front porch and wiped his hands on his jeans before shaking my hand. “I prefer Holden,” he said in his thick Texas drawl. “Mr. Jennings makes me think of my old man.”
He raked a hand through thick hair that bounced right back into place before he covered it with a well-worn cowboy hat. “Wanna take a look around?”
I gave him a nod and followed him to the building closest to the main house. “Smells like horses.”
Holden flashed a smile over his shoulder. “This is where we keep ’em. Close to the main house and the bunkhouse, otherwise we’d spend most of our time walking to get to a horse to ride around the property.”
I held in a groan at the thought of mounting a fucking horse everyday. I could do it, I just wasn’t sure I wanted to. Or wanted Maisie up on one. “What about ATVs? Or bikes? You ride?”
Holden smiled again, looking like nothing ever phased him. “Yup. We got a few of those too, but we keep ’em in the barn up over that hill. Mostly for when we need to spend time on the other side of the property. It’s a hike.”
He had answers for everything. “Why in the hell is this stable blue?”
Holden burst out laughing, smacking his thigh with his hat. “That was the previous owner’s Missus. Thought red was too bright this close to the house. I think after a few days of looking at it, you might agree.”
I didn’t give a shit what color the stables or the barn were. The only thing I cared about was the structure being built on the other end of the property. The rest was just a distraction.
“What else?” If Holden was fazed by my tone, he didn’t let on, and I appreciated that. I didn’t have time for whiny ass workers. I needed men who could work and more importantly who wanted to work. In fact, I didn’t care at all about the business of the ranch. Not yet. When I’d bought the ranch, I didn’t give much thought to it since Holden had been more than willing to stay on in the same role. Now I wished I’d paid a bit more attention.
“You don’t have to worry about keeping things runnin’ on the ranch. I’ve been doing it for years and you can take a look at the weekly reports I gave the old owner, though I know he didn’t bother to look at ’em. He was more of the gentleman rancher type if you know what I mean.”
I knew exactly what he meant, but I also knew I wasn’t so different from the last guy. “I want the
ranch to be profitable, Holden, but I don’t want cows and horses to take up all of my time. If I have questions, I expect prompt answers, otherwise weekly reports are fine.”
“Sounds good. I have to get going on some of the chores for the day, but holler if you need anything, and we can set up a time to meet to go over the books whenever you want.”
I frowned. “You’re the bookkeeper too?”
“Not by choice or by trade, but by default.” His grin spread wide to show there were no hard feelings, but I knew the man had to be overworked.
“Let’s do the books sooner rather than later and maybe you can recommend a bookkeeper or accountant.” Keeping an eye on the books was another damn thing that needed to be done, and at the moment, the job fell in my lap. There wasn’t enough time in the day for me to handle all the shit that needed to be dealt with while looking into my own pet project. Never mind dealing with all the new personalities about to descend on the ranch.
“Sounds good, Boss. See ya ‘round.”
I waved off Holden, happy to see that so far, half of my staff was capable and trouble free. The rest of the guys would trickle in over the next few days. I’d been contacting them for weeks, others heard about my plan and reached out to me. All of them vets, some might call them wounded warriors. Oh, they were all sound in body, more than capable of handling the heavy work on the ranch and the entertainment complex I envisioned. But more than that, I was offering them a place to heal from their war wounds, the scars that didn’t show on the surface, the ones that lead to our unacceptable suicide rates and drug use that some had turned to cope with what they’d seen. While I was envisioning a second chance for everyone, I still needed workers and hoped they were more like Holden and Martha than the young twins because this was my sister’s future. Her chance at normal. And I would move heaven and hell to make sure she had it. And I would fucking blast through anyone who got between me and that goal.
***
I never thought I would be the kind of guy to sit on a porch and drink coffee while watching the sky change from dawn to morning, but here I was, just a few days in. Up before the damn sun, waiting impatiently for her to bathe the land, my land, in splashes of color and light. But nature was just what I needed. I wasn’t sure if moving to Texas had been a stroke of genius or the worst goddamn decision I’d ever made.
Only time would tell. I had to move forward, one step at a time until everything was finished. Even though I felt I owed her nothing, I had promised my mother I’d care for her baby. And the minute I held Maisie in my arms I knew I’d do whatever she asked. Even if it was the biggest ask in the fucking world.
“Look after Maisie. Give her the life I was too fucked up to give you. Please.”
I wanted to hate her for putting that on me, for transforming my life without a thought of what it meant for me. It would’ve been pointless anyway. My mother was dying back then. She’d never given a single damn thought to anything besides indulging in booze, drugs and the wrong types of men. Losers. All my life. Just like the old man I never knew. Maisie’s dad was some dealer or john Mom used to get high with one more time.
One last time.
No point thinking about that, I reasoned, tossing the rest of my cold coffee over the railing. I walked into the kitchen briefly to refill my mug and stepped outside again, going over my plans for Hardtail Ranch. It had a name but still no purpose. Yet.
On the long drive down to Texas, thinking about what I’d left behind, my brothers, the Reckless Bastards, I got the idea for another group of men to be what they’d been for me. Every Reckless Bastard had served his country with honor, an honor that left each of us bitter and scarred and wary of things like “the greater good.” But the club had saved my life and given me direction. A family. It had saved each and every one of us and maybe Hardtail Ranch could be that as well.
A welcoming place for veterans who felt displaced, out of sorts and unsure how to readjust to civilian life. It might be through working with Holden on the ranch side of the business or maybe it’d be at the club. Maybe it’d be something else altogether, but Hardtail Ranch could be our clubhouse. Our home. Our own MC.
“Shit,” I said to the rising sun. That was a big vision. It required more than a just a dream. I had to push it down the list for now because first the ranch had to get some cash rolling in and then maybe, Reckless Bastards MC, Opey, Texas Chapter could become a reality.
I let out a long breath at that thought. It was a big mistake. Hell, I’d left Mayhem to keep Maisie safe, but here I was, thinking about another chapter. But bikes were a part of me. In my blood. My DNA. And yet, I scoffed at the thought. What was I thinking, bringing an MC down to Texas? I knew with more certainty than I knew anything else that Hardtail Ranch would be a home for Maisie and me. Filled with family and good times.
I finished my coffee before it got cold and went back inside to get a baseball cap because the Texas sun was no damn joke. I had a long ride to get to the other side of the property. Holden had promised to prioritize repairs on at least one of the ATVs so I could stop playing cowboy on a damn horse.
When I walked into the barn and spotted her, I had to stop for a look. She was a beauty though, a black and white painted horse that was only nice when she wanted food or a cuddle. Other times she was a snob and that was fine, Sassy got me where I needed to go, and I made sure someone cleaned her and cooled her down when I was done. It was the perfect relationship.
When I finally set eyes on my pride and fucking joy, the future home of my adult entertainment club. At least the bones of it for now. I felt my first genuine smile about up and moving to Opey. The foundation was poured and the frame was up but I expected more progress by now. Mostly I envisioned making money from memberships, but I’d welcome the drop in visitors as well. It would be first class all the way, if the assholes I’d hired ever got to work getting the damn thing built.
“Goddammit,” I muttered as I looked around for a warm body.
Inside I found exactly who I was looking for. Joplin Saint. The ex-Marine I’d hired to manage The Barn Door, the most exclusive adult playground in all of Texas. It would be members only. A fancy-schmancy place where grown up folks would come to play when they wanted to play dirty. And it was far enough away from the house, Maisie wouldn’t be affected. Except for all the money it would bring in.
“Gunnar, right?” He looked right at me but his gaze somehow managed to miss mine completely and my suspicion rose.
“Yeah. Joplin?”
He nodded and accepted my hand in a good, strong handshake. For a Marine. “Yes, sir, but everybody calls me Saint.” Again, his posture was straight enough to impress any drill sergeant, but his eyes still wouldn’t meet mine.
“Saint, why the fuck does my club have no walls?”
The guy recoiled when I asked and took a step back to stroke his overgrown beard. “The foreman broke his leg and the crew came for two days but they didn’t get shit done and then they brought a twelve-pack on the second day. I told them if that’s how they worked then stay the fuck away until their foreman was here. I’ve already sent the vendor a chargeback for the damage they did those two days.”
He might have been a little pussy, but it looked like Saint wasn’t a man to fuck with. “Good job. Great. Thanks.” I looked around and could see The Barn Door come to my life before my eyes. There was no red carpet and no leather benches with brass accents yet, but I could see it all. So clearly.
“If the foreman can’t make it back before the week is up, tell the contractor we need someone else or the contract is void.”
“Will do, sir.”
I froze at what would become the black leather entrance to the club, complete with black and red lights that trained the eye right on the stage where guests were welcome to perform any sensual acts they desired. Alone, together or even in a group. All kinks were welcome. “Saint, we’re not in the military anymore. Call me Gunnar. I might even answer to Boss.”
A faint
smile touched his lips and he nodded. “Copy that, Boss.”
I didn’t know his story, but I had a feeling that despite first impressions, Joplin Saint might end up becoming family.
Either that or moving to Texas had turned me into a weak-assed pussy in need of a good ass whooping.
Chapter Four
Peaches
I sat inside one of the private event rooms inside Honky Tonk Sushi, a country & western themed sushi bar, waiting for my best friend Vivi to show up. She was already ten minutes late, which was unlike her. I began to worry. If she didn’t show up in two and a half minutes, I’d get the fuck out of Vegas to make sure my shit stayed as far away from her as possible.
It was unnerving listening to old ass country songs with a Japanese flair inside a room that was equal parts samurai dungeon and barn, with katana swords on the brick walls, hay on the ground and chopsticks with state flags waving from the tops.
It felt like a normal Wednesday afternoon, best friends meeting up to enjoy a long lunch complete with sake and sushi, but it wasn’t. Even the steaming hot miso soup in front of me could do nothing to quell the nausea in my gut or the worry that prickled at the goosebumps on my skin. Somehow I’d made it from the east coast to Nevada in one piece, but it had been the most stressful three and a half days of my life.
Thousands of miles, a beat up old Cadillac from the early nineties and a lot of night driving left me exhausted, half-blind and delirious, but at least I was here and I was safe. Hopefully, Vivi would have a hideout for me.
With less than thirty seconds to spare Vivi breezed into the room with shoulder length hot pink hair with platinum blonde bangs. And a big ass diamond on her finger.
“Please tell me you guys did a jewelry heist for your honeymoon because that is one giant glacier you’re lugging around.”
