Chapter 5 #2
My brother sighs. “You know Trig. Always looking for a fight.”
“So he started it?”
Cash looks away. “Wouldn’t say that. You know the Walkers are assholes.” He turns to me as his eyes harden. “Or at least you should. Not sure how I feel about you hanging out with their girlfriends and wives.”
I’ve been waiting for him to say something ever since he saw me chatting with them at the Rattlesnake Ridge Ranch Rodeo last spring. “I was friends with Baylee and Paige before they got together with Rhett and Maverick.” Sort of.
He sighs again. “You’re just making trouble for yourself.”
“Here’s an idea. If you mind your own beeswax, then it’ll be my problem, not yours.”
Grabbing me in a headlock, he sticks his finger in my ear. “Stay out of trouble, Honeybee. Don’t want my baby sister mixed up in anything.”
“I can take care of myself.” With a laugh, I shove him away. “Wish me luck tonight. Will you be joining us for dinner?”
“Can’t. Need to check on some calves. Text me later and let me know how it goes. Dad’s been all piss and vinegar lately.”
“I wonder what’s wrong. He never tells me anything.”
Cash looks away. “It’s probably better that way.”
A pit forms in my stomach as I watch my brother walk away. Why do all the men in this family treat me like I can’t handle anything?
A few minutes later, I head to the house. It’s a three-story, newly renovated McMansion that’s sadly missing the charm it used to have before my father updated it a few years ago. It’s beautiful in an Architectural Digest kind of way, but it feels more like a showroom than a home.
I unlock the front door with my key. “Hey. I’m home,” I call out into the spacious foyer.
“In here, Honey,” my mom yells from the kitchen. I find her and my great-aunt June sitting at the counter, but there’s no dinner. My stomach rumbles in protest. I should’ve eaten before I came over.
I lean over to kiss my mother’s cheek. Her highlighted blonde hair falls around her shoulders. She’s wearing a designer white pantsuit and leather pumps. Although she’s perfectly coiffed as usual, I can’t help but feel something’s off. “Are you okay?” I ask hesitantly.
She waves a manicured hand. “Of course. It’s just my allergies. My eyes are puffy.”
I study her lovely face. “You don’t look puffy, Mom. I swear. You always look beautiful.”
She gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks, baby. And I’m sorry I don’t have dinner for you. Your father changed his mind at the last minute. You know how he gets. But I made you a sandwich. It’s in the fridge.”
“Thanks. That was sweet of you.” I lean over to hug Aunt June.
“Hi, darling.” She pats my hand. She’s wearing one of her signature shawls she crocheted herself.
Aunt June is my favorite person in the family.
With her little white-blonde curls and quirky personality, she’s always reminded me of the elderly piano student in Wedding Singer.
“I made some of those cookies you like with chocolate in the middle.”
She hands me a platter, and I struggle not to laugh. “I love your peanut butter blossoms, Aunt June. I’ll eat them all.” I don’t mention they look like giant nipples. She recently discovered Pinterest and likes to try to make the same dishes, but her food always turns out looking perverted somehow.
My mom motions down the hall. “Your father’s waiting for you.”
“What does he want to talk about?”
She shrugs. “He doesn’t tell me anything.”
I could not handle a marriage like that. My poor mom. She always looks so discouraged. I hug her again.
When I enter my father’s study, I smell his Cuban cigar before I spot him behind his executive desk.
I scoot past his giant leather couch and white stone fireplace.
He calls this part of his office the “lounge.” It’s where he and his CEO friends congregate to drink bourbon and talk about cattle prices.
Beyond that are two tufted, leather, high-back chairs that are placed in front of his desk.
To the right of him is his fully-stocked bar, and behind him are his built-in bookshelves where he houses his prized Cattleman of the Year awards.
He cracks a smile when he sees me. “How’s my girl?” My father’s a tall man with a white, neatly-manicured mustache and piercing blue eyes.
“Good, Dad.” I round the desk to hug him. How long has it been since I’ve been home? Two weeks? Because he seems thinner. “Are you feeling okay? How’s your blood pressure?” I’m sure his love of cigars and whiskey hasn’t helped.
“Fine, fine.” He motions to the chair, and I sit.
I hate asking my father for anything, but this isn’t for me. “Have you thought more about purchasing Quaid Turner’s old farm for my club? It’ll help a lot of kids, especially those who live in apartments but want to participate. Did you read my proposal?”
“Haven’t had a chance, but I’ll get to it.”
“Thanks.” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
My father makes massive donations to projects that interest him.
It stings that he doesn’t care about the Harvester Club when it was such a huge part of my life in high school.
But if I’m being honest with myself, he likely doesn’t remember that. He’s always traveled a lot.
He taps the desk. “Listen, we need to talk.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. God, I hope this isn’t about Beau. Would Trig have told our father they fought? For all I know, Dad and Trig haven’t seen each other since Dad’s rarely home these days. And Trig doesn’t like confiding in our father any more than I do. The thought makes me relax.
“I’m revising my estate, and I’d like to discuss the new terms of your trust fund.”
Not this again. The last time we discussed his “new terms,” he made me change my major from agriculture to education.
He also insisted I attend Lone Star State instead of UT in Austin because he didn’t want me living in a big city.
Even though I ended up loving Lone Star, I don’t like being told what to do.
I brace myself for whatever he’s going to say.
He steeples his hands on the desk. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been put in danger, twice, at your job.”
Frowning, I purse my lips. “What are you talking about?”
“The rattler in your office and the fire in the bathroom a few doors down from your classroom.”
“How do you know about that?”
“This is a small town, Honey. Everyone talks. Plus, as boosters, we get a copy of the school newspaper.”
“Why are you still boosters? I thought that ended when I graduated.”
He looks at me like I’m dumb. “As one of the founding families of Wild Heart, we have a responsibility to support our town.”
“So… you want VIP seating at our football games.” Our team is great, so I’m not surprised.
“Don’t sass me.”
I hold up my hands. “I’m not trying to give you attitude, Dad.
I’m just confused. Those two incidents you noted are the only weird things that have happened there since I started working at the high school two years ago.
Statistically speaking, that’s pretty good.
The most dangerous thing about my job is the cafeteria food.
The tuna casserole is not fit for human consumption. ”
“Regardless, we need to talk about your future. Assuming you want your trust fund, we need a plan.”
I bite back my irritation and force myself to stay calm. “Dad, I have a plan. I’m going to teach, shape young minds, get a pension, and retire someday. What’s wrong with that?”
He runs his thumb down one side of his white mustache as he stares at me. “It’s not befitting a member of the McAllister family.”
My throat tightens. I knew my father didn’t respect what I do, but it hurts to hear it out loud. “When I went to college, you said as long as I graduated and got a job, you’d support me.”
“And I did. Who paid for your car? Your clothes? Your education? Your damn hair appointments? Who still pays your credit card? Now it’s time to return the favor.”
I jerk back at the anger in his voice. He makes me sound like a dumb Barbie doll.
My parents taught me to care about my appearance.
If he didn’t think I should get highlights, he should have said something.
“If I had majored in agriculture like I wanted to, I would’ve gotten a scholarship, remember?
You’re the one who insisted I do something more traditional.
” While I enjoy teaching, it wasn’t my first choice.
I curl my nails into my palms until they bite into my skin.
He makes it sound like I’m a freeloader.
I pay all of my own bills now. The only time I charged anything on his credit card since I graduated from college was some work my SUV needed when the brakes got shoddy. “What… what do you want?”
“I’d like to introduce you to a friend. Ian Fairchild’s family owns the Diamondback Ranch. He stands to inherit a fortune in cattle and land in Eastern Texas. If you marry him, they’ll give us oil rights to their property. Could make us millions.”
I knew my father was a hardcore businessman, but I didn’t realize he was a heartless bastard. “What you’re saying is you want to use me as a pawn in building your empire.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Go on a few dates with him. Let him wine and dine you. We can talk afterward and go from there.” He points to our property behind us. “This is how empires are built, Honey. What do you want for your future children? A teacher’s pension or one of the largest ranches in Texas?”
I don’t have words.
His lips twitch. “Think of it this way. You go on a few dates with Ian, and I’ll look at your proposal. Just think of all the good you’ll be doing for your students.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
He turns to his computer screen, essentially dismissing me, and I sit there trying to process what he just said. It takes a minute to realize he left out something important. “What about your estate? You said you’re updating it.”
Sighing, he reaches for his gross cigar. “If you want your trust fund, you’ll need to marry by the time you’re twenty-six.”
A cold sweat breaks out on my skin. “You mean in six months?”
After he snips off the end of his cigar, he leans back in his chair with a smile like he isn’t blowing up my life. “Then isn’t it fortuitous I’m introducing you to Ian?”