Chapter 42 Honey
HONEY
I slam the brakes to park in front of our ranch. Pebbles fly out from under my tires.
Calm down, Honey. Everything will be okay. Cash will know what to do.
My dad is out of town again, probably shacking up with his girlfriend. I shake my head in disgust as I head in the house. “Anyone home?”
I head for the main office, which is the hub of our business. We have other staff, so I don’t like to interrupt them, but this is an emergency. I poke my head in there and wave. “Has anyone seen Cash or Trig?”
My father’s secretary nods. “I think they’re checking the calves in lot six.”
“Thank you.” I make a beeline for the barn. It’ll be easier to ride there than to drive. After I saddle Sunshine, I tie my hair into a ponytail, button my jacket, and head out.
As we gallop across the hills and valleys of my family’s property, I try to breathe. I know I’ve been blessed. I’ve lived a charmed life. Looking around at our animals, at the buildings we’ve built, at the investments we’ve made, I’m terrified we’re going to lose it all.
I’m not sure if Ian is fucking with me. If he’s manipulating me to get what he wants. It’s possible.
But if he’s not? Can I give this up? A part of me is willing to do it to be with Beau, but what about my brothers? What about my niece? Because we’re talking about their future too.
I spot Cash and Trig on the horizon and tighten my heels on Sunshine briefly, and she kicks into high gear.
Usually, when I ride, it’s exhilarating. The power of the horse. The strength in her muscles. The wind through my hair. It’s enough to forget my worries. It’s a moment to be grateful for what I have. For being alive and being a rancher.
It’s why the Harvester Club is so dear to me.
And now both of these things are on the line.
When I reach my brothers, I pull the reins, and Sunshine stops, snorting her annoyance that we can’t continue galloping across the field.
Trig’s face is sullen, but Cash seems happy to see me. He lifts his cowboy hat to wipe the sweat and ambles over as I slide off my horse.
“Hey.” He lifts me in a hug. “Glad to see you in one piece. I was afraid Dad had shipped you off to a nunnery.”
“Har har.” I brush my hair out of my face. Ignoring Trig’s sour expression, I wrap my arms around him. “Hello to you too.”
Reluctantly, he pats my back. “Hey, brat. Causing more trouble?”
Relief sweeps through me that he’s not giving me the cold shoulder anymore. When he didn’t respond to my texts this week, I was afraid I’d really screwed up our relationship. Trig is moody, but he’s always been there for me. “We need to have a family meeting.”
Trig’s brows lift. “Without the parentals? I’m not sure I’m qualified to partake.”
“Shut up. We don’t need Mom and Dad to have a family meeting.” I shove him, and he finally smiles. “Glad to see you’re talking to me again.”
“Well, you didn’t bring Fuckface with you, so…”
My expression flattens. “You cannot call Beau Fuckface. What’s wrong with you? Did Mom drop you on your head when you were little?”
Cash chuckles and pulls me into a headlock. “Can we call him Dick Cheese?”
I sock him in the gut, and he lets go of me with an oof. “I’m going to puke on your boots. You’re disgusting.”
He chuckles, and I reluctantly laugh. Cash hangs his hands on his hips as he glances at the field. “I guess Beau’s okay. As long as I don’t find y’all naked and canoodling again, I can deal.”
Trig’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck? When did this happen?”
I poke his shoulder. “It’s not important. What matters is that I love him. I’m going to date him whether you like him or not.”
“Jesus, don’t say that. Don’t say you love him.”
Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell, “I LOVE BEAU WALKER.” I just haven’t told him yet. I swallow at the sudden ball of nervousness that coils in my stomach. Does he love me too? Is he willing to put up with my insane family? Or will they drive him away?
Trig tucks his work gloves in his back pocket and scrubs his face. “You’re supposed to be ten and wearing braces. I’m not ready for you to run off with some asshole.”
Aww. I love my protective older brother. I hug him. “I love you too. And I don’t want to run off anywhere. But can I be honest? Beau treats me a hell of a lot better than Ian Fairchild does.”
Trig and Cash look at each other. Then turn to me. Trig crosses his arms. “What did Fairchild do?” There’s an edge to his voice.
“Calm down.” I won’t mention the bruise Ian gave me or Trig will lose it. “He hasn’t done anything, except tell me I have to marry him or he’s going to call in Dad’s loans and ruin us. Which is why I came straight here. Is this true? Do we owe the Fairchilds money?”
Cash frowns. “Not that I know of, but Dad handles the finances.”
I nod. Cash handles the day-to-day operations, but my father does the investments and deals with the money. “Have you ever heard him mention loans to Ian’s family? Or debt?”
“We took out a big loan a few years ago to upgrade all of our equipment, but that should’ve been paid off by now.”
That’s encouraging. “Does Dad use Ian’s plane? Because that’s something else he mentioned to prove that we’re beholden to him somehow.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly, “but that doesn’t mean we owe him our goddamn ranch.”
I explain what Ian told me this morning, that marrying me will give him a third of the ranch and the chance to buy out my brothers. Trig’s nostrils flare. “That son of a bitch. Ian Fairchild can suck my dick.”
“That’s graphic, but thank you for the support.”
“Do you know where he’s at? Because I’ll go over there right now and kick his ass.”
“Calm down, Wolverine. No one needs to die.” I cross my arms to stay warm.
“Dad already rescinded the donation to the high school for the Harvester Club, and now Ian’s showing up at my house uninvited with threats.
I have until the first of the month to decide.
What do I do? I won’t marry a man I don’t love, but what if he’s right? What if Dad’s fucked us over?”
I thought things were bad when my father said I had to get married by my birthday if I wanted my trust fund. But Ian’s demands have hit a whole new level of crazy. How did my life get so screwed up?
Cash shakes his head. “Let me see what I can dig up tonight. I’ll wait until everyone in the office leaves, and I’ll pull up our financials.
” He grabs my shoulders. “No one is gonna make you marry someone you don’t want to.
Plus, I’m pretty sure Walker will lose his shit if Fairchild carts you off like a pack mule. ”
“Aside from not wanting to marry Ian, I get the feeling he doesn’t want to live in town. I want to stay here. I want to teach and raise a family in Wild Heart so my kids get to know their uncles.”
And I want to ranch. Maybe that’s too much for my father, but Beau welcomes my help. Ranching is in my blood, and I don’t think I should have to give that up because it doesn’t match with my father’s impression of what a lady should be.
Trig dramatically wipes his eyes. “Stop or I’m gonna cry.” I shove Trig, and he grins. “This doesn’t mean I’ve made peace with Beau. I’m still chewin’ on you being in love with that asshole. But I’m not gonna let some little bitch fly into town and swoop off with my baby sister.”
“Thank you. I don’t want to swoop off either.” I frown at him. “Frankly, you deserve an ass whooping for pointing a shotgun at Beau. I haven’t forgiven you for that.”
He glances down and kicks the dirt. “I can admit I let my temper get the best of me.”
“Gee, you think?”
“I’m sorry, Honeybee,” he says, looking genuinely remorseful. “You know I never would’ve shot him with you standing there, right?”
I rest my hands on my hips. “Look, you can hash out your disagreements with the Walkers anytime. Just leave the weapons at home, okay? Use your head and not your fists.”
He shrugs. “Fine. But my offer to kick Fairchild’s ass still stands. Just say the word.”
Cash puts Trig in a headlock. “That’s the biggest apology I’ve ever heard you mutter.”
“Shut up.” Trig shoves Cash off him with a laugh. But then his expression grows serious. “If old Vernon sold us out, what are we gonna do?”
Cash crosses his arms. “Let’s focus on one problem at a time, starting with Ian fucking Fairchild.”
I nod, relieved to have my brothers on my side. “That’s a good plan.” I hold out my hand and look at Trig and Cash, who chuckle and rest their dirty hands over mine.
It’s a tradition, something we always do before a ranch rodeo. The chants vary. But today, I think of something special. “‘Fuck you, Ian,’ on three. One, two, three.”
“Fuck you, Ian!” we all shout, startling the cows.
Now I just have to pray Ian Fairchild’s full of shit and that we don’t owe him a fortune.