Chapter Eight
T he slow-cooker lasagna was every bit as good as promised. The evening passed with that sort of big-family dinner feeling Cooper had always imagined but had never personally had. The Hardesty siblings spent half the time teasing each other and the other half laughing, with Will and Izzy right in the mix.
Cooper kept his eye on Shay across the table, without being too obvious about it, thinking about today on the mountain. How it had ended and what exactly that meant.
He could still feel the softness of her lips on his and the curl in his gut when she’d wrapped her arms around him. All of that couldn’t have been simple curiosity. Because the heat in that kiss had knocked him sideways. He couldn’t seem to let it go. Once or twice, Shay’s gaze flicked in his direction and caught him looking.
So, she knew he wanted her. He wished he could get her alone again, to talk about what was happening between them. But Shay Hardesty had a wall around her built of brick and mortar. Maybe she’d never allow herself to love again after Summer Boy had done his best to break her heart. She’d either convinced herself that A —she didn’t deserve happiness or a relationship that might bring her that or B —happiness would have to wait until her only child was grown and gone.
There was a C option as well, and it had to do with him being an acceptable possibility.
Acceptable, in terms of his history, he supposed. That he’d just have to deal with. That, he wanted to deal with. Because whatever she thought, he had no intention of bringing any trouble to the Hard Eight or to her. He’d been half in love with Shay Hardesty for most of his life. He had this one last chance with her.
As the group polished off the cherry dump cake Sarah had baked up for dessert, Cooper pondered exactly how he was going to break through that wall of Shay’s. Which was when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.
One look at the caller ID and he excused himself from the table and walked outside.
“It’s good news,” Trey Reyes said on the other end of the line. “Your father’s partner, Evan Clulagher, it turns out, is a dead man walking.”
“Meaning?”
“You called it. These past eight years, he’s been living the high life in the Bahamas under an assumed identity. My hacker was able to track that money from your father’s business account to a bank in the Caymans, which exited that account some two days later to another LLC account in the Bahamas.”
Cooper’s head started swimming. For a moment he was speechless. “Wait. You found him?”
“Sort of. Not exactly. He was there, moving around a bit over the years, but staying in the Caribbean. Once my guy learned his assumed name, thanks to a contact he has down there who was able to access that account, I flew down there to track the guy down. Seems like he really enjoyed all that money he stole. He wasn’t very wise about spending it. Eight years later, he’s gone through almost all of it. He’s left behind a bunch of bad debts there. Two weeks ago, he flew back to the US under that assumed name. He landed in San Francisco, then promptly disappeared again.”
“Under that assumed name…” Cooper paced under the big tree in front of the house. From somewhere above him, an owl hooted at him, and a chill ran under his skin. “But why would he risk coming back to the US? He’s been declared dead here. Getting caught here alive would surely have consequences.”
“Consequences that could clear your father’s name,” Trey said.
The moment of buoyant hope quickly deflated. “If he was able to invent a new identity once, he’ll do it again. He could go anywhere. We’ll never find him.”
“Don’t lose hope. There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“My friend uncovered some curious cash withdrawals from Clulagher’s account in the year before his disappearance. Those cash withdrawals interestingly did not correspond with deposits in the Caymans. In other words, that particular money came out but never went back in. It never flowed through any of your father’s accounts. It was separate.”
“I don’t follow.”
“The withdrawals were significant amounts and fairly regular. Like payments. But nobody pays bills in cash. They could have been gambling money, but he apparently wasn’t that careless until he thought he’d gotten away with it. My theory? Someone was onto his rustling scheme and was blackmailing him.”
“Blackmailing? Who?”
“Don’t know yet. And it’s just a theory. But if the cops were suspicious of those withdrawals, the man known as Evan Clulagher died before they could either prove or disprove that they went directly to your father.”
“My father? It wasn’t him. He knew nothing about this scheme before he was arrested.”
A long silence stretched on the other end of the line.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Cooper said.
“I do, actually,” Trey said. “But it doesn’t matter what I believe. It only matters what I can prove.”
Cooper switched his cell to his other ear. “Wait, but do we really need him to prove that my father wasn’t on those initial accounts? Won’t that clear him now that we’ve uncovered these records? Surely once we can prove that his partner is alive and operating under—”
“In a perfect world, that would be enough. Unfortunately, the evidence against your dad was quite effective, and that money did pass through his business accounts. Unless we can prove that his partner framed him, made those deposits himself, Ray is still implicated. Whether they ultimately catch his partner or not. To the prosecutors, the fact that his partner scammed everyone is simply not enough to prove his innocence. We need the man himself.”
Cooper dropped down onto the stone retaining wall that surrounded the front garden. “Then we have to find him.”
“I am working on that, my friend,” Trey told him. “Don’t lose heart.”
*
His father’s reaction to the news, wasn’t what Cooper expected. Not anger, not even surprise. Instead, his father’s response was a long-distance stare out to the field of horses beyond their kitchen window.
“What am I missing?” Cooper asked him after a long moment. “This is good news, isn’t it? It means that maybe we can finally clear your name.”
“Not that simple. The good news,” his father replied, “has less to do with me and my case, and more that Evan blew the fortune he embezzled and is a hunted man again. Maybe this time, he’ll get caught before he can disappear again.”
“You always knew he was alive.” Cooper sat down at the table beside his dad.
“Not for sure. But I suspected it. Disappearing had to have been his plan from the start. But the sheriff was too invested in me to get sidetracked by it. Anyone who could pull off what he did with the rustling, the money laundering, and keeping his two partners in crime silent could make himself disappear without a trace.”
Indeed, the two men who had enabled Evan’s operation had also implicated Ray instead of Evan in the investigation leading up to trial once they’d been found to have taken part in the cattle rustling operation. No doubt they’d been well paid for their silence. One man would skim the head count of cattle getting loaded onto the trucks, the other would do the same at the other end of the ride after off-loading a percentage of cattle before arrival onto a different truck. Often, before the GPS ear tagging came into full use, the ranchers, moving cattle from one range to another, were none the wiser until much later as their own head counts during the shipping process were more estimates than accurate counts. Each prime steer was worth thousands of dollars on the beef market. All of it made Evan Clulagher a very rich man.
“Oh, he left a trace. We found it. Took some digital digging, but he left a trail of bad dealings behind him. But if we can find him, we can bring him to justice. Trey thinks Evan was being blackmailed. If we can find out who was—”
“That’s a dead end,” Ray said firmly. “Leave it alone.”
“Why? What makes you say that?”
Ray stood and walked to the sink where the window overlooked the Hardesty home and land. “Just let it go, Cooper. I have. You need to, as well.”
“Just when we finally have a lead? If someone knew what he was doing, was blackmailing him, then maybe we can find them. Force them to talk. To clear your name. It couldn’t have been Dumb and Dumber, the two who went to prison for him. They were in on it while those payments were being made. No doubt they had more waiting for them on their release.”
Ray shook his head. “It wasn’t them.”
Cooper angled a look at him. “You know who it was?”
“No. How could I?” Ray’s hands were shaking as he reached for a glass of water and filled in in the tap. He took a long drink and turned back to Cooper. The fire in the electric fireplace flickered in the dim light of evening, drawing lines of stress across Ray’s face. “I’m thinking it’s time to go back home.”
“What? Don’t try to change the subject here.”
“I’ve burdened them enough. You can stay. I’ll be fine.”
“You-you don’t even have a car, Dad. And why are you pushing to let this whole thing go? Is it someone you’re... protecting?” Cooper himself was the only person Ray Lane had ever protected since his mother’s death. The only other person he could think of for Ray to feel protective of eight years ago was—
“Is it... Sarah Hardesty?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ray snapped. “Sarah had nothing to do with any of this. Or her children either.”
“Okay. Okay. Easy. I don’t want to fight.”
Ray reached out and touched Cooper’s shoulder. “Eight years ago, if I could have gotten my hands on Evan, I might have killed him for what he did to me. But all that’s behind me now. It’s done. What I learned inside, more than anything, is what anger can do to you, to your soul. Anger is a hunger that’s never satisfied. So, it eats you from the inside out. So, no, I’m not looking for revenge anymore. I’m looking for peace now. That’s all.”
Cooper didn’t understand his father. His refusal to tell him the whole truth about what he knew. But he said, “Okay. But you’re staying here. With me. Nobody’s a burden. You understand? So, no argument. Clear?”
Ray set his jaw. “We’ll see.”
*
Cooper spent most of the next day working with the new horses, then supervising Ryan as he introduced Kholá to a bit of his weight—on and off the saddle she was finally getting used to. Cooper was grateful that the horses they’d brought to the ranch weren’t too traumatized to learn quickly. They all seemed to accept human contact and were, for the most part, interested in what he had to teach them.
Kholá, in particular, was a quick study, and Cooper had to admire the bond she’d formed with Ryan. Getting her to take a bit took a few tries, but Ryan instinctively laid off the reins while handling her in the ring. They were just there for her to get used to them, nothing more. Same with the feel of Ryan’s weight on her back after showing her for days that she had nothing to fear of his touch by using a long-handled crop to stroke her back gently.
All in all, Shay’s son had made amazing progress with his filly, and it wouldn’t be long before she could be ridden.
Later that night, after eating the dinner his father had surprised him with, he’d stepped outside for some air. Late September in Montana always held the threat of early snow, but tonight was almost balmy, still holding onto the last breath of the summer. The moon was a mere sliver in the pitchy night sky, leaving a wash of stars scattered across the sky like pin pricks of light.
The air was crisp and sweet. It held the fragrance of horses, the mountains, and the long grasses that grew everywhere. He reached out to stroke Kholá’s nose as she wandered over to the rail to visit him.
That kiss with Shay was still on his mind. They hadn’t spoken about it yet. Maybe they never would. Maybe her curiosity was satisfied and that was the end of it. But his wasn’t. His was only piqued. He wasn’t mistaken that she’d kissed him back. That she’d responded in kind. What he couldn’t decide was how to proceed with her. She was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe he never would. Maybe this whole idea of coming home to Marietta had been a mistake. Maybe Thomas Wolfe was right. Maybe you can never go home again.
“Deep thoughts?” came a voice from behind him, surprising him. He turned to find Shay walking toward the corral. She had a fleecy Pendleton throw wrapped around her shoulders.
His heartbeat picked up at the sight of her, with the starlight skimming over the curve of her cheek. “No. Probably pretty shallow, if I’m honest. What are you doing out here? It’s late.”
“I was just sitting over there, watching the stars. You didn’t see me.”
He looked up, scanning the night sky. “Pretty night.”
“Mmm.” She joined him at the fence. They didn’t talk for a long minute, both lost in their own thoughts. Then they both spoke at once.
“I was—”
“Did you—” he said, stumbling over how to begin. They both smiled.
“God, we’re awkward,” she told him.
“That’s... accurate.”
“It’s because of that kiss. Up on the mountain.”
He nodded. “Yeah. About that. I don’t want you to think—”
“I don’t,” she said. “Actually, I’m not sure what to think.” She reached for Kholá and scratched her under her chin. “I... liked it. I know I said it was just—”
“You don’t need to explain.”
“No, here’s the thing.” She turned to him then, her hand close to his on the rail. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since then. I—”
He pulled her to him then, covered her mouth with his, putting an end to all of that. She melted into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting the blanket puddle to the ground. He couldn’t get close enough to her. Couldn’t kiss her deep enough. She tasted sweet—of mint and the cool night air. With his fingers against her scalp, he pulled her closer still, the fragrance of soap and fresh peaches intoxicating him. As she shifted her mouth against his with a hungry sound, the space between them ignited like a lit match. With her soft breasts pressed against his chest, he imagined that she could feel every part of him, too. All the parts that wanted her, needed her, longed for her.
But he knew where this was headed as he lost himself in that kiss. He forced himself to cool it down by pulling back. Both of them, breathing hard, found it impossible to separate then and just stood for a long, long minute gathering themselves, foreheads touching.
Shay swallowed hard. “Wow,” she breathed finally. “That was—”
“ Something. ”
“Yeah.”
He brushed the hair from her eyes with one finger, then pressed his lips against her forehead.
Eyes closed, she exhaled. “I’m a little out of practice. With kissing and such.”
He brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth, that place where her lips took a cute little natural turn upward. “I don’t want to push you.”
“I’m a big girl. Nobody pushes me into anything.”
His chest tightened. “I know.”
She laid her cheek on his chest again and let him hold her. Just hold her. It felt good standing under that sliver of a moon, just the two of them, alone in the dark.
“I’ve been alone a long time, Cooper.”
“I know. It’s okay. We can take things slow.”
She nodded against his chest. He felt her relax a little. “It’s complicated, is all...”
“By what? Me? My history?”
She shook her head. “Yes. And no. Mostly, it’s me and my history. I... don’t trust easily.”
“I know.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?” he asked gently.
“That I never got over Ethan and what happened with Ryan. But it’s not that exactly. I really did let that go a long time ago. I can’t even blame my father anymore, now that he’s gone, though I did for years.”
“Blame him for what?”
“It’s not important anymore. He was who he was. And I am... trying to be more like Izzy. Open to possibility. Open to trusting someone.”
“Me?”
She nodded against his chest. “And my son... he likes you. See? Complicated.”
He knew what she was asking. “We keep this between us.” This ...this new thing exploding inside him. “For now.”
“Right. Thank you,” she whispered, pulling away to stand beside him without touching him. She scratched Kholá again who was nosing between them with curiosity. Shay laughed. “Okay, you’re included in the secret circle, Kholá.”
The horse blew a breath out against her hand.
He wasn’t ready to let her go just yet, and she seemed reluctant to move, too, even though he half-expected her to bolt toward the house.
Instead, she stared up at the sky above them. “See that constellation up there? The one shaped like a house with a roof?”
“Where?” he asked.
She moved her face close to his and pointed. “There. That’s Cepheus. Right next to Cassiopeia. There.”
“Ah. Okay. I see it.” He inhaled the scent of her again as her cheek briefly brushed his as she pointed out the stars. “Cepheus?”
“Named by the Greeks. You know. They had stories for all the stars.”
“I’m not exactly up on my Greek mythology. What’s Cepheus’s story?”
“Since you asked,” she said, grinning. “There is a myth about those two. The story goes that Cepheus and Cassiopeia were married—a king and queen. They had a daughter Andromeda.”
“I’m intrigued, and I’ve heard of that one,” he admitted. “Go on.”
“So apparently, Cassiopeia, the king’s wife, thought she was all that. Sort of inadvertently, insulted the sea god, Poseidon, by claiming she was more beautiful than all the sea nymphs, of which his wife happened to be one. Which got Cepheus in big trouble with Poseidon, who sent a giant sea monster to avenge his wife and destroy Cepheus’s kingdom. An oracle told Cepheus the only way to prevent complete disaster to his kingdom was to sacrifice his only child, Andromeda. Which they did. Horrible. They left her chained to some rock in the sea to await the tide. But before she could drown, she was saved by Perseus, who heroically rescued Andromeda. Then he defeated the big, bad sea monster and got to marry the princess.”
“The end?” He was really enjoying her story and didn’t want it to be over.
“Not quite. After the sea monster debacle, there was a big fight at the wedding over who got to keep Andromeda. See, her uncle claimed she should belong to him—all very incestuous with those gods—and after a brief tiff, Perseus, who was greatly outnumbered, managed to get everyone turned to stone with”—she cringed—“Medussa’s head , including Andromeda’s awful parents who forgot to look away and also turned to stone. The only survivors were the two of them. And off they went. The end.”
“And they lived happily ever after?”
She shrugged. “There they are. Still up in the night sky.”
“Hard to argue with that logic. But her parents... they deserved it, chaining her to that rock.”
“Sacrifice for the greater good, I guess they thought. Didn’t really work out for them.”
He gazed up at the cluster of stars, picking out the constellation. “Maybe that’s why the constellation’s shaped like a house. Maybe that was the payoff for surviving sacrifice. A home that would never disappear?”
She smiled slowly. “I like that. See? Deep thoughts.”
He grinned as she pushed away from the fence. The look she sent him held a thousand unspoken things. One word from her and this detente between them would end and he would have dragged her to the nearest hayloft. Made her his.
But she said, “’Night, Cooper.”
He nodded to her. “’Night, Shay.” He watched her walk away until she disappeared into the house. Then he turned to the sky again, only vaguely unsettled by the idea that love and sacrifice were so inextricably bound together.