Chapter Two
“Daddy!” Rosie’s entire face fills my cell phone screen; chocolate smeared across her mouth and up her cheeks from the cupcakes I had sent to the house earlier today.
The guilt from being away from them always has me spoiling them whenever I can, but now I feel a little sorry for Beth since Rosie is on a sugar rush, and it’s almost bath and bedtime.
“Hey bug,” I lean back on the headboard, laptop open to the side of me as I run the database on Calvin Scott. I try not to use these services all that much, but sometimes needs must, and this is a needs must situation.
“When are you coming home?” She sets the cell at a more reasonable distance and starts to peel off the wrapper from another cupcake.
“Soon,” I tell her, “Maybe no more sweets now; it’s almost time for a bath.”
“Bethie said I could,” she pouts like all five-year-olds do, her brows drawing low over bright blue eyes. My gut twists in the way it does every time I look into them. One day I will have to tell her.
“How many have you eaten?” I ask.
“Just one,” she says.
“Two!” Caleb calls in the background, snitching on his little sister.
“Okay,” I sit up, “No more, bug. I mean it.”
“But daddddddddd,” she drags out the word with a whine.
“Nope, last word,” I tell her, using the tone she knows not to argue with. “You won’t sleep with all that sugar. You can have another one tomorrow.”
She huffs, “Fine.”
I chuckle, “Did you have a good day with Beth?” I ask her, switching the subject.
“I did! Aunty Niamh braided my hair, look!” She swings her head around to show me the braid Niamh, my brother’s wife, put in her hair.
“Very pretty.”
“Yep,” she grins, “Even Becky liked it! We saw her at the park.”
I wet my lips, knowing she’s been having issues with the girl in her class.
It had taken almost three months to get the school to deal with it before summer break, but it seems to be on the mend and my daughter is happier for it.
It’s fucking hard when your children are being picked on because of something they had no control over, and even worse when there’s little to be done about it other than constant meetings and calls to her teachers.
“You want to speak to Caleb?” She asks, distracted now.
“Go on then,” I smile, “I’ll speak to you later, bug, love you.”
“Love you too, Daddy,” she mumbles as she passes the phone to her brother and runs off.
“Hi Dad,” my son answers, propping the phone up against something so he can continue with his drawing, “How’s work?”
“Busy,” I admit, “The horse is a real wild one.”
His eyes light up and he lifts his head from his paper, “Really?”
“Mm,” I nod. “Could use your special touch.”
He grins wide, showing off his gappy teeth. “No, you’ve got it, Dad.”
I chuckle, “I’ll try.”
Caleb has picked up my love of horses. He’s good with them, knowledgeable, but more than that, they help him.
His mom taking off did a number on him, and he’s been struggling since, but the horses help.
He talks a bit more now, lets people in, which was something I didn’t think would happen a year ago.
We talk for a bit longer before he hands me over to Beth, an older woman who has been helping me out with the kids since they were small. She’s paid well, but she’s also an angel with those two children; they love her and she treats them like her own.
She fills me in on all the things the kids don’t, and I hang up knowing they’re well taken care of.
I release a breath, climbing up from the bed and stretch, my back cracking with it.
I’d spent the day leaning over that fence, hours in the same position to allow the filly to get used to my presence.
She’d come over at one point, not within reaching distance; she’s much too untrusting for that, but close enough for her to get a good look at me.
Horses are curious animals; it’s in their nature once they feel safe enough to explore.
She’d curled her lip to scent me, but then one of the ranch hands had come out to take her back to the stables.
I’d watched with gritted teeth the entire time before I’d ordered everyone to stay clear of her.
This is my job and all this place is doing is fucking her up.
I’d gone to visit her in the stables once she’d been put away for the night, but she’d shut down a little and wouldn’t respond to my smell or my voice. I’ll have to be sure I’m the first one she see’s in the morning, before anyone else can get to her.
Heading through to the small kitchen in this cabin, I grab a glass from the cupboard and pour a helping of whiskey into it, bringing it to my lips and reveling in the burn as it slides down my throat.
My feet take me to the window. I’m close to the main house here, can see the lights brightening the darkness that has descended.
Summer is here, and the nights are warm and humid; the air thick enough to stick to your skin, and even inside, I can hear the call of owls and the chirping of crickets.
The mountains aren’t visible this far away from Knight Falls Ranch; their absence allowing the stars to reign in the sky.
A slamming door catches my attention, and I watch Calvin storm toward his truck.
Behind him, the blonde woman watches from the doorway.
Even from this distance, I can see she’s been crying, and she looks a little less put together.
Her hair is a mess, her hands shaking. Her lips move as she yells something to Cal, but he ignores her, climbing into the truck before he speeds away from the house, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.
Stepping out of view as the headlights swing my way, I watch him speed past, and only when he’s gone do I look back to the porch.
The woman steps out and lowers herself to the top step, covering her face with her hands.
I’m not sure what it is about the sight that has me moving. Grabbing another glass from the cupboard, I pour her a shot of whiskey and then step out, walking toward her. I make my steps loud enough for her to know I’m coming, and when she lifts red-rimmed eyes to the sound, she doesn’t flee.
Silently, I offer her the glass.
Before she takes it, she looks behind me, to where the dust is still settling, and then her hand reaches for it.
“Sip—” My words cut off when she throws the entire shot back and then starts to cough. “It.” I finish.
She coughs into the crook of her arm, and I hide my chuckle by taking a sip of my own.
“You really shouldn’t make him angry,” she finally speaks.
“Who?” I cock my head, watching the woman closely. Her cheeks are wet with her tears, but she’s no longer crying, and the downturn of her mouth reveals a deeper sorrow. She looks defeated.
“Cal,” her eyes hold mine.
I scoff, “He doesn’t scare me.”
Her eyes close for a brief second. “I didn’t think he did.”
There’s a heaviness to her words, an underlying meaning that my brain is trying to unravel. She’s like a puzzle with thousands of pieces that all look the same. I can’t quite piece it together.
“Thanks for the drink,” she rises to stand and hands me back the glass.
“What’s going on here?” I ask her retreating form.
She pauses at the door but doesn’t look back. “Do yourself a favor and leave before you figure it out.”
The door clicks closed.
My molars grind, jaw aching with how hard I bite down.
There is a reason I don’t like Cal; the way he treats his horses leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but I’m starting to think there may be something far more sinister going on behind closed doors.
I am no stranger to men on a power trip, have seen it firsthand, and this is shaping up to be exactly like what I have witnessed before.
But I will not heed her warning, I’m not leaving until I figure it out.
Heading back to the cabin, I close and lock the doors before I rip all the curtains closed and grab my laptop, bringing it to the table so I can sit and go through the data I’ve collected.
It’s simple information at first: his name, date of birth, the basics until a timeline starts to form.
He purchased the ranch seven years ago, started turning a profit—a high one—after two years, which then doubled the following year, and he’s been steadily growing since.
He’s in a mix of businesses, owns a couple of racing horses that he has compete, and as far as I can see here, he’s clean.
Legitimate money sources, he pays his taxes and his debts.
That profit though seems steep, especially for such a young business.
Knight Falls Ranch earns, but it’s taken generations of hard work to get it to where it is today.
We failed as a business many times while figuring it out, but Cal seems to have hit the ground running with very little experience in the business.
I suppose it is a busy tourist attraction; I’ve seen large groups of people today, all of them soaking in the experiences the ranch has to offer, even so, nothing is sitting right. I need to go deeper, but I can’t do that here. Not when my IP can be traced.
Closing the laptop, I lean back in my chair, running my finger along my bottom lip.
Taking this job was supposed to be simple. I’d already visited through the spring, made a plan, but now I’m here… I hadn’t been looking hard enough when I accepted this job.
I shouldn’t get involved in this kind of shit, but there’s no damn way I’ll turn my back if I suspect wrongdoing or neglect toward any animal, let alone horses. And I certainly can’t turn away when I think someone may be in trouble.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I already know this is about to become a hell of a lot more complicated than I had planned.
My phone begins to buzz on the table, and a glance at the caller ID shows it’s my brother.
“What?” I grunt into the cell, wincing when it comes across far harsher than I intended.
“Jesus,” Roman laughs, “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”
I roll my eyes at my older brother, even though he can’t see me. “Long day.”
I should probably be nicer to him, especially when we almost lost him only a couple of months ago. He was stabbed, and for those few hours while we waited for an update from the doctors, we weren’t sure if he was going to survive.
But he had something to live for.
A wife.
A home.
A life.
Now he’s thriving and happy, which is something none of us thought he’d achieve. I’m happy for him; he deserves it, but you’ll never catch me going down the road of falling in love ever again.
“Wanna talk about it?” Roman asks, and I can hear him shuffling before a door clicks closed.
I sigh, “I think something more is happening here.”
“Like what?”
“Not sure yet. It just doesn’t seem right.”
Roman is silent for a moment. “You need something from me?”
“Not right now, but I’ll be in touch if I do.”
“I’ve got your back,” Roman says, “so does Remy.”
Remy is the youngest of the three of us, the reckless one. He ran off to the rodeo the moment he was old enough and is only back when he gets some time off.
“You too,” I grunt, not comfortable with the affection, but I take it. My brothers are the only family I have left, and we’ve all had our share of heartache. Our father murdered our mother; our grandparents are dead, so all we’ve got is each other.
I hang up the phone and stare toward the window as if I can see past the curtains. I could just leave it, do my job and get the fuck out of here.
I could, but I won’t.
That’s not the type of man I am, and it never will be.