Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Ranch
“Stay away from Bowman,” I repeated.
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, he’s my best friend, my best man, and basically my brother. But he’s not . . . he’s had a hard go of it. A hard life, I mean.”
“You mean the foster kid thing and the abandoned at birth thing?” I queried.
Declan paused. “He told you?”
I nodded.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” He leaned back in his seat and went on, “He’s not a family man. I just don’t want you to have any illusions about him.”
“No illusions,” I assured him. “But this talk is kind of unnecessary, don’t you think? He’s here to get to know Hadley. I’m here to—for my dad. There will be a wedding. And then I’ll go back to New York and he’ll go back to the circuit.”
He looked at me for a long moment, like he was pondering saying something else, but then a caravan of trucks drove up behind us. One by one they parked in front of the double wide and climbed out. After a while, an older woman stepped out of one of the vehicles.
“Who’s that?” I asked in confusion.
“Stella,” Declan said. “Come on, let me introduce you to the Monroes.”
We got out of the side-by-side and headed toward the group of people standing outside the double wide.
“Declan!” the older man greeted, holding out his hand. His smile warmed his weathered face.
“Hey, John.” Declan clasped his hand, and then dropped it so he could hug the woman. “Good to see you, Stella.” He stepped back and gestured to me. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Salem, Hadley’s twin.”
“Nice to meet you,” John said. “Let me introduce the family.”
“Maybe we should make name tags,” one of the younger men said, winking at me.
“That’s Harlan,” John said. “And it’s best if you ignore everything he says.”
I laughed.
“Grady, Killian, and Chase.” John pointed to the other three. “And my wife, Stella. She keeps us all in line.”
“You’re heathens,” Stella said with a smile, and then looked at me. “It’s a full-time job.”
“Looks like it,” I said, enjoying their easy familiarity. “Declan says you’re from Sandpoint?”
John nodded. “We’re not that far from home, but—” He gestured to the RVs. “This will make our extended stay a lot more comfortable, and cut down on unnecessary travel time.”
“How long are you staying?” Harlan asked, running a hand through his dark hair.
“Just for the wedding,” I said, looking at Declan. “And then I’ll go back to New York.”
“New York?” Grady repeated as he scratched his scruffy jaw.
“Yeah.” I clamped my mouth shut, not wanting to have to tell a group of strangers about my father in the hospital.
John took the social cue well. He cleared his throat and addressed Declan, “I’d like to talk to you about some things.”
Declan nodded. “Of course. Salem? You mind driving back alone? Someone’ll give me a ride when I’m finished.”
I let out a breath of relief. “Sure thing. It was nice meeting you all.”
“I hope we see more of you,” Harlan voiced a bit too enthusiastically.
Stella smacked his arm. “Professionalism, Harlan.”
“What’s your role in the family business?” I asked Harlan.
He grinned. “I’m the one in charge of blowing things up.”
“In more ways than one, I’ll bet.”
With a chuckle, I walked back to the side-by-side and climbed in. I’d learned to drive a side-by-side long before a truck, so I was very familiar with it.
I was thankful for the noise blasting from the vehicle, but my conversation with Declan was at the forefront of my mind. I had to keep my shit together—for Hadley’s sake. How I felt about Jane, among other things, didn’t matter.
Only Hadley’s well-being mattered.
I was instantly ashamed. I had to do better. I had to be better.
Bowman was nowhere to be found when I got back to the house and parked. I was just about to go inside and call my boss when I heard, “Son of a bitch!”
I turned and looked for the source of the yell, but couldn’t see anyone. I walked around the side of the house and saw two human legs sticking out from underneath the back porch and a pair of boots digging into the ground.
“Bowman?” I asked.
A heavy thunk followed by another curse had me wincing.
“This goat is going to be the death of me!”
“Tempest?” I asked.
“The damn idiot thinks she’s a dog. She saw something scurry under the porch and she went in after it. And then I went in after her. Only she’s refusing to come out and I can’t go any farther.”
“Did you think of trying to lure her out with a carrot or something?” I asked, trying not to laugh at the bull rider attempting to corral a baby goat.
“Fuck!” he roared.
It took a moment, but then I smelled it; the scent of rotten eggs, sulfur and decaying onions. It instantly made my eyes water and my stomach revolt.
Tempest bleated, clearly in protest.
Bowman backed out from under the porch and the stench became instantly worse.
I pinched my nose and ran away.
“Powell!” Bowman shouted.
“You’re on your own!” I yelled with a laugh.
Even as I was saying it, I pulled out my cell phone and called Muddy.
“Hey, sugar.”
“Hi,” I said, trying to stifle a giggle and failing.
“What’s going on?”
“I need your skunk spray remedy.”
Muddy laughed. “You?”
“Nope. Bowman. And Tempest.”
“I’ll text it to you,” she said. “So we’ve got a loitering skunk?”
“Seems that way, yeah,” I said.
“Hey!” Bowman barked, causing me to twirl, phone still to my ear.
“I’m getting a skunk stank removal recipe,” I said to him. “You might as well go back under the porch and get Tempest. She’ll need a dunking, too.”
Bowman muttered another curse, but he headed back to the porch.
“Talk to Josiah,” Muddy said. “He’ll set a trap for the skunk. And send pictures.”
“Of the skunk?”
“No. Of Bowman having a meltdown.”
“Judging by his reaction, I’m thinking this is his first skunk spraying.”
Muddy sniggered. “Keep me posted, sugar. Thanks for the laugh.”
I hung up with Muddy and a few moments later my cell buzzed, no doubt with her recipe instructions.
Bowman crawled out from under the porch, Tempest bleating against his chest.
“What do I do now?” he demanded.
“You wait right there, don’t move, don’t let go of that goat. I’m going to go make Muddy’s skunk spray destroyer recipe, and then I’ll be back.”
“You might want to change your clothes,” he stated.
“Why would I need to change my clothes?” I demanded.
“You’re washing the goat.”
“Like hell I am.”
“Either you wash her or I turn her into goat kababs.”
“Goat curry would be better,” I joked.
He looked down and glared at the baby goat who peered up at him, and then licked his cheek.
“Son of a bitch,” Bowman muttered again.
“Nothing cuter than a man holding a baby goat,” I said as I skipped my way to the house.
“What about a man holding a baby?” he tossed out.
Declan’s words came roaring back about Bowman not being a family man.
I didn’t reply, and instead just kept on walking.
“My, my, my, how things change,” I said, raising the bottle of beer to my lips.
Bowman ran a hand down Tempest’s back—Tempest who was currently curled up in a towel on Bowman’s lap.
“Not a word,” Bowman said.
“You’re a goat convert,” I quipped, completely ignoring him. “Something happened when you bathed the skunk stink from her fur. You bonded. You’re connected. You’re going to goat-nap her from Hadley, thus inciting a fight between you and Declan. Fists will fly over a baby dwarf pygmy goat.”
“I’ll pay you to stop talking.” He grabbed his bottle of beer that rested on the stump next to his camp chair.
We were outside, enjoying the afternoon sun and a beer, but the scent of skunk still hung in the air. It would take days to clear out.
The sound of a truck rumbled up the driveway on the other side of the house, but the noise didn’t disturb Tempest who was perfectly content in Bowman’s beefy arms.
I want him to hold me with those arms.
A groan escaped my lips.
“You okay?” Bowman asked.
“Peachy,” I grumbled.
A truck door slammed shut.
“Declan,” Bowman said.
I nodded.
A few minutes later, the back door of the house opened and Declan came outside.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “And what the fuck is that God awful smell?”
“I guess you haven’t talked to your fiancé,” I said with a laugh. I got up from my seat and headed to the porch. “Bowman can give you a rundown.”
“Where are you going?” Declan asked.
“I need to make a call,” I said.
“I’m gonna head back to the hospital,” he said.
“Don’t forget the yarn,” I reminded him. “And some of the food in the fridge.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
I headed up the stairs to my bedroom and closed the door. And then I pulled out my phone to call my boss.
“Salem,” he greeted. “How are you?”
“I’m hanging in there,” I said honestly. “Dad made it through surgery, but we won’t know more for a few days. If all goes well, they’ll try to wake him up.”
“What do you need?” he asked.
Jack was ten years older than my father, with salt and pepper hair, and he’d taken me under his wing when I’d started working at Beckett & Bastion.
We had an honest relationship that most people didn’t have with their bosses. I liked and respected him, so I had no qualms about being forthcoming.
“I don’t know how this is going to go,” I admitted. “I mean, when they wake him up. There might be . . . mental deficiencies.”
It was the first time I’d said it out loud. Neither Muddy nor Hadley had even talked about it. Maybe they couldn’t, but we had to be realistic. There was a chance he wouldn’t even wake up, but that was too much, even for me to consider.
“There might be,” Jack said slowly. “But he’s healthy. There’s a good chance that he wakes up without any issues.”
I sighed. “Either way, I don’t—I can’t say what the future is going to look like.”
“You don’t have to know. Take as much time as you need, Salem.”
“Thanks. You don’t know what that means. But . . . Rudolph Lancaster. They’re not going to wait forever. Not after their botched marketing campaign. They’re chomping at the bit and I don’t think they’re going to want to wait on me.”
Things moved fast in New York. If you didn’t jump on opportunity, there were ten people behind you ready to take your spot, and all ten of them were fighting to be the best in their field.
That had been me. Ready to prove myself. Determined to succeed and clawing my way to the top.
But now . . . none of it seemed to matter. Not with Dad in the hospital.
“I’ll talk to them,” Jack offered.
“I’d appreciate that. I don’t have the bandwidth to be diplomatic or placate anyone right now.”
“Understandable, considering the situation.” He paused. “I was going to tell them you had a family emergency and you’re unavailable for the time being. Is that okay?”
“Tell them the whole story,” I said. “They seem to appreciate authenticity.”
“It’s your family business. You sure you want that out there?”
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “It is what it is, Jack. I’d rather they know everything, and then they can decide what to do.”
“Your call. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
I hung up the phone, and then sat down on the bed, staring at my dark screen.
The life I’d been building for myself felt like it was slipping away and I was doing nothing to hold onto it.