Chapter 46
Forty-Six
THAT BOY'S HURTING SOMETHING FIERCE.
KINSLEY
Papers scatter across the pine table—press releases I've rewritten a dozen times, contact lists with names that blur together, and half-formed strategies.
Martinez's office released a statement this morning presenting him as the proud future grandfather, while subtly suggesting his environmental stance might "evolve in light of family developments.
" The man nauseates me—using an unborn child as leverage while portraying himself as the benevolent patriarch bringing two families together.
Meanwhile, the ranching community buzzes with speculation about the timing, wondering if Wyatt's relationship with the senator's daughter was strategic all along.
My phone buzzes again. Another reporter wanting comment or another political contact feigning concern while fishing for details. I should answer. I should be doing damage control. Instead, I stare at the screen until it goes dark and then toss it aside.
Jessica's been sleeping here since the party, her presence both comforting and suffocating. Brook keeps bringing casseroles I can't stomach, and Hailey's scrubbed my skin so many times I feel as raw on the outside as I do on the inside.
Even Kit stopped by to tell me that her brother was a world class jerk and an idiot who wouldn’t know a good thing if it smacked him in the face.
Then she told me I should try that and see if it knocked some sense into him.
I think she was trying to get a laugh out of me. Or maybe she was serious—I’m not sure.
I told Sarah I would see this through. I promised I wouldn't quit. I just don’t have any more gas in the tank.
Janet Morrison's name lights up the screen. I almost let it go to voicemail but I’m curious about how Jake is doing. Technically, he’s Wyatt’s friend so Wyatt gets him in the breakup. But I liked Jake, and I want to know how his recovery is going.
I reach for the phone.
"Janet, hi." I clear my throat, trying to sound like the competent professional she met in Jackson Hole instead of the heartbroken woman currently wearing yesterday's clothes and questioning every decision that brought me to this moment.
"Kinsley, honey, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time.
" Janet's voice carries the warm efficiency of a woman who runs county commission meetings and probably half the volunteer organizations in her town.
"I wanted to call and thank you for those water rights resources you promised.
The information you sent was exactly what we needed. "
Something tight in my chest loosens slightly. "You've already started reviewing them?"
"Started? Girl, I’m knee-deep in the application process.
My assistant and I spent last week going through the materials you sent over.
" Janet's enthusiasm burns through my self-doubt, bright as sunlight breaking through the clouds.
"We should have our preliminary application submitted by next Friday. "
The part of me that remembers being good at this work sighs with relief.
"That's wonderful news, Janet. Really." I find myself sitting up straighter. "The timing should work well with the federal budget cycle. How’s Jake healing up?”
Janet sighs. “All he talks about is how good he’s going to do in Vegas. You’d think he’d learn that he’s not invincible.”
I gulp at the mention of the National Finals Rodeo. I was supposed to be there with Wyatt. “It’s good to hear that he’s still Jake.”
She chuckles. "Kinsley, I hope you don't mind me saying this,” her voice shifts, taking on the careful tone of someone approaching delicate territory, “but it's a shame things didn't work out between you and Wyatt."
News travels fast in the western world—I know this. But this fast?
"How did you…?” The words stumble out before I can stop them.
"Oh, honey," Janet says gently, "Wyatt talked to Jake. That boy's hurting something fierce."
My grip tightens on the phone. Every professional instinct screams at me to redirect the conversation, to protect what's left of my privacy. But the desperate, heartbroken woman living in my heart is starving for any scrap of information about him.
How is he handling all this? Is he eating? Does he hate me for not fighting for him?
The questions claw at my throat, begging to be asked, but I swallow them down like bitter medicine. I can't ask. I have no right to ask. There wasn’t a choice to make.
Janet fills the silence anyway. "Jake says he's headed to some bull riding circuit up in Utah, trying to ride off his heartbreak.”
The image of Wyatt throwing himself at bulls because Brittney and her father destroyed our future makes me sick to my stomach.
“And being saddled with the senator’s daughter sounds like a nightmare,” Janet continues talking, her voice carrying the casual certainty of someone sharing common knowledge.
"I just don't know what kind of marriage they're going to have with his future father-in-law trying to take the Halloway land and all. "
The world stops.
Every sound—the tick of the wall clock, even my own heartbeat—fades into nothing as those words echo in my skull.
"I'm sorry, what?!"
"What, what?" she asks.
"What do you mean Senator Martinez is trying to take their land?" My gears start turning again. "Has he already started investigations?" That dirty slime ball is probably pressuring Wyatt because he hasn't hauled Brittney off to Vegas for a quick wedding.
"Um," Janet says, clearly surprised by the edge in my voice, "Just the first one."
"First?" I need clarification. "How many is he going to file and when? I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it’s important. What did he file?"
"The fire hazard designation." She speaks slowly, like I'm not as smart as she thought I was. "The one you planned the whole party for? He’s the one who spearheaded the fire hazard rezoning in the first place.”
I’m thrown back in my chair by the news. “How do you know this?” I am in shock. We never got to the bottom of the paperwork. The trail led to lower-level government employees, and I didn’t dig any deeper.
“Oh, I was in the state offices when his office initiated the process months ago. They were all buzzing about how this was going to ensure his reelection this November.”
The pieces click together with horrible clarity.
All my careful political maneuvering: the evening designed to bring together ranchers and politicians; my brilliant strategy of positioning Martinez as their savior, the man who could solve their crisis with a single phone call—I was dancing to Martinez's tune from the very beginning.
He’d created the problem so he could offer the solution.
It’s brilliant. He positioned himself as the only hope while holding the knife to the family’s throat, forcing Wyatt to marry Brittney.
And I walked right into his trap, dragging the Halloway family with me.
I can’t believe he played me.
My brain fog clears and gears chug back to life.
Actually, Martinez probably didn’t expect the Halloways to hire me. He probably assumed he’d be dealing with Wyatt and maybe Sarah—who is a formidable opponent in her own right but who wouldn’t have the ability to put any real pressure on him.
I look at the game board from his position and see the way he countered my moves. But there was one thing he couldn’t foresee and that was Wyatt falling in love with me. He didn’t foresee it, but he didn’t think it would be a problem.
That’s where he’s wrong.
I’m the trump card and it’s about time I started acting like it. "Janet, can you get me copies of those records? The filing dates, correspondence, everything?"
"Of course," she says immediately. "I'll have them to you by this afternoon. Something's not right about all this, is it?"
"No," I say, but I’m smiling wickedly. "Something's very, very wrong."
After I hang up with Janet, I sit down to map out what happened. When I fill a sheet of paper, I tear it off and lay it next to the one before until I have a full timeline. The picture is diabolical and disturbing on so many levels.
Martinez used his own daughter as both bait and beneficiary, betting that Wyatt's honor and loyalty to his family would bind him more effectively than any feelings he may or may not have had for Brittney.
The violation of the trust instilled in him as a public figure makes disgust rise in my throat. Using federal agencies as weapons to play matchmaker for his spoiled child is disgusting and I’m betting voters will feel the same way I do about it.
But what makes me furious is how he weaponized Wyatt's loyalty—his best quality—into a trap that would lock him into a miserable life he never chose.
My professional anger and personal rage are feeding off each other now, building into something that feels powerful and dangerous. Senator Martinez has no idea what he's unleashed.
If Martinez can manipulate federal agencies this easily—what else is he capable of? The anonymous threats that have been haunting me suddenly take on new meaning. Was that him too, trying to drive me away before I could interfere with his daughter's prize?
Something cold and calculating settles in my chest, pushing aside the heartbreak and guilt until all that remains is a quest to right a wrong.
Yet even as this clarity fuels my determination, a hollow ache remains. This revelation doesn't change what matters most. The baby. The innocent life.
Wyatt is still having a baby with another woman.
And he never once mentioned to me that there was even a possibility—not during our time in Jackson Hole, not during those quiet evenings on the porch when I thought we were sharing everything.
I know Jess would tell me that it happened before we were together and that I should let it go but I can’t, not when there’s a child involved.
Because I know that Wyatt will forever be tied to Brittney through that kid.
He has to be. Exposing Martinez won't magically fix any of that.
Martinez made a critical mistake: he underestimated me. I'm not going to disappear from the world as Wyatt's heartbroken ex-girlfriend, devastated and defeated.
I'm a political strategist and a cowgirl who knows how to fight dirty when the situation calls for it.
I will win, but I will also lose so that Wyatt’s baby doesn’t have to.