Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
IF SHE’S HERE, WHO’S RUNNING HELL?
Dallas
This damn couch is going to throw my back out for real this time.
I toss and turn all night, bitching out loud about the lumps to an annoyed Nelly.
He joined me out here, only because I grabbed him by the collar and slid him all the way out of the bedroom, where Shelby’s probably sleeping peacefully right now.
He whines and buries his head under his paws.
“She deserves better, and you know it,” I tell him.
Nelly sprawls over on his back, tongue hanging out of his mouth. What am I talking about? Nelly doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together. The little traitor just wants me to shut up, go back in the bedroom, and curl up against Shelby’s soft curves so he can get a good night’s sleep.
Well, that ain’t happening. I’m not going to let her get her heart set on me when I know she deserves way better.
I had two grand gestures that I fucked up royally.
I’m officially throwing in the towel. I don’t have what it takes to give her the knight in shining armor treatment.
I can’t write a fucking poem, and I more often than not eat with my fingers even when utensils are provided.
I can guarantee her orgasms and laughs, which is pretty much everything I happen to look for in a relationship, but I know Shelby wants more.
I love her too much to let her settle. Besides, all I’ve seen is proof that love only ends in heartbreak. I don’t want that for us.
My phone rings on the coffee table. Nelly whines at yet another interruption, but I sit up, wide awake. Who cares if the sun isn’t even up yet? Anything is better than lying here in pain, stewing on a relationship that was never meant to be.
“Hey, Pops. You okay?”
“Your brother couldn’t sleep,” he says by way of greeting. Huh. Guess it’s going around with the Gamble boys.
“Probably because he drank so much whiskey, he’s circling Mars right now.”
Pops doesn’t chuckle. “He read through the whole divorce petition.”
“Okay.” Fuck, this doesn’t sound good.
Pops pauses, during which my fingers go tingly with adrenaline. I can sense the danger hanging in the air. Nelly scrambles to his feet, alert and ready to charge ahead with me.
“She wants half the ranch.”
My head drops. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe past the anger that’s strangling my throat.
“That bitch,” I mutter.
Pops clears his throat. “Now let’s not get into name-calling, okay, son? She spent ten years at this ranch and feels she’s owed a portion of its success.”
I jump to my feet. “It’s success? We’re barely hanging on as it is, Pops!
Never once has she lent a hand when we’ve had a project or a crisis.
She was always too busy taking pictures for her non-existent photography business.
You ever think about that? She’s never pitched in like a family’s supposed to.
This ranch has persisted despite her being yet another mouth to feed. ”
“I ain’t arguing with you there,” Pops says on a sigh. “But the fact is, they didn’t have a prenup, and in Oklahoma, it’s an equitable division. She has a lengthy list drawn up of why she thinks she deserves half.”
I rub my aching neck as I pace. “And I can come up with a lengthy list of why she deserves nothing!”
“Dallas?” Shelby’s soft voice takes me by surprise.
I spin on my heels and see her approaching, hair tumbled around her shoulders and breasts swaying in her tiny tank top.
Goddamn it. She’s so fucking beautiful, I physically ache to pull her into my arms. Instead, I swallow hard and focus on the current crisis.
Pops stays on the phone while I fill her in.
Shelby’s eyes widen, but then she surprises me by snatching the phone out of my hands. “Pops? I have an idea.”
“I’m all ears, darlin’,” I hear him say back.
“We’ll get dressed and meet you at the house. I’ll call Frankie and Morgan on the way over. You wake up Skye. All hands on deck.” Shelby pauses a moment, then hangs up the phone and tosses it to me. “Get your fine ass in jeans, Gamble. We got a ranch to save.”
She marches away from me to get dressed, leaving me with a tantalizing view of those short shorts.
For the second time before dawn, I drop my chin to my chest and groan.
Why did I have to go and fall in love with her?
Why is nature so cruel as to make her perfect for me, but I’m not perfect for her?
Shelby’s back out, dressed in jeans and a tank top that shows off her perfect cleavage, boots on and keys in hand. I’m barely getting my jeans on. “Chop, chop, Dally.”
I’m so fuckin’ hard I can’t button my jeans. “Go stand in the kitchen,” I growl.
Shelby’s gaze falls directly to my problem.
Then she grins and shakes her ass, walking to the kitchen with Nelly scrambling to keep up with her.
I gaze up at the ceiling and think about Meemaw’s chickens.
When I’m finally ready to go, Nelly runs out the door to the truck first, and I snatch the keys right out of Shelby’s hands.
Just because I’m not the right guy for her doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being a gentleman.
She doesn’t fight me on it, which is a nice change of pace.
We head for the big house, bumping over potholes and gullies I’ll eventually fix.
If we still have a ranch once Ridge gets past this divorce, that is.
“So, what’s your big plan?” I ask when we finally crest the hill and see all the lights on at the house.
Shelby’s thumbs have been flying over her cell phone screen the whole time we’ve been driving. “Wait and see,” she mumbles.
I clutch my chest. “Wow. Won’t even tell your fiancé?”
That gets her lifting her head. She fires a one-eyed look of disdain my way. “Oh, now you pull out the fiancé card? After you vehemently told me last night that you’re planning our breakup?”
I shove the truck into Park. Nelly paws at the window in the back of the cab, eager to get out. “For your benefit,” I remind her.
She shrugs. “Then I’m not telling you about my plan. For your benefit.” Her smirk is annoying as fuck. I’m about to tell her that, but she slips out the door and Nelly follows her, nearly kicking me in the face as he jumps into the front seat and out the door.
I shake my head and pray for patience. The sun is just starting to lighten the sky when I get out of the truck and look east. Part of why I didn’t get into ranching as deeply as Ridge was because of the early morning hours.
I’m more of a night owl myself, mostly because I don’t plan on sleeping right away when I slide into bed.
“Keep up, Gamble!” Shelby calls from the porch before she slips inside the house.
“I like her,” Meemaw crows from right beside me a moment later.
I clutch my chest. “Jesus. Didn’t see you sitting there.”
She’s in a rocking chair on the porch, in a dark corner like a weirdo. She’s got a Silkie clutched to her chest as she pets its head. She hasn’t put her dentures in yet, which I only know because she gives me a gummy smile.
“You, on the other hand…you’re an idiot.”
“Love you too, Meemaw.” I roll my eyes and head inside.
Everyone’s assembled, sitting on various furniture in the family room and sipping on hot coffee.
I pour myself a cup and have a seat next to Shelby on the love seat.
She puts her hand on my thigh, which makes me groan internally.
Never in the history of ever have I complained about a woman putting her hand on my leg.
Except today. Except Shelby. Right when I’ve decided I have to break up with her.
“I’ve been texting my little brother, Archie. You all remember him?” Shelby asks, oblivious to my turmoil about her hand.
“Does he still have reddish-blond hair?” Skye asks. “He was such a little thing. So cute with that red hair.”
“Just what a man wants to be called. Cute,” I grumble.
Shelby ignores me. “Well, he grew, and his hair got darker. By the end of college, he topped out at six feet exactly. But more importantly, he’s a divorce lawyer in Tulsa.”
Pops sits forward, putting his coffee down on an end table. “Think he’ll give us a friends and family discount?”
Shelby smiles. “Better. He said he’ll do it pro bono.”
Ridge, who’s remained a stony silent participant in the corner of the room, squeezes his eyes shut.
He looks terrible. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot, and he’s aged ten years in the span of twenty-four hours.
I feel for the guy. He’s going through it emotionally, and now he carries the guilt of the family ranch being in jeopardy because of his choice in women.
I look over at Shelby as she explains the next steps.
I’m proud of her. I know, even when we officially break up, she’ll be my friend.
She’s a good person to her core. She’d never try to lash out and hurt me like Tiff is doing to Ridge.
Just one more reason to love her, I guess.
Just one more reason it’s going to suck trying to fall out of love with her.
But to keep her in my life as my best friend, I’ll do it.
I’ll find a way. One day, one minute at a time.
As Frankie and Skye read through the entirety of the divorce papers that were given to Ridge yesterday, Shelby confers with Pops. I steal out of the room and head for the kitchen on the pretense of a coffee refill. I stop short, seeing Meemaw perched on a stepstool, bending over the kitchen sink.
“Meemaw! We’ve talked about this. You can’t bathe the chickens in the kitchen!”
Said chicken squawks at my interruption. Meemaw looks over her shoulder, unfazed. “He’s getting bumblefoot!”
I grimace and pour another cup of coffee. “Okay, well, soak his feet in a bucket, not the sink where we prepare food.”
Meemaw titters. “He’s as much a part of this family as you, Dallas Gamble. You use your kitchen sink as you see fit, and I’ll use mine.”
I roll my eyes, but she’s too busy crooning at her chicken to know. Pulling out my cell phone, I hit the contact for my twin. Houston picks up, which surprises me. Then again, phone calls this early are usually an emergency.
“What?” he says, voice so rough I can barely make out what he said.
I keep my voice low, not wanting Ridge to overhear me. “We got ourselves a situation, Hou.”
He clears his throat, sounding slightly more awake. “Lost more calves?”
“No, I think Shelby stopped the spread. Thank god, since we already lost enough to have Pops sweating bullets. It’s Ridge. He got served divorce papers.”
“Halle-fucking-lujah.”
“That’s what I was thinking at first, but then he read the whole thing from her lawyer. She’s asking the court for half the ranch.”
“That little cunt bucket’s gonna to see the underside of my boot if she ever shows her face around here,” Meemaw mutters not quite under her breath.
“Fuck,” Houston breathes.
“Yeah.”
We both sit there in silence, just breathing into the phone. When he finally speaks again, there’s a resignation in his voice I’ve never heard before. I bet most people wouldn’t know the difference, but this is my twin brother. I know him just about as well as he knows himself.
“I assume with the calf deaths this season, we’ll have to tighten our belts?”
I shake my head. “Even with Shelby donating her veterinary services.”
“Okay,” Houston sighs. “I have a rodeo in three days I can’t back out of. I’ll cancel the next one since that’s over a week out. I’ll be home within the week.”
Hope, the kind that makes you think everything will be all right even when everything’s falling apart, lights up my chest. “You mean it?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
“I think my brother’s coming home.”
Meemaw turns from the sink at the news, a grin stretching out all her wrinkles. Thank god she put her dentures in.
I hang up, and Meemaw puts the chicken down, its feet bandaged up in so much white gauze it glides out of the kitchen like it’s ice skating.
Meemaw grabs a bowl, tucks her hand in my elbow, and we walk together into the family room.
Shelby and Pops have Ridge looking a little less likely to puke right then and there.
Skye and Frankie are loudly discussing options.
“I think we need to pivot. This is the perfect time to close down the cattle business and do something else with this land,” Skye is saying.
Pops interjects with the question we’re all wondering. “Like what?”
Four generations of Gambles have raised cattle on this land. What the hell else can we do with it? Become farmers like Wade? No, fucking thank you.
“Well, I’m not sure yet. But that would solve the issue. She can’t take half of nothing, right? She has no right to the land itself. That’s in Meemaw’s name. Tiff only has a claim on the ranching side of things. If we close it down and do something else, she loses.”
Skye’s not wrong, but it seems a bit crazy to shut down our entire ranch. Shelby must think so too because she jumps in, voice quiet but firm. “Let’s talk to Archie first. He’s a shark in the courtroom. He might be able to get her to drop her claim without you folding the ranch.”
“Fuck that,” Meemaw says into the quiet. All heads turn in her direction. She’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, a small bowl on the coffee table in front of her. The damn thing’s smoking. “I just put a spell on her. She’ll drop dead before she takes the ranch.”
“Jesus,” Ridge mutters, scrubbing both hands over his face.
“That seems a little extreme,” Frankie whispers.
I roll my eyes, trying not to look at Shelby, who’s barely holding back the laughter. “That’s not a spell, Meemaw. That’s just weed, and you’re going to set off the smoke alarm and get us all high.”
As if to prove my point, the alarm starts wailing and chaos descends.