Chapter 2
Kenzie
Three weeks later…
“I’m on my way, Dad.” Just like you commanded. I dared not say the words lest I get into a vicious argument with my father. After the longer than anticipated drive from Billings, the last thing I wanted was his usual words of condemnation.
I hadn’t left early enough.
I hadn’t called him when I’d left.
I hadn’t sounded thrilled at the notion coming home for God knew how long but would end up being too long.
That’s because he was right. I wasn’t thrilled but, in a way, I felt I had no other choice but to return home.
The timeframe was yet to be determined. Doing so was the only decent choice.
Absolutely, I could have stuck it out in Billings where I’d built my life, holding my head high while searching for another job after being fired from my old one.
Staying in cheap hotel rooms. Eating ramen noodle soup.
But for how long? Until my money ran out?
However, no matter how progressive Billings was in comparison to Missoula, it was still an old boys’ town regarding communication. My firing was as close to internet news as there could be. Add in that my boyfriend had dumped me in the same twenty-four-hour period and I’d been tainted. Unhireable.
Unlovable.
Ugh.
My guess was that the hometown gossipers had already received the news.
Forget the internet. The old Missoula cronies picked up the phone and held conference calls with each other to spill the tea.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t use Zoom so they could share horrible photographs.
While only five hours away from where I’d grown up, the distance had kept my father from just dropping in on me.
That and his struggle to maintain his wealth.
And the nasty fight that had been our last communication.
Here I was, coming home with my tail between my legs. Oh, hell, no. What I’d accomplished in a few years was substantial.
Yes, it was. I’d racked up a ninety-seven percent win of my cases in court.
So why was I chastising myself again? The ache of the job loss was real, especially since my termination had been politically motivated, but the disappearance of a boyfriend in my life wasn’t that big a deal.
We’d grown apart, becoming more like roommates than anything.
Early on, I’d overlooked his catting around, which had been a big mistake.
After confronting him, we’d tried to make it work, slowly falling back into the same routines.
That had been fine given our busy work schedules and that we mostly liked each other.
Then he’d met Emily and everything had changed.
She didn’t like having an almost ex-girlfriend living in the same condo where she was canoodling with the man I’d once believed could be the one. So I’d been ceremoniously asked to leave. Timeframe? Twelve hours.
The call from my father had seemed like fate intervening. But coming home to Missoula felt more like I’d suffered failures. My dad had certainly already tossed out a few barbs while pretending to be supportive. In confessing, I’d fed into his insistence I come home and save his bacon.
Well, he hadn’t used the last words, but I’d sensed his desperation.
Coming home was a bit like being forced to face the Hatfields and McCoys.
There were two powerhouse families in town and since I’d been a child, they’d been at odds.
The Becketts and the Sterlings. I was from the Sterling end, my father ceremoniously trying to run the town, including the city council.
The Becketts came from old money, certainly more beloved and refusing to sell my father land he’d coveted for years.
No one had ever mentioned why the feud had started. There’d been some alluding to land issues, but I’d always had a feeling the anger suffered between them was personal.
My brother and the youngest and wildest of the Beckett sons had become friends even though both had been forbidden by their fathers from seeing the other.
That hadn’t stopped them from forming a bond.
Or indulging in criminal acts for that matter.
Our household had often been embroiled in scenes that would remind someone of the O.K. Corral.
The reason the feud had interfered with my life was much more personal, which caused a portion of the angst that nearly suffocated me.
I’d fallen madly and hopelessly in love with the resident bad boy and youngest Beckett brother.
On the day I’d turned eighteen, I’d made my feelings known.
Stephen Beckett had been the epitome of the bad boy, long dark hair and dreamy blue eyes that could easily capture a girl’s heart.
Rough around the edges, he’d driven a hot sports car, had a killer smile and a way with the ladies.
To make matters worse, he’d become a rodeo champion at age fifteen.
A star on the circuit, his popularity had been in the stratosphere when I’d left for college.
Even now, I was tingling all over just thinking about him.
Yet the taste left in my mouth was bittersweet given our last interaction.
I really had no good reason to return home.
What I couldn’t understand was why he’d forfeited his career, turning to firefighting.
Why, oh, why was I being forced to endure even a moment of the past? The answer was simple. Because I was headed home against my better judgment.
And because I had a bad feeling at some point I’d run into Stephen Beckett. If I did, I’d give him a piece of my mind. Again.
Now, my teeth strummed my bottom lip for the umpteenth time as images of Stephen’s face popped into my mind. Nope. I wasn’t going down memory lane any longer. The man was like all the rest, a womanizer. I’d just been dumped by one. Why bother indulging in fantasies regarding another?
Tires that needed replacement rode over the rough road with one jump after another until the sharp edge of one incisor skewered my tender flesh. Drops of blood filled my mouth, the tangy taste adding to my sour mood. Perfect. Just perfect.
“There’s a storm coming,” my dad said gruffly, dragging me out of a sinful, unwanted, and unneeded fantasy back to real life.
My dad wasn’t a man of many words and we weren’t close, even less so since I’d moved away, promising never to return.
What was the old adage? Never say never?
At least I’d have a chance to see my best friend while in town.
If I survived whatever my father needed.
I glanced out the windshield at the bright late morning sky, wincing when I did.
The five-hour drive had turned into a full day and night, the unwanted adventure fraught with a flat tire, an extended stay in a tiny town that reminded me of some horror movie, and the worst margaritas this side of the Mississippi. At least there hadn’t been bedbugs.
And I’d been thankful my father hadn’t had his concept of the cavalry come bring me home.
Maybe using a lasso.
Exhausted and cranky, I was as close to snapping at my father as I’d been for years. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got big Bertha and the sun is currently out. I’m making good time. I should be at the ranch in a couple hours.”
If I didn’t stop at a bar first, which was still a decent option.
“You need to replace that goddamn truck like I’ve told you a hundred times.
It doesn’t suit you or your position in town.
Now, your mother is waiting for you. We have a lot to discuss, McKenzie.
” When he used my given name, I knew I was in for one of his infamous lectures.
My father certainly knew how to turn up the heat, reminding me of the family I’d come from.
Wealthy, influential, and in my mind, corrupt. Yeah, that wasn’t polite of me, but I was no dummy. I’d learned a long time ago that my father used whatever methods were necessary to get what he wanted in business and life.
While he’d started barking at me, on his initial call he’d almost used sweet talk in asking me to come home. That meant he was in some kind of legal trouble. Knowing my father, he could be involved in anything.
Including criminal activity.
That put me in a precarious position since I was a licensed attorney.
Any advice I offered my father would need to be tempered because I was a black and white kind of woman. The very reason I’d lost my job. I hadn’t been lured into sidestepping the law. Who knew attorney firms usually stretched the truth?
He ended the call abruptly as he always did. There was never time for chitchat. He rarely asked me about my life or my interests. His call had been out of the blue and like a fool, when he’d asked if I could take a few days off, I’d blurted out my woes.
I’d never hear the end of it. My brother would enjoy poking fun as well.
I didn’t have long to wait before my phone chimed again. With a scowl on my face, I glanced at the screen. Finally, something to smile about after the shitty few days I’d had. “Charmaine.”
“Oh, please, girlfriend. You know how I hate that name. Char ‘tis the name.”
We laughed like it was old times. I’d been working so much I hadn’t taken the time to see one of my best friends in far too long. “I’m glad to hear your voice.”
“Are you close?”
“Close enough to wish I hadn’t decided to come home.”
“Well, if push comes to shove, you can always stay with me.”
I thought about my father’s terse words. “Don’t make that offer. I might end up on your doorstep.”
“I have a guest bed. We can commiserate over horrible men.”
“Not you too,” I hissed.
“Well, at least you didn’t have a ring on your finger before you realized your man couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“Oh, Jesus. Okay. Let me get settled and we’ll go out for drinks. Fair enough?”
“Call me.”
Hearing the crackle was clear indication the reception was about to be cut off by the mountains. At least that meant I was closer. “I’ll give you a call later.” When she didn’t answer, I glanced at the screen. Call failed. Perfect.