Chapter Six
Now that he was thinking of integrating the axe throwing into the Christmas party, Denver realized he could no longer avoid
including the collective in the conversation. This was why he made a very unusual stop at Garrett’s Watch midafternoon to
see if he could catch Sawyer down at the barn.
When he pulled up, Sawyer was there, standing and talking to his brother Wolf. There were two toddlers running around the
barn area, laughing and giggling. He knew that the older one belonged to Sawyer. He figured the younger one had to be Wolf’s.
He didn’t do all that much keeping up with the Garretts and their young. There seemed to be more and more these days. But
then, that was also true of the McClouds, and really, his family too. Kids everywhere.
A new era for sure.
“Garrett,” he said.
He felt a moment of satisfaction when Sawyer Garrett’s eyebrows shot up, and Wolf Garrett looked at his brother with confusion
on his face.
“King,” said Sawyer. “What is it that brings you by?”
“I have an order of business to enter into the next town hall.”
“Well, that is short notice,” said Sawyer.
“I know. That’s why I came direct to the source. You’re the one that conducts the meetings.”
“Yeah. Surprise you didn’t go through Fia.”
“She would’ve just told me to come talk to you. She might be my sister-in-law, but she’s not prone to giving me whatever I
want.”
“Fair. Guess it’s not like she had a whole personality transplant.”
“Indeed not.”
“So what order of business are you looking to enter?”
“It’s a matter of a new business proposition that I have for King’s Crest. I’m self-financing.”
“Okay.”
“But I also want it to be integrated into this whole Christmas shindig that we're having.”
“So it isn’t anything that will financially benefit the collective.”
“No, it will. I’m going to finance it, the money is going to go into the pot.” He cleared his throat. “My share, anyway. Most
of it’s going to go to Sheena Patrick, who is proposing to run it. She wants to open up an axe throwing bar.”
“What?” Sawyer asked.
“I know. But, it’s what she wants. And I feel level to give it to her.”
“I don’t understand any of this. You’re planning on paying, but you want to give your share of it into the collective pot.”
“That sums it up.”
“Why?”
“I have enough of my own money. I prefer to put money back into the ranch.”
“Typically, when we do that, we’ve all invested.”
“I know how the collective works, Sawyer. I was going to keep it to myself. But you know, now that I’m introducing it as part of a collective endeavor, I felt like it would be best to make it aboveboard.”
“Well, you’re more than welcome to propose it. I don’t see any reason why I or anyone else would have opposition to it. You’re
using your own money.”
“But you’re allowed to have opposition,” he said.
He didn’t integrate himself much into the group. He knew that. And he also knew that people mostly thought of him as an asshole.
But that was based largely on his lack of friendliness, and not anything he’d ever done. He didn’t know how to be all about
his family, all about his siblings and emotionally all about everybody else. He knew how to throw money at it. And that was
what he did.
“I hope you invite Sheena to the meeting,” Sawyer said. “Because I have a feeling everybody would like to hear about the business
venture from her.” Sawyer rocked back on his heels. “What if we want to invest?”
“The budget is done for the year,” Denver said.
“We’re headed into a new year, if you didn’t notice.”
“I did.”
“Maybe we’ll want to review that.”
“It’s up to you. I’m not asking anybody to do that.” And he didn’t like the idea of everybody having their hands in it. He
liked the idea that he contributed to the ranch. That he helped. But he mostly liked to keep his own stuff . . . separate.
“Well, the floor is yours at the next meeting. I’ll be sure to introduce it.”
“Thanks.”
He reached his hand out toward Sawyer. Sawyer shook it, a bemused expression on his face.
“See you at the town hall.”
“See you then.”
He had texted Sheena and asked her to make an appearance at the town hall, and after that it had been all about the usual
work, plus preparation for the meeting. It involved a lot of grilling, because they tended to provide the meat; it was what
they did.
He actually enjoyed it. Again, a little bit of a contradiction. But that was who he was.
He expected Sheena to meet him out of the barn at Sullivan’s Point. He did not expect her to show up at the ranch house, knocking
tentatively on the door while he was out in the back manning the grill.
He walked around the side of the house, and looked at her for a minute, as she stood there on the porch, toying with her dark
hair.
He felt almost guilty, looking at her in an unguarded moment. But it was like seeing a whole new person.
She didn’t look like she was suited up for war. Everything about her was slightly softer. Her posture, the expression on her
face. She was wearing low-rise jeans and a studded belt, a short sweater that showed a bit of her skin at her stomach, and
gave a good look at her rack. So, that was right on as usual.
“Can I help you?”
She turned, and it was like a switch flipped. There was Sheena the warrior. Sheena, who didn’t take any shit from anybody,
and in fact was ready to give a shit before it could be given to her.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” she asked, hand to her chest like he’d just about scared her heart
right up out of there.
“I didn’t expect you.”
“Well. I don’t know what to expect with this whole town hall meeting. And you didn’t give me enough information. Suddenly I have to make a whole case to the collective?”
“It just seemed like the right thing to do. But I’m willing to do all the talking.”
“Hell no. It’s my business venture.”
“And it is my ranch. These are my people.” The words felt dishonest on his tongue, because hadn’t he just looked at Sawyer’s
shock and discomfort over seeing him do something that was really part of their whole thing?
He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to speak.”
“I want to. So we need to go over what we're going to say.”
“There’s not much to say. Just tell them what you told me.”
“That I’m not going to sleep with them?”
“You could tell them that.” She was being dry. He didn’t find the topic funny.
“I haven’t seen the hall yet. Maybe I do want to sleep with them.”
“I thought you didn’t do entanglements.”
Her eyes went narrow. “I guess that’s another question I have. How entangled are we with the rest of the collective?”
“We aren’t. Because we aren’t going to use their money to finance the venture. We're going to use mine.”
“I have some money,” she said.
“Save it. I’m happy to help get it launched the way that I want it launched.”
“What about the way that I want to launch it?” she asked.
“Come back here,” he said, gesturing toward her and turning, making his way back toward the grill.
“What is this?” she asked, making her way into the backyard where they had their smokers, flat-topped griddles and grills
all set up.
“This is the barbecue pit. This is where the magic happens.”
“I didn’t know that you . . . that you did all this barbecue stuff. Can I serve this at my bar?”
He hadn’t thought about it. Not really. They were all set up to basically have a whole barbecue restaurant if they wanted
to, but it had never actually occurred to him.
“I mean . . . we could. I would have to train somebody. I can’t do it all the time.”
Fellow. He did grill almost every day. It was something that he loved to do. It was something that had helped him figure out
how to take care of his family. They raised the food, and he knew how to make it. And he knew how to do it well. It mattered
to him. It had been a form of therapy in a lot of ways.
But, the idea of sharing it more broadly . . . He wasn’t sure. But he was also intrigued.
“I mean, people would pay a lot of money for this.”
“We do big grilling like this once a month for all the town halls. Hell, I was planning on doing it for the Christmas party.”
“That would be great. A good preview. I mean, you could just do a barbecue special. Whatever you want. You can have a big
grilling day, and then we could serve whatever can be saved.”
“Freezes pretty good, to be honest. Though I prefer everything to be fresh.”
“Sure. But . . . I guess I just didn’t really know that this was your thing.”
“It’s a hobby.”
“So with these town hall meetings you . . . make a giant feast for everybody and talk about business?”
“Yep. Bonfire, music. Dancing. I don’t dance.”
“That’s really shocking, Denver. I assume that you were proficient at the electric slide.”
“No.”
“You did dance at Smokey’s.”
He could pivot away from this. He didn’t have to lean in.
He did anyway.
“That is dancing with a goal, Sheena. And I am a goal-oriented man.”
She laughed. “So basically you only dance when you think it might end in sex?”
“Exactly. And nobody on this ranch . . . Not ever. I would never. I have never.”
“Interesting,” she said. “That is not the general methodology of Four Corners.”
“My co-ranchers are happy to muddy the waters. I just prefer not to.”
“I’m with you,” she said. “It’s self-preservation to my mind. I don’t need a bunch of local men sniffing around me all the
time thinking that I’m available.”
Of course. He hadn’t really thought about it from that perspective. That it would create a giant headache for her if any of
the men she saw on a nightly basis thought they could get lucky.
“I just don’t . . . I don’t need anything that complicated,” he said. “My life is complicated enough.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be if you spent all the effort you do keeping connected to everybody that your bastard father ever
wronged.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way either.
That he had a lot of connections, and maybe that was why he felt exhausted. Plus there had been his stint doing the poker
circuits out of town. He had to navigate a whole different world then. Figuring out how to be in Las Vegas, when he felt deeply
uncomfortable surrounded by neon and concrete.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“My sisters would love to come to the Christmas thing.”
“Sure,” he said. “The more the merrier. Because it makes me look like my idea was good.”
“Walk me through your whole idea.”
So he started to tell her about the point behind the Christmas thing, and how it was really a big unveiling of the event center
at King’s. How they were going to host weddings and corporate parties, birthday parties, vow renewals. All kinds of things.
“I think the barbecue is going to be a great addition. A great idea. It’s definitely something you should push.”
“I guess I’m going to add that to the docket tonight too.”
He had a good team. That was the thing. So if he had to spend a little bit more time manning the grill, it was totally possible
to do it. He wasn’t necessarily a master at sides, but his sister-in-law baked bread, and made all kinds of other delicious
things.
And it was sort of a business, so she knew how to charge for it, and had the necessary approved kitchen to do it.
The hour or so that Sheena had come early went by quickly, and he was surprised when it was time to load up for the meeting.
They got all the barbecue put in the back of his truck. “Can I drive you over?” he asked.
And he decided to ignore that it felt a little like asking her on a date. Because he had never actually asked a woman on a
proper date.
His life was kind of fucked, actually.
It was a weird and inconvenient time to sit with that.
He asked women he met in public to go back to hotel rooms with him. He didn’t ask them on dates.
Especially on the poker circuit. He had lost hold of himself there sometimes.
And if he felt that tug toward hellfire, it was only because as much as he was always walking a line in his life, he had perhaps
fallen on the wrong side of it most often then.
But he had been away from Pyrite Falls. And in many ways, away from that need to perform that he was a decent human being.
Yeah. That had been . . . It had been a whole thing.
A lot of drinking. A lot of sex. Women he knew that he would never run into again. It had made him feel free. He didn’t feel
the weight of his reputation, and he didn’t feel that nagging sense of responsibility that he had to the community back at
home.
Two weekends a month and for major tournaments, he’d been in Vegas. And no one at the ranch had any idea what he’d really
been up to. It had been his escape.
It had also been how he’d cared for that community. The money he’d taken in at the poker table had set him up for life.
What happened in Vegas really did feel like it might stay there.
Except he hadn’t counted on carrying the shame back with him.
That he was able to write a story that turned him into a version of himself he wasn’t entirely sure that he liked.
And in that sense, he had given himself a clear view that he might not be as different than his dad as he wished he was.
And maybe that was actually the real problem. The thing that kept him from getting too close to anyone here.
It was better. Better to hold himself back and hold himself accountable.
“Well, come on. Time for you to attend your first town hall.”