CHAPTER 42
Cal
I look out from the kitchen to see Jasmine and Victoria huddled at the piano together, singing and giggling, and think this is probably how it is for Finn all day, every day.
Because in the last ten minutes, I’ve listened to the soundtracks to maybe three different Disney Princess musicals.
I think I’ve heard references to mermaids, ice kingdoms, and a tale older than time, but it’s hard to keep it all straight.
As if she feels my gaze on her, Victoria turns and gives me a little smile.
The delicate necklace sparkles against her skin, its tiny gemstones catching the light.
I can't imagine it would look more at home on any other woman's neck. Though I’d seen the piece long before we’d ever met, she was made for this necklace.
Like she was made for me.
I feel a lump in my throat. I need to keep in mind that what I have with Victoria isn’t forever, despite what the Disney lyrics might say.
I think we made it pretty clear to each other that she’s going back to San Diego and I’m staying here and that’s how the story ends.
I plan to enjoy every last second I’ve got with her, though, no matter how few they may be.
And anyway, I don’t really know her. Most of the suspicions I had about her motives are long gone.
Enough time has passed for us to really get to know each other, the good and the bad.
The ranch is bringing out the best in her, and I’m grateful I’ve had the chance to be there when it happened, but it's not real. It can’t last.
But dammit, in the back of my mind, I’m thinking I might make the biggest mistake of my life if I let her go. Maybe there’s another way. Since Victoria is the beauty and I’m pretty much a beast, would anybody blink an eye if I locked her up in my house?
I throw the roast in the oven and laugh to myself. It’s tempting. Tempting but not the least bit honorable.
I’m washing off the asparagus and humming to a song about colors of the wind, whatever the hell that means, when I see movement on the back deck.
It’s Finn, poking his head into my line of sight, holding a finger up to his lips.
I give him the universal expression for “what the fuck?” and he motions for me to come outside and shakes his head to let me know he doesn’t want the musicians to know about his arrival.
All this clandestine shit is way out of character for Finn, so I decide to play along.
All of a sudden I’m struck with a horrible thought—has something happened to Dad?
“Hey, ladies,” I keep my voice perky as I head to the back door. “I’m heading out for just a minute. The roast is in the oven, but it shouldn’t need to be messed with. Be right back!”
“Okay, Uncle Cal!” Jasmine calls out.
“We’ll be right here,” Victoria says.
The instant I’m on the deck, Finn grabs the sleeve of my shirt. “Let’s go.”
“Is this about Dad?”
“What?” He scowls. “No. Is something wrong with Dad?”
“No. Not that I know of.”
“Good.”
I laugh. Maybe Victoria is right; the MacLaine style of communication isn’t exactly conversational. “Then what’s all the drama about? Are the zombies on the loose or the Knights of the Templar sacking the castle or some other stupid shit from one of your video games?”
He scowls at me, clearly not in the mood for being teased about his gaming hobby. “Let’s go.”
I’m getting a really bad feeling about this. As we jog down the gravel lane between houses, I ask, “So where exactly—”
“Evander’s.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine.”
It’s a damn good thing we’re nearly there. Finn’s about as chatty as one of our prized Angus cattle.
We’re headed up the steps to Evander’s just as Phoebe Travis exits the front door. She’s in her nursing scrubs and a pair of running shoes, her hair piled on her head in a messy bun.
“Hey, guys!” Her face lights up when she sees us.
“How’s your favorite patient?” I pause on the front porch for a moment to be polite. Finn excuses himself and goes inside. “Is he doing all right? Is there an issue?”
“With the patient’s health or his attitude?” Phoebe laughs.
I’ve always liked her. Our emergency room encounter was the only time I’ve ever seen her be anything other than cheerful and smiling.
In other words, Phoebe Travis is the opposite of Evander MacLaine.
And I’ve always wondered if she might have a crush on my middle brother, since they say opposites attract.
“See you later!” She places a friendly hand on my arm before she runs down the steps and heads to her car. She gives me a big wave before she drives off.
I find Evander and Finn at his dining room table. Evander’s got his leg propped on a chair. When he looks up at me, his words don’t match his serious expression. “How’s it going over there onboard the Love Boat?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s going on?”
Evander and Finn exchange a glance. I don’t like this. Not one bit. And I’m not going to just stand here and ask them to pretty please let me in on the secret.
“What the fuck is going on? Tell me now.”
“We’re waiting for Declan and Special K.” Evander has his hand resting protectively on a file folder and the laptop beneath it.
I frown. “Do we need to be in the SCIF for this?”
Evander shakes his head. “This isn’t a StellaR Tech issue. Why don’t you have a seat?”
The front door opens, and Declan and Special K come running in.
“This better be good,” Declan says. “I have a date tonight.”
Finn laughs. “If it’s a day that ends in Y then of course you have a date.”
“Enough.” My voice cuts through the bullshit. “I’m not sitting down and I’m not waiting another second. Tell me—what the fuck is this about?”
Evander shrugs. “Fine. But let’s take this in my bedroom because my leg is killing me.”
Declan grabs the file and laptop and Evander hops on one leg to his bed, and immediately props his cast on several pillows, from hip to ankle. Even if I hadn’t seen Phoebe at the door, I’d know she’d just been there.
Fresh flowers are in a vase on the nightstand, and Evander’s room is unnaturally tidy.
Evander opens the file and sets it by his side, then opens the laptop. “So, I was going through the signed BLM contract.”
The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “What about it?”
“We have a problem, Cal. Why don’t you take a seat?” Evander points to the armchair by his dresser.
“No fuckin’ thanks, bro. What’s wrong with the contract?”
He lifts the document out of the folder. I see a little red sticky note on the edge of one of the pages.
“Just tell him,” Finn says.
Declan sits on the foot of the bed, a deep frown on his face. I feel Special K right next to me, his giant arms folded over his chest and his body tensed. We’re circling the wagons. I brace myself for whatever is about to happen.
“We’ve got a big damn problem. We could be in danger of losing access to about a quarter of our total acreage, and unless I’m wrong, and I’m never wrong, someone has just launched a cruise missile over our back fence.”