Chapter Ten
Wade
"Yo, Wade!" Blaze shouts when I step out of the west barn, motioning at me from the trail leading toward the main offices. "Hudson wants to see you."
Fuck my life.
I hesitate midstep. For a split second, I consider turning right back around and heading back into the barn. Hudson can't boot me off the ranch if I keep avoiding him, right? Yeah, no. I've put off this conversation long enough.
No use continuing to avoid it.
I dust my hands on my pants and then stride toward Blaze, who looks solemn for once in his life.
"He say what it was about?" I ask, falling into step with him.
"Nope," he says. "But Dillon is in his office, so I'm guessing that has something to do with it."
"Motherfucker."
Blaze slaps me on the back. "Go handle your shit, man. It'll be fine."
"Says you," I mutter.
"He hired my wife when she was running from the law," he reminds me. "The fact that you spent a few hours in a holding cell isn't as big a deal as you think it is."
Easy for him to say. He doesn't have a ring burning a hole in his pocket. He and Morgan are already married. How the fuck am I supposed to provide for Harlow if Hudson gives me the boot? I don't know…and that's precisely why her ring is still in my pocket instead of on her finger.
I need this shit settled. But I'm also worried as hell that it'll end with me unemployed, unable to provide for her. Or, worse, me in jail. Hell will freeze over before I ask her to take care of me. Her life is finally on track. I won't be the thing fucking it up.
She deserves better than that.
I'm sweating by the time I make it to the main building.
"Hey," Morgan chirps, grinning at me from—naturally—the very top of a ladder. I don't know if she's dusting the shelves or reading, but Blaze is going to lose his shit.
"Blaze is going to lose his shit if he finds out you're up there," I tell her, my hands planted on my hips.
"Who's going to tell him?"
"Me, unless you get down."
She scowls at me like she wants to set me on fire. "You know what? You guys were way more fun before I got pregnant. I can't wait to have this baby so I can teach her to help me terrorize all of you. We're going to be unstoppable."
"You already are," I chuckle, holding the ladder as she waddles down. No fucking way am I leaving her up there. She's clumsy. She's six months pregnant. And Blaze will kill me.
"You're lucky Harlow likes you," she grumbles when her feet are firmly planted on the floor. "If she didn't, I'd probably have Letty poison your breakfast."
"Harlow is going to marry me."
"Only if you ask."
She has a point there.
"Wade! Stop fucking around and get in here!" Hudson shouts through the closed door to his inner office.
"Son of a…"
"Good luck," Morgan says, patting me on the arm. "Don't die."
I mutter a curse, striding that way. There's no point in knocking since he already knows I'm here, so I stroll right in. Hudson is leaning against the window behind his massive desk, his sleeves rolled up his forearms, scowling daggers at me.
His office is a lot neater since Morgan started working as his assistant. Nothing is stacked in the corners. Reports are neatly filed. There are even fresh flowers in a vase on the table.
Dillon is perched in a chair across from him, smirking.
"When the fuck were you planning on telling me that you got arrested last week?" Hudson growls.
"Dick," I mutter to Dillon.
"Don't blame me," he says through laughter. "It's not my fault your dumbass didn't tell him. I assumed he knew."
"I didn't," Hudson says.
"He didn't," I say at the same time.
Dillon just shrugs like that's not his problem. I swear to God, someone is going to shoot him in the ass one day, and I'm going to post up in his hospital room, just so I can enjoy every minute of his misery.
I turn to face Hudson, a knot of dread sitting like lead in my stomach. "You firing me?"
His brows furrow. "Why the fuck would I do that?"
"You fired the last guy who got arrested."
He stares at me for a second, and then laughs abruptly.
"The last guy got arrested for trying to buy heroin from an undercover cop, Wade.
Of course I fired him. You aren't the last guy.
You aren't a closeted drug addict. And you don't do stupid shit.
" He pauses, shooting me a disgruntled look. "Usually."
I relax slightly.
"Not telling me that you were arrested for hitting Palmer was stupid. What the fuck is going on?"
"He was running his mouth about my girl," I mutter. "I didn't appreciate it, so I handled it."
Hudson grunts, his eyes narrowing slightly. He's never much cared for Palmer, or for men who disrespect women. Hudson is one of the good ones.
"You forgot to mention the bar fight," Dillon supplies, oh so helpfully.
"Bar fight?" Hudson's right eye twitches.
"How have you not been shot in the ass yet?" I grumble, shooting Dillon a dirty look.
He just grins, shrugging.
"There was a bar fight, too?" Hudson growls.
"Yes." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Palmer called Harlow a cocktease. I handled it."
"Jesus Christ," Hudson mutters. "What else have you been handling?"
"That's about it."
"Well, that's a damn lie," Dillon mutters. "He's had me running all over creation this week, trying to build a grand larcency case against Palmer."
Hudson mumbles something under his breath that sounds like a prayer for patience. But let's be honest, he's never had very much of that.
"And how is that going?" I ask Dillon. "Considering you won't return a goddamn phone call." I've been trying to reach him all week to check in. My first court date is next week. I'd really like to be able to not go to that.
"I'm here now, aren't I?" Dillon asks, eyeing me levelly. "Palmer was arrested this morning. Once he was in cuffs, we executed a search warrant of his ranch. Found all kinds of interesting shit."
"He's in jail?"
"Yep." Dillon grins at me. "We had a buddy call him up, offer to sell him a stolen tractor. You'd think he'd have had more sense than to jump on it after you threatened to expose him, but you'd be wrong."
"He went for it?
Dillon nods. "Let's just say, he was not thrilled when Linc opened the back of the truck, and Palmer saw Easton and me instead of the tractor he just paid for."
"Jesus," I mutter, a weight falling from my shoulders. The prick is finally in jail, unable to point fingers or lay the blame on anyone else. He won't be a problem for Harlow anymore. I can finally get some fucking sleep.
I can ask her to marry me.
"What about my charges?" I ask.
"Prosecutor is filing to drop them as we speak," he says. "In exchange for his cooperation on that matter, they'll knock a few years off his sentence."
"How many years?" I growl, more than willing to go to fucking trial if it means he doesn't get let off. I'll gladly do my damn time if it means he does his somewhere far away from Harlow.
"Not enough to do him much good," Dillon reassures me. "He's still going to prison."
My shoulders droop, relief hitting me in a current. Fucking hell. The prick is finally going down. I've still got a future here and a way to provide for Harlow.
"Way too goddamn much happens around here without me knowing," Hudson complains.
"On your ranch or in town?" Dillon asks, his head cocked to the side. "Because I can't do shit about what happens on your ranch, but if you want to know what happens in town, feel free to take my badge off my hands. I've been trying to get rid of the damn thing for years."
"Might as well give that a rest already," Hudson says. "You can quit when you die." His gaze comes to me. "You good?"
"Depends. Are we good?"
"Depends. You got anything else you need to tell me?"
"Shit, guess so," I mutter. "As soon as we're done here, I'm going to find Harlow. I'm asking her to marry me. I'd prefer it if she lived here with me, but if that's not in the cards, I'll be moving to her place."
Hudson stares at me for a second and then grins, shaking his head. "Ask her to move in, Wade. Bishop won't be using your cabin much longer, anyway."
"What? Why?" He hasn't said jack shit about moving out of the cabin. Hell, he hasn't said much about anything lately, at least not to me. But I'm pretty fucking certain there was a girl in his room the other morning.
Hudson just shrugs. "Not my story to tell."
Well, goddamn. Guess I'll just have to wait Bishop out then. Right now, I have more important shit to do.
"We done here?" I ask, glancing between Hudson and Dillon.
"Yeah, we're done," Hudson says.
"We're good," Dillon mutters.
I turn for the door, and then pause, turning back to Dillon. "Appreciate you handling this shit. You could have just ignored it, but this town is lucky as fuck you aren't the kind of guy who does that. And that's why you won't ever get rid of that badge."
"I fucking know," he groans. "Believe me, I'm mad as hell about it, too.
I could be retired, chasing my wife around all day.
Instead, you assholes have me running all over creation every goddamn week, dealing with some new bullshit.
In my next life, I'm coming back as a rock.
Don't gotta say shit, do shit, or deal with shit. I can just fucking sit there."