If not for one of the taillights in his truck being blown out, Brody wouldn’t have been walking to the hardware store to get a replacement bulb before heading over to the Lone Creek Ranch to meet with the owner for a job interview. He’d thought long and hard about what Hunter said about second chances, and his friend had been right on all counts. He didn’t want to make a bad impression when he met the boss by having a blown out taillight on his truck. Even the smallest of things could give an employer a reason not to hire him.
He hadn’t counted on seeing Tara Mitchell on his first day in Sweet. Now that he knew where her shop was located, Brody aimed to avoid it as much as he could.
Tara Mitchell. He was still reeling from seeing her again after so many years. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen hate in her eyes as he had that morning. The first time was at his sentencing, and then a second time at his parole hearing when he’d been freed from prison. Time hadn’t made it any harder to see.
Of course, Tara had every right to feel the way she did. It may have been an accident, but her brother had been killed during a fight they’d had, something that was unforgivable. Even after all these years, Brody couldn’t justify what had happened beyond the fact that it had stopped the destruction of his sister, Marie’s, life that day.
Many years had passed since then, but the look Tara had cast him from across the street just punctuated his beliefs that although he done the time, people weren’t going let him forget no matter how many people understood what really happened that day, and why Doug Mitchell ended up dead.
Brody pulled into the driveway of the Lone Creek Ranch and then parked his truck next to Hunter’s truck. Despite Hunter’s crazy notion, his friend had insisted on introducing him to Trip Taggart, the owner of Lone Creek Ranch, in the hopes of giving Brody gainful employment where it seemed hard to get elsewhere for more than a few months at a time. People got a little twitchy about hiring a convicted murderer, even if it was involuntary manslaughter.
Hunter poked his head out from the barn just as Brody got out of the truck and slammed the door.
“You made it,” Hunter said.
“Was there any doubt?”
Hunter laughed as he walked over to where Brody was standing by the truck. “When I left you, you insisted I was out of my mind and there was no earthly way I could get you out of here. So yeah, I had a few.”
A smile pulled at Brody’s face. They’d been friends a long time, long before the craziness out on the reservation had started.
“So where is Trip?”
“Up at the house,” Hunter said pointing to the main house. “He’s in his office there. Relax. You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin. It’s not like you’ve never worked on a ranch and gotten your boots full of manure before.”
“Is that supposed be my pep talk?”
“It’s what you’re going to get. Don’t worry. Trip is a good guy. If he has any reservations about you at all, and so far he doesn’t given what I’ve told him, you’ll be back in your truck and on the road in five minutes.”
“What exactly did you tell him?”
Hunter shrugged. “Everything that matters. I had to. People know Tara Mitchell around here.”
“And he still wanted to see me?”
“Just meet the man.” Hunter slapped his hand on the back on Brody’s back. Then the two men started walking, following the brick path along the back of the house to where Trip’s office was located. Trip must’ve heard the two of them talking outside as they walked and met them at the door.
“I hear you’re looking for a job,” Trip said.
He was a tall man in his mid to late forties, Brody guessed. And he was strong. He had that look about him, as if he wasn’t afraid to get out of his office and work in the barn or the field if he had to. His thick crop of dark hair was starting to gray and his skin was dark from being in the sun.
He wasn’t what Brody expected, unlike so many of the ranch owners who’d hired him over the years that had their ranches for show more than business. There were a lot of California rich that came out to Montana to buy up land and put up a pretty house that would cost a fortune in LA. Brody had worked on many of those ranches. But those jobs never lasted. Something expensive, perhaps a watch or a piece of pottery in the house, would go missing and the ranch hands would be the first to be blamed and dismissed. Without final pay, of course.
That was never a good day because if the owners had wanted to make a fuss about it and call the police, Brody could have easily ended up back in prison. He could live without the lost wages, but he wasn’t going to go back to prison. Not for anyone.
After a while, Brody wised up to the notion that these big city folks didn’t care much at all about their precious items lost when they could just claim them for insurance money. It made him wonder just how many times a watch or bracelet was “stolen” just for that purpose.
But no matter. It wasn’t his money, his life, or his business.
Brody pulled off his cowboy hat as he stepped into Trip’s office in front of Hunter. Then Hunter made quick introductions.
“Have a seat and we’ll have a talk.”
Brody walked over to the chairs across from the desk, and sat down in the one by the window and then he looked over at Hunter who was still standing by the door.
“I guess I’ll just get back to work. I still have two more horses to shoe before I call it a day,” Hunter said. Then he propped his hat on his head, and strode out the door, closing it behind him.
Trip sat down behind his desk and got comfortable in the large leather chair. “Let’s get right to it and dispense with the things no one ever wants to talk about,” Trip said.
“I appreciate that,” Brody answered as a knot in his stomach began to coil and tighten. He knew what was coming next.
“I know you did time. I also know that it was for something that some people in this town wouldn’t understand because they don’t understand the dark side of life. I won’t pretend to know what truly happened that landed you in prison. But I do know Hunter Williams and I know his past. I’ve known the man a long time, even during his dark days. And despite the troubles he’s had, he’s a fine man. He wouldn’t recommend a ranch hand, much less a ranch manager, to me unless he knew the man was fit for the job, and that he was a man of character.”
Warmth built up inside him until he was sweating. Brody was never been one for being comfortable with compliments. But hearing the words his friend had obviously used with Trip filled him with gratitude.
“Not everyone feels the way Hunter does. You should know that.”
“Hunter is not everyone and neither am I,” Trip said. “But even after he laid out some pretty harsh details, I still wanted him to bring you out so I could meet you.”
“I appreciate that, sir.”
Trip chuckled looking down at the blotter with scribble marks on his desk, and then back up at Brody. “Let’s just dispense with the formalities here. You can call me Trip. All the hands do. I know you’d appreciate this job. I’ll appreciate having you here when I know you can do the job.”
“You’re giving me a chance?”
“So it seems.” Trip sighed and his expression grew dark. “Understand the boots you fill here are big and they’re deep. Levon… He was a good man, and he was with me for a long time. He was a friend. No doubt you heard of his passing last winter.”
Brody could see the wound of losing Levon was still raw in Trip. Hunter had explained how Levon was killed by a disgruntled horse breeder who’d felt Levon had cheated him in a deal. Tenterhook, the barrel racing horse in question, was owned by Tabby Swanson, the daughter of a friend of Trip’s whom Trip had taken in when her parents had died. Tenterhook was boarded at the Lone Creek Ranch and had also been hurt, but was now healing.
Brody could see that Trip was still affected by losing his friend as if he’d lost a brother. Based on what Hunter had told Brody about Trip, he treated his ranch hands more like family than like employees.
“I have a bunk house. A few of the ranch hands live there. But I also have a small house on the property near the bunkhouse that’s meant for the ranch manager. My ranch is not as big as some of these other spreads, so I can’t pay you what some of the bigger operations do. But you’re welcome to live on the ranch in the manager’s house as part of your salary. You won’t find trouble here, and you’ll have room to work in peace without judgment. I can promise you that.”
“I appr… I won’t let you down.” Brody stood and reached out his hand to shake Trip’s hand.
* * *
Brody wasted no time at all gathering his things and packing them into his truck. He’d decided to hold off on moving his belongings into the manager’s house and instead dove right into work. There was a lot to do.
He’d spent the morning getting to know the ranch hands he’d be working with. Buck Jackson, the youngest of the crew took him through his routine working in the barn with the horses and introducing him to the ranch animals and the boarders. All the stalls were labeled, which made it easier to get to know the horses.
He took one of the quarter horses, Desert Rose, out for a ride just after lunch to get a feel for the property. Trip met him halfway on his ride and gave him a rundown of the layout. They rode along a dirt path until they reached a meadow of wildflowers.
“This is my favorite spot,” Trip said.
“I can see why.”
“When I first bought the ranch I had the bulls up here in this pasture. By the end of the season, the ground was all dug up. I knew it would come back. It always does. But my sister, Brenda, came up here and spread a whole bunch of seeds on the ground. At the time, I thought it was grass. I wasn’t sure why she was bothering. The next spring there were little pockets of flowers. That’s what she called them. Pockets of flowers. The year after that, they’d filled in more. Now it’s full of flowers and I hate to bring the bulls up here to pasture.” Trip laughed. “She’d probably have a fit I ruined all her work.”
“It’s nice. The view is amazing.”
“Well, I had no hand in that. Anywhere you go in Big Sky Country, the view is pretty spectacular. But I lucked out when I got this place.”
“How long have you been here?”
Trip thought a moment. “I’d say it’s going on fifteen years.”
“Really?”
“As I said, I lucked out when I found this place. It’s close to family. Brenda lives in the next town with her family. I’ve got some cousins not too far up the highway. I had a good couple of years on the rodeo circuit and I saved every penny I could to have something of my own one day. The ranch was in foreclosure at the time I bought it. A sad story. Of course, there were some out of state suits who’d come into town to buy it. I can almost bet my bid on the property wasn’t as high as what others offered. But the bank gave the ranch to me and I’ve made it my home. Levon was with me from the start. It was his home. Tabby came to live with us after her parents died. I knew her dad on the circuit. The Lone Creek became her home. Now it’s yours.”
Brody looked around the meadow of color and to the mountains beyond. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?
“Come on. I’ll show you the creek this ranch is named after,” Trip said.
They’d spent another hour or two riding. It was well into the afternoon when Brody headed back to the barn alone with Desert Rose. Trip had decided to stay out for a while longer. He passed Dusty bringing one of the horses in the arena as he brought Desert Rose into the barn. He’d yet to see the arena. The ranch offered riding lessons and barrel racing lessons to the locals. Trip had told him that Tabby had done most of her barrel racing training with Tenterhook here at the ranch.
Tenterhook had star quality, Trip had told him. But a devastating injury caused by the same man who’d killed Levon, forced Tenterhook into early retirement at least until his injury was fully healed.
Brody passed Tenterhook’s stall on the way to putting Desert Rose in her stall. Tenterhook lifted his head above the gate to greet him.
“You sure are a beauty,” Brody said as he passed. He opened the gate to Desert Rose’s stall and led her inside. He filled her water trough with water. Then he headed down to the stall where they kept the fresh hay and grabbed the pitchfork, taking a good mound of hay and putting in a wheelbarrow so he could fill the hay bin in the stall when he heard the sound of boots charging down the center aisle of the barn toward him.
He dropped the hay into the wheelbarrow and then poked his head out from the stall to see who was coming.
“I don’t believe it.” Tara Mitchell looked at him in disbelief.
“What?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, anger seething inside of her and threatening to bubble over the surface.
Brody held the pitchfork in his hand. “I work here.”
She sputtered. “You? Who’d give a murderer a job?”
He tamped down the pain in his gut he always felt any time anyone ever used that term. This time it was worse because it was Tara.
“Someone who was willing to give me a second chance. Trip Taggart hired me. And yes, he knows about my past.”
He knew as soon as he’d uttered the words that they were the dead wrong thing to say. Tara Mitchell wasn’t interested in giving him a second chance, not that he blamed her for it.
“My brother didn’t get a second chance, did he? Why should you?”
He shifted uncomfortably where he stood. This war would wage between them for the rest of their lives. And if he was living in Sweet, then they were bound to eventually run into each other.
But he was starting over. It had taken a long time and he had done a hell of a lot of things in his life to set himself straight and get to this point. After that ride with Trip, he could see himself digging in roots here, just as Levon had done.
He didn’t blame Tara for her anger or her resentment. But he wasn’t going to let her destroy this chance he had by making a scene.
“I know you’re upset, but—”
She threw her hands out to her side in disgust. “Upset? That doesn’t exactly cover it. He was my brother, Brody. He wasn’t some rodeo guy who had ridden into town and then left and broke my heart on his way out to the next rodeo.”
“I know that. I also know that there isn't a damn thing I can do that will take away the pain you feel. I’m sorry for that. But I did pay for my part in it. And it was an accident. The jury saw it that way and so did the judge. Hell, even the prosecutors saw it that way and asked for the most lenient sentence. The only thing they didn’t see was self-defense.”
“My brother’s still dead. He’s always going to be dead.”
“I know. But that was the road he was on long before I showed up on the scene.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “He was trying to get help. People do try to get help and they recover from addiction.”
“Tara, I don’t want to re-litigate the fact that your brother wasn’t just using, he was dealing. And worse than that he was pushing that poison on my sister.”
She took a step back as if he’d slapped her, and maybe it felt that way to her.
“Doug never would’ve pushed anything on anyone.”
“You may not believe it. But it’s true.”
Brody recalled what he’d seen that awful day. He had many chances to relive it in his mind. The incident that had made him snap and go after Tara’s brother in anger. Doug Mitchell wasn’t a well-known drug dealer on the reservation. There were plenty for any addict to choose from. Hunter had told him that many times over the years when guilt would settle itself on Brody’s shoulders. But they didn’t used to do what he’d seen Doug do with Marie.
“I saw it with my own eyes, Tara. I saw him putting the drugs into Marie’s body. I’ve relived that moment every day for the last ten years. And I’m sick of seeing it. I don’t want to see it. He could’ve killed her. Enough people considered what I did self-defense except for the fact that I kept fighting him after I pushed him off her. Him falling and striking his head on the brick, well, that was an accident. Manslaughter. I paid for it. I don’t expect that you’re ever going to understand it, much less forgive me for it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Forgive you for it?”
He talked over her. “But at least see your brother for what he was. He wasn’t an angel. None of us were back then. He paid his price and I paid mine.”
She took a step toward him and glared. If not for the fact that she was slight and at least a foot shorter than he was, it would’ve intimidated him. But he held his ground.
“Doug is still dead and you’re working here on this ranch. It seems to me you got the better end of the bargain.”
Even in her anger, she was a beautiful woman. Her long brown hair swung around and landed like silk on her shoulders as she turned and stalked down the center aisle of the barn, the same as when she’d arrived. She whipped open the outer door and then slammed the barn door shut.
Brody was sure Trip was going to hear that, even out on the ranch property. A few minutes later, he watched Dusty come through the door and let out a whistle.
“Damn, Brody. Did you cause that storm that just blew through here?”
Brody looked down at the floor, and then back up at Buck. “Afraid so.”
“Lightning Strikes and I nearly had a heart attack walking out of the arena when she blew through.”
Lightning Strikes was one of Trip’s prize horses, ready for breeding. If he’d been spooked and then injured, it would be game over for Brody. His job, his reputation, such as it was, and any chance of getting employment on another ranch within a two-hundred-mile radius from here would be gone.
“Is Lightning Strikes okay?”
“He’s in the paddock running circles. He’ll be fine in a few minutes as soon as the dust she created down the driveway clears out. Next time give us a little heads up so we can get out of the way.”
“If I had any warning, I would have let you know. But I somehow missed that storm warning myself.”