Savvy
The airplane touched down. I had my face plastered to the window for the last hour. Giddy that I was back in the States, but already missing Kosovo and my friends, I soaked up the sights.
“I expected more mountains,” I said sheepishly. I knew nothing about Montana other than it had Yellowstone Park, mountains, and cowboys. The terrain out the window could very well have plenty of cowboys, but it was flatter. I’d spotted the river valley from Xander’s pictures as the King Oil jet descended.
A private jet. What a freaking waste of jet fuel, but we were broke for a little over five more months. Saving the world was easier with a steady cash flow.
“They’re there,” Xander replied, his usual rugged, sexy self in the same blue jeans he always wore and his hemp pullover. The cowboy boots were more worn than before from his time in the country, but he’d mentioned getting another pair while he was back. “Just not so much in eastern Montana, where there’s more buttes, and we’re in a river valley. It gets really green in the summer, but brown this time of year.”
I nodded. Yeah, green was giving way to brown outside the window. I’d expected to be surrounded by buildings and unable to see the land, but the airport at King’s Creek was a little more than a few square metal buildings that were probably hangers. A parking lot was scattered with a few cars on the other side of the main building—the actual airport.
This was a small town.
“Is it bad that this is the smallest town I’ve been to?”
Xander chuckled and unbuckled himself. He stood and stretched. The hem of his sweater rode close to the top of his waistband. I waited for the tantalizing bit of skin to show, but the damn sweater was too long.
I was getting a possessive streak regarding my husband. I’d like a room to ourselves. A bed to ourselves. And the ability to be loud when we had sex. Nothing that was a necessity, but there it was. I might not know what I wanted to be when I grew up, but free to have noisy adult relations with Xander whenever I wanted was essential.
“A few of the villages in Kosovo were smaller,” he pointed out.
“We traveled through them. We didn’t stay there.” He was from here. All of Xander’s past was here. I wasn’t sure what our future was going to be like after the start we’d gotten, but everything that made him him was in this town. Where he’d gone to school, his first kiss, the roads he’d learned to drive on.
I’d never seen him drive. “How are we getting to Dawson’s?” Did King’s Creek have Uber? Did it even have a bus?
“He and one of his hired guys, Tucker, dropped off a vehicle.” He sucked in a breath and peered out the window toward the parking lot. “Hopefully it’s not Beckett’s old wheels.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “You’ll see.” Lifting his chin toward Shirley, he said, “Great flight as always.”
The flight attendant grinned, her expression indulgent, like she’d gotten to fly her kids around the world. “You always take me to the best places.”
“Taking off somewhere else after this?”
She shook her head. “Going back to Billings to be on standby. Kendall rescheduled all the meetings for the next couple of weeks. I think we might be picking up Eva and Beckett this weekend.”
Xander’s jaw tightened. Did his family stress him out that much? I’d be thrilled if I could be with all my sisters again, even pain in the ass, bossy Em. I’d taken for granted how long we’d all lived in proximity to each other. Photos over the phone weren’t the same.
My scant luggage was waiting at the bottom of the steps leading out of the jet. Xander hefted both our bags, his backpack slung over his back. I clutched mine for dear life and smelled the fresh mountain air—
And coughed. Exhaust fumes and the smell of hot tarmac weren’t fresh mountain air. I scrunched my face up and waved my hand in front of my nose.
Xander grinned. “Living with Hector and Eris spoiled us.”
Mentioning our friends sent a pang of longing through me. Their little girl had a head full of dark hair and looked like a miniature Hector. Xander and I had stayed long enough to meet the new arrival. Brady had remained behind, muttering something about helping them through the winter, but he was always watching Rina. I hoped he lasted the winter. Hard work and a woman who didn’t put up with his shit agreed with him more than the soul-sucking job hunting he’d been doing.
A man with sparse, graying hair rushed out to meet us. He wore nothing but jeans and a T-shirt and had a set of keys dangling in his hand.
“Hey, Xander. Dawson left these for you.”
“Thanks, Rick. I’ll apologize ahead of time for the noise.”
The man chuckled. “Every time I hear those pipes, I expect to see some teenage King boys. Now that you’re all grown up behind the wheel and obeying the speed limit? It’s just odd.” He rushed back inside.
Xander led me through the one-room airport and out the front doors.
I soaked up King’s Creek. In the distance, mountains were just visible in a haze. The sun was warm, similar to the weather we’d just left.
“Will it get cold here at night too?”
“Probably. You never know. We could get snow next week and then have temps in the sixties all October.” He tipped his head toward a large, obnoxious, gas-guzzling pickup in the corner of the lot. “That’s our ride.”
“Seriously?”
“Not exactly environmentally friendly. It probably gets five miles to the gallon.”
I stared at the monstrosity with jacked wheels and a row of extra lights with KC printed on each bulb. “Who’d want to drive that?”
He shot me a lopsided grin. “A teenage cowboy. Beck, to be exact. I think Dawson takes it out muddin’ and that’s the real reason he won’t get rid of it, but I guess Eva’s forbidden him from ever selling it.”
Eva was Beck’s wife. From what Shirley had said, I’d meet her soon. Xander helped me crawl up into the monster truck, then jogged around and swung in like he’d done it a million times. He probably had.
He fired up the engine and I jumped. “Good God, is it really that loud?”
He grinned and pulled out. When we hit the highway that ran to town, he floored it and the pipes rumbled, making my bones vibrate. I laughed, horrified and exhilarated. At least the truck wasn’t sitting in a dump somewhere, it was still getting used. That was the only contribution driving it had offered.
The way to his brother’s ranch was interesting—and beautiful. We zoomed past a mix of brownish-green pastures dotted with cattle and fields full of dried golden something.
“Corn,” Xander answered when I asked. “Some sunflowers.” He rambled on about whether the fields might be for a rancher’s personal use or to sell on the market. I got a quick education in all things farming and ranching but it hardly skimmed the surface.
I recalled the article he’d been writing and the pictures he’d taken. “How’s that similar to the Philippines?”
“Corn’s a staple crop there too, but sunflowers aren’t the crop there like they are here.” He explained more differences and similarities as he pulled into a long drive. At the end was an impressive log cabin. A better description might be mansion. The place was huge with picture windows, a peaked roof, and a porch meant for long nights watching the sunset and drinking lemonade.
A large barn and at least two shops were spread out on the property and surrounded by fences. Cattle grazed in a few pastures and horses in another.
“Wow. This place is huge.” Washington, DC was big. It had huge buildings and large houses. But the sheer amount of land around this one ranch . . . The buildings next to the house were as big as grocery stores. Somehow, at the same time, it had a coziness I hadn’t been expecting. This place was a home.
“It’s where I grew up.”
I could picture a young Xander careening through the lawn and toward the barn, his little cowboy boots kicking up dirt. What would it have been like? This was why I was so into the environment. I’d been so distanced from it, living in the middle of a big city, surrounded by more big cities. Any time we got past the city limits had felt precious. I swore the spaces were getting gobbled up faster than I could blink. What was once a field Pearl and I had flown kites in was now a superstore. A development had gone into the area that Em had used to run cross-country. I’d become passionate, driven—and more city bound.
Kosovo had been a revelation about what I was physically capable of. Montana was enlightening too. I loved my home, but it wasn’t my future. I wasn’t sure what that was yet, but it wasn’t living off my parents or making my home in a place surrounded by concrete.
The house was a testament to modernity, but the land embraced it. They supported each other. The people who lived and worked here did it for themselves, but also for the animals, and the land.
I’d expected a giant feed lot with cattle packed side by side. Instead, black cows, some white, dotted the pastures that stretched for miles. “Talk about grass-fed beef.”
Xander saw me eying the grazing cattle. “We supplement too. It’s hard not to with the size Dawson has, but yeah, it’s pretty damn close to free-range, organic, grass-fed meat.” He lifted a shoulder. “Plus Dawson wouldn’t feed his animals garbage. It might not be organic, but it’s well researched and good for them. The reality behind the beef industry sucks, but Dawson’s managing despite it all. A lot of ranchers are.”
Some of my classmates had been gunning for the beef industry, but I hadn’t been as interested in that as energy. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Was this the equivalent of writer’s block? Did he have photography block? He hadn’t elaborated on our late-night discussion of what he’d like to do with his money—with his life. “I’d love to learn more about it. All I’ve heard is the bad.”
“Sure. Dawson would be happy to talk about it.” He parked and slid out. I stared at him for a moment before I got out after him. I wanted him to tell me. Yet I couldn’t explain why it was so important that he didn’t shrug that off too.
A man as tall as Xander swaggered out of the barn. Cats scattered as soon as he cleared the doorframe, like they were ashamed at having been caught existing near humans. He wore a cowboy hat and a joyful grin. The man that must be Dawson clapped his work gloves together before he gave us a full-armed wave.
“Do I finally get to meet the missus?” He jogged toward us, his gait easy with those long legs.
Xander shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “I promised her that you were only an asshole on the weekends.”
“And it’s Tuesday. We’re in luck.” His brown eyes sparkled as he removed a glove and stuck his hand out. “I was just playing with some barn cats, so I recommend you wash your hand after you shake mine.”
“Okay?” I laughed as he pumped my hand.
“Nice to meet you, Savvy. Or is it Sapphire for those not married to you?” The guy was a flirt, that was obvious, but I felt nothing but brotherly love. He didn’t give me any hint that he thought I was only with Xander for the money.
“Actually, only my family calls me Sapphire.”
His grin turned sly. “Do you like them?”
“Most days.”
“Sapphire it is, seeing as how we’re family now. Come on in. The bedroom is the same as you left it.” That last remark was aimed at Xander.
He leaned down to my ear. “It’s a full bed at least.”
I giggled and Dawson looked back at us, his brow quirking. “How was the flight?”
“Long.”
“And grueling in the jet, right,” Dawson said wryly as he bolted up the steps of the porch. He held the front door open for us. “Xander said that you don’t eat much meat, so I went to the farmer’s market and scored some butternut squash and a spaghetti squash. I had to fight Mrs. Pemberly for the eggs the McKinley girl was selling, but I got a couple dozen.”
“Mrs. Pemberly still hates you for losing every library book you ever checked out.”
Dawson’s grin was unrepentant. “She’s the only lady I haven’t won over yet.”
“The only?”
Dawson lost his grin. “I said lady. Bristol Cartwright doesn’t count.”
I played the name through my mind. Xander saw my confusion and clarified, “The neighbor.”
“The still-broke neighbor cuz you tolerate Xander.” Dawson chortled and led us into a kitchen that was set off from the rest of the main floor by an island and breakfast bar. The open layout inside the house showed off the woodwork and the rustic railing running along the stairs and the second-floor landing. “What’s your poison? Coffee? Lemonade? Beer?”
“Water,” I croaked. I missed drinking water willy-nilly. Xander had mentioned that he’d never take drinking water for granted after his travels, and I understood why now.
“Mountain spring water, coming right up.” He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it at the faucet.
I wasn’t expecting anything more than water, but damn. Cold fluid wicked down my throat without the oily residue that bottled water always seemed to leave behind. “It’s good.”
“Rural water at its finest. I’ve tasted some that has a plastic chaser, but not King’s Creek water.” Dawson’s smile was so proud, and realization dawned. King’s Creek.
“Is the town named after your family?”
Xander put his hand on my back. “Yes, but both our mom’s side and our dad’s side have been here forever. The land is from Dad’s side and the oil is from Mama’s.”
I drained my glass and set it on the granite countertop. This cabin was so unlike the ones I’d spent my last few months cleaning.
I sagged at the reminder of how far we’d traveled in a short amount of time.
Xander steered me toward the stairs. “We’re going to have to catch up to mountain time.”
“Take all the time you need,” said Dawson. “The others are coming later so we’ll work cattle this weekend.”
Xander didn’t reply as he led me upstairs and carried our bags.
“I slept on the plane, but I’m exhausted.” I shot him a regretful look. “I’m afraid I might replay my first night in Kosovo.” I’d fallen asleep so hard he could barely fit himself into the bed and then I’d slept fifteen hours.
“It’s not a problem. You get used to the jet lag and having to adjust in new and unusual places.”
How much did I want to get used to it? What kind of career would I have, traveling that much?
Xander stopped at a door midway down the hall, set down the suitcases, and opened it up. His childhood bedroom. Our place for the next . . . I didn’t know how long we’d be here, or where we were going next.
This was his life, the way my husband lived. It was the way I was now living. And I’d learned enough about myself during the last six months to know that while I enjoyed traveling, and I appreciated having the ability to go where I wanted, I wanted a place to call my own. And I was afraid to have that talk with Xander.
Xander
The rolling gait of Fool’s Gold under me was its own therapy. As a teen, I’d taken off on him for hours, sometimes the whole day, after fights with Dad. Today, Dawson was with me, and he hadn’t stopped talking. No wonder I always took off alone.
“Beck and Eva are flying down on Friday. It’s just them. Her brother’s been down a few times. Good guy—I almost talked him into a job.”
“Doesn’t he develop apps or video games?”
“Yeah, but it can be pretty sedentary. He takes to this stuff like a fish in the stock pond.”
“Do you need the extra help?”
Dawson lifted a shoulder. “I’m thinking about bringing a third person on. There’s always more work to do.”
I nodded and kept riding. I’d gotten up early enough to help Dawson with chores. Savvy had still been sleeping when we’d gotten back for breakfast, so Dawson and I had saddled up the horses. Riding through our land loosened the tension that had built the closer the plane got to King’s Creek.
Dawson squinted in the sun and adjusted his cowboy hat. “What about you? What are you doing for work?” At my side-eye, his grin was unrepentant. “Might as well practice your answer. You know everyone’s going to ask.”
“Everyone” being my other two brothers and Dad. “Odd jobs here and there while I take some pictures.”
“Where’s your camera?”
“In my room where it won’t get dropped in some pasture.”
Dawson tsked. “Didn’t realize it was a sensitive subject.”
“It’s not.”
“What odd jobs then?” The wry note in Dawson’s voice was enough to set my teeth on edge. He thought my photography was a sensitive subject and maybe it was, but only because no one understood it or what it meant to me.
“I just got done helping a buddy expand his outdoor business—hiking and camping and stuff. Savvy helped clean cabins and I helped build a couple more. Then we both did guided tours.”
“How are things . . . with the wife?”
“You mean are we going to stay married for a year so the bastard next door doesn’t get the money?”
“Obviously, I want you to be happy.” He adopted another crooked grin, his body swaying with his horse.
I chuckled. “I get it. But the trust wasn’t a huge motivation behind my nuptials.”
Dawson cocked a brow. “Love at first sight?”
“Something like that. It was convenient for both of us, but at the time, there wasn’t much I wouldn’t have done to be with her longer. That doesn’t change that we’re still getting to know each other.”
“Just make sure you don’t fuck up until after you’re thirty.”
“Oh, I plan on spending all my Valentine’s Days with my wife. But you know this means it’s your turn.”
Dawson shuddered. “Don’t start. Grams is already on me.”
That made me grin. Dawson was the baby, destined to be the favored one. He was the youngest, so when Mama had died, while losing her hadn’t hurt him any less just because he’d had less time with her, Dad’s behavior after had bothered him the least. “Less than a year and you don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“I don’t get out of King’s Creek that much. All the single women in town are either married already or single for a reason.”
“There’s dating apps.”
“I use them for sex.”
A cough escaped. What else had I expected? I cleared my throat. “You need to get out of King’s Creek more often.”
“I was kidding about the apps. It’s not worth the hassle.” He gestured to the cows grazing in the next pasture. “These ladies keep me busy. What can I say?”
We reached the edge of the pasture and gazed across the ravine. Our fence ran along the edge. Our land technically extended past it on the other side, but right in the middle of the trees and the small valley that flooded in hard rains was the border of our land and the Cartwrights’. Old Danny never would’ve allowed us to fence on his side.
Dawson squinted into the trees at the lowest point of the ravine. “Aw, hell. He lost a cow in that mess.”
The bloated body of a cow that was long past dead was slumped in the shadows. Danny never fenced off his side of the damn ravine, and it cost him precious cows. Cows equaled money. Cows were profit. No wonder his ranch was tanking in so many ways.
I slid my gaze to my brother as he glowered at the lost cow. It had probably broken a leg slipping down the side to get some water. “You gonna let Bristol know?”
“Gonna let her know to fucking water her herd better. That stock pond is probably nothing but mud and it’s driving them out here.” He pulled out his phone. Why Bristol hadn’t blocked his number, I didn’t know. They probably kept each other’s number just so they could text and rub it in when the other fucked up.
I turned my horse around. Dawson sent off his message. Neither horse needed much guidance to get back home.
As we neared the house, I groaned. A familiar plain black Mercedes sat out front. “Is that Grams’s vehicle?”
“Of course. She can get a two-for-one. Make sure you and the wife are going to get along until after Valentine’s Day, and pester me about who I’m seeing.”
Dawson was never seeing anyone. He had a girlfriend in college but she’d refused to move to rural Montana. After that, he dated, but never anyone for long, claiming it wasn’t easy to find a woman who tolerated rancher’s hours.
I was glad I didn’t have that problem. I just had to hope my wife didn’t mind not having a home.
We rode to the barn and swung down.
Dawson jutted his chin toward the house. “Go on, save your wife. I got this.”
“Thanks, man.” I handed him the lead rope and walked as fast as I could without running. Grams might think something was wrong if I came running up to the house—something wrong between me and Savvy. Grams wasn’t an overly nurturing grandparent. Her motto in life was rub some dirt on it and quit crying.
I didn’t care that I smelled like fresh air and horse sweat. It was as natural to me as breathing, but Savvy might think differently. Maybe I could get her on a horse while we were here.
Savvy was at the dining room table, her hair wild around her shoulders, still blinking sleep out of her eyes. She smiled and nodded at Grams, who sat across from her, but I knew the dazed look well. People often wore it around my grandmother. She was a force and not everyone was ready for her.
“Grams,” I greeted warmly. It was nice to see her—and not have to avoid her for the first time in several years.
“Xander!” Grams’s voice boomed through the main floor and probably bounced off the doors of the upstairs bedrooms. She rose and straightened her suit coat. Her gray bob was sleek, not a single strand would dare be out of place.
She rounded the table and held her arms out. I met her halfway and was encompassed in a hug unlike any I’d ever gotten.
“I’ll be damned, kiddo. Congrats. You did good.”
I smiled and hugged her back, but her compliment fell flat on my ears. I did good? Grams wasn’t the warm, fuzzy kind but she’d never said that to me. Never. To be fair, I’d hadn’t done much to earn a “You did good,” but she’d seen my pictures, murmured something like nice, and moved on to another topic of conversation.
Figuring why it bothered me was easy. “I didn’t think you’d say that until after I turned thirty.”
Grams clapped my shoulder. “The first hurdle is over and Sapphire seems delightful. Gentry’s told me about her father.”
Savvy cupped her hands around her water glass. “She says she’s not going to hold it against me.”
I chuckled and moved toward the kitchen. “You hungry?”
Savvy winced. “I missed breakfast.” She glanced at the clock on the oven. “And lunch.”
“No problem. I’ll make us both something. Dawson’s never short of food. He’d be a chef if he wasn’t a rancher.”
Grams waited until I was back from washing my hands to say, “You’ve been dragging your wife around the world. Where are you going to settle down?”
I tensed at the fridge. “My work takes me to different places.”
“Photographers have homes.”
I opened the fridge and dug out eggs and cheese. I could make a simple omelet. Grabbing some ham for my own omelet, I withdrew with my armload and closed the fridge. Photographers with thriving businesses had homes.
“You can’t drag Sapphire all over with you.” Grams never let a subject die a quick death. “You’re newlyweds.”
“We’re still exploring options,” Savvy answered, her tone lacking conviction. I looked at her but her tense smile was aimed at Grams.
Grams nodded. “You’ll have a lot more after you’re married for a year.”
Why did everything have to come down to that damn trust? I wished I could go back in time and ask Mama what she’d been thinking. Had she been terrified that we’d grow up wild men and end up lonely? That we’d end up crusty old ranchers who were more dangerous to themselves and others, like our neighbor? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t wait until the trust was distributed and all I had to do was sock it away. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but like I’d told Savvy—I wasn’t a planner.
I gave Grams my most indulgent smile. “You’ll be one of the first to know where Savvy and I decide to settle, Grams.”
A pleased look crossed Grams’s face. I liked to think she had more interest in her grandkids than whether or not we could keep the money she’d made off the sale of part of the oil company. No one had to ask whether she regretted gifting the money to Mama for our future. Once she’d learned of the trust’s restrictions, she’d been trying to rectify it ever since.
I was cracking eggs when she said, “Your father and Kendall are on their way.”
“What? Now?” Shit. They lived in Billings and it was only a couple of hours away. “Aren’t we doing cattle this weekend?”
“He wants to visit you.” She beamed at Savvy, who sat stiffly in her chair. “He said he didn’t have much time to talk with you in Las Vegas.”
That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I exchanged a look with Savvy. Her expression was so hopeful. She thought that if I confessed to Dad, he’d forgive me and it’d be like we had a fresh start to our life together. Dad wasn’t obsessed with the past. He wanted me to answer for my present and future. I had to tell him at some point. But later was better than sooner, like after I’d paid him back.
The next moment, several people piled through the door and I clenched my hand around the spatula.
Looked like it would be sooner after all.