Finding Him at Home (Holliday Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  Finding Him at Home

  Copyright © 2016 Sarah R. Silas

  Cover design by Melody Simmons

  All rights reserved.

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

  No part of this book may be reproduced without express permission of the author.

  All characters and events depicted are fictional.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lilith Holliday's plane landed at a small municipal airport, tucked away in the Beartooth Mountains in Montana. It was a bright and beautiful July morning, winds rose out of the southwest, and she thought she could smell Southern California, thousands of miles away.

  "Eh, Roger, thanks for the flight and whatnot," said Lilith as she grabbed her backpack and suitcase. She rarely ever saw the need for a purse, choosing instead to carry a wallet and keys, more like a man would than a city woman. She had been living in Southern California for the past few years, finishing up medical school and trying to spend as much time on the beach as possible. That was, sadly, not as often as she liked.

  But, now medical school was over and she was unsure if that life was what she wanted. It had been a difficult few years, adjusting, finding new friends, getting dumped and nearly failing a few classes. She had made it, just barely, with more than a few scars to show for the whole process. Not that she'd let anyone see those scars. They were hers to cherish. Or at least, work hard to appreciate.

  Roger Barclay was her father's oldest friend and loved nothing more than to fly Lilith anywhere she wanted or needed to go. He was edging on 65, round as a tomato and could barely fit in the pilot's seat, but as soon as he heard that Lilith wanted to come home, he rushed out of the house and gassed up his old Cessna.

  "Is my baby boy still out front?" asked Lilith, walking away from the plane. Her shoulders hurt from the flight. Every year the cabin seemed to get smaller and falling asleep on the flight seemed to get more difficult.

  "Gassed up and ready to go! See you on the homestead," said Roger. His head and left arm stuck out the cockpit window. "I'm just gonna put ol' Nancy away and then I'll be right behind ya."

  Lilith waved and found her way out of the small mountain airstrip. The field was just one small hanger and a gravel runway. On the opposite side of the airstrip was the small parking lot. Thankfully it was always free, no matter if Lilith had been gone two days or three years. How things so rarely change, she thought, weaving her way across the grounds.

  Her baby boy, a primer coated 1965 F100 was parked at the back of the lot. She liked to think it was out of the way, but since the airport had about 10 spots and they were all empty, it probably didn't matter much.

  The steering well felt cold to the touch and the cabin wasn't stuffy. She threw her bags into the bed, started the engine, and roared out of the parking lot. Her rearview and her windshield showed the view of coming home: the majestic Beartooth Mountains.

  Leaving Los Angeles without a future planned was the hardest part about coming home. She knew she should get a fellowship, declare a specialization, get a job, go abroad, anything but step back on Holliday Ranch. Her family had tended the ranch for five generations, taking care of the horses, cattle, and most importantly the land with all they could muster. As her father perpetually reminded her, it hadn't been easy, but they had done it. The Holliday men and women were fierce, he always said.

  She didn't feel fierce. At least not as fierce as her grandmother Aggie. Lilith's father Saul loved recounting the tale: on a blustery August evening decades ago, lightning struck the horse barn setting it on fire. Without thinking twice, she rushed inside to let the horses out and even saved the tack. Then she went around town, woke up all the volunteer firefighters and saved most of the barn. Lilith, by comparison, had tried her best to get out of even mucking out the horse stalls. It was difficult to fight with grandmother's memories, but Lilith had done her best by doing great in school and now becoming a doctor.

  But she couldn't lie to herself, something would always draw her back to the ranch. There would always be something about the Beartooth Mountains, their jagged nature mirroring the family's own jagged past, mirroring the small but weathered community that kept on going in these mountains day after day, regardless of whatever happened in the outside world.

  She drove through Main Street, waving at Hank Mulreedy, the town's general practitioner. He wore a plaid shirt over his thin frame and slim cut jeans with a plain black belt. They had grown close over the years, especially when Lilith had chosen his alma mater for her medical education. And just like him, she would have to choose between coming home or going back out in the world, into bigger cities, more expensive homes, and a lifestyle she was unsure she fit into.

  She stopped her truck in the middle of the road, waving to Mulreedy. "Doc! How you doin'?"

  "Just fine lady buck! You back to say hello to us old codgers?" wheezed Doctor Mulreedy. Even though he preached quitting smoking to everyone and their grandmother, he had never been able to give up the habit. Either good genetics or just good luck had thus far saved him from cancer. He slowly walked over to Lilith.

  "Yeah Doc. Just comin' home to see what's what. See if Dad has anymore money for me. Ya know, same ole same ole," she responded. While she yearned for her own sorta independence, she knew that it wasn't gonna happen anytime soon. Between college debt, her incessant love of good bourbon, and having a knack for finding the best looking boots in any store, she had a hard time of keeping money in her pocket.

  "You go easy on yer padre, ya hear me? He's gettin' on in age. Less stress the better," said Doctor Mulreedy, patting the side of the truck lightly and starting to walk back towards the sidewalk.

  "Ya know I'm a Doc now too, right? Maybe my dad would like a second opinion," said Lilith, chuckling.

  Mulreedy turned around and tipped his hat. "Bless yer heart, you best be off before you really say something stupid, darlin'. I got 40 years on yer ass." He smiled as he lit another cigarette and walked off.

  "You don't mind if I drop in to the clinic do you?" she yelled.

  "Yeah fine, whenever you get time! And say hello to the new ranch hand for me!"

  "Will do!" she said, rolling her window back up. She drove off through town, connecting back to a side mountain road. She still had an hour to go before she reached the ranch.

  Holliday Ranch sprawled an entire valley and then some, covering thousands of acres where horses and cattle roamed freely. She had been trying to get her father to start marketing his cows as free-range, grass-fed, and that whole hype. But, his answer was always the same: "Daddy wasn't fancy, neither am I." She never could argue with that logic.

  She was the only person on the road. It wound its way through these mountains, seemingly pausing every few moments as it conquered yet another rise, and then laying bare the rest of the earth below. Beautiful vistas covered the entire horizon, and then she fell back towards the river as it deepened the crevices, flexing its muscles.

  As the miles between her and home shrank, she steeled herself for the only true statement that was actually home. Over the next rise she knew what she would see: a thin, long, gray gravel road that started near the main roadway and then disappeared into the mountains. It would eventually lead straight to the main house. The house that was built by her great-grandfather. She remembered its sheer
size, a home fit more for a king, standing three stories tall and having multiple wings. It was built when cattle was king. How far the world had fallen, she thought.

  She chided herself slightly for thinking those dark thoughts. While it was built when cattle was king, it wasn't built with cattle money. Her great-grandfather, she reminded herself, had mined the hills looking for gold and other precious minerals. He grew wealthier, but in the end all he really did was pollute the rivers and nearly kill the entire herd. Lilith's father was still cleaning up that mess, as cleaning pollutants took generations.

  She reached her turn off, the familiar crunch of gravel under her truck's tires, and she stopped the truck near the sign near the roadway. She rolled down the window and patted the wrought iron sign, HOLLIDAY RANCH. It was her own personal tradition. She revved the engine and sped off onto her family property, trying to remember the words her father kept repeating, "we were given it, but it is our responsibility to maintain it, love it, and cherish it."

  #

  The circular gravel driveway in front of the mansion was filled with trucks and cars. She added hers to the lot, parking behind a bright yellow Hummer, grabbing her bags, and walking up to the front door. Even before she stepped onto the worn welcome mat, she realized that something was off.

  The air felt odd, a little too stagnant, there were too many cars in the driveway, and the thing that really tipped her off was her father's yelling voice from inside the house. She hoped that whoever he was yelling at deserved it.

  "Goddamnit! This is how you fucking treat me and the ranch after all these years?" Saul Holliday screamed. His rattling voice, a firecracker in a school auditorium, bounced off the walls of the house, echoing into the majestic wings. Not every nook of the house had held up to the tests of time, negligence, and lack of cash, but no one lived in those parts of the house anyway. The foyer where Lilith dropped her bags was marbled and reached to the roof, a cavernous and imposing entryway which her father's voice now filled.

  She followed the tell tale signs of his post screaming grumbling and came upon 50 dirty, disheveled, muscular men sprawled in the main living room and spilling into the kitchen. Most of them she recognized. When someone became a hired hand at the Holliday Ranch, Saul usually tried his best to retain them. There was good pay, healthcare, and more importantly free fuel for whomever registered their truck as a work truck.

  Lilith tapped Marty Buckminster on the shoulder. She had always liked him. They had gone to middle and high school together and he had begun working on the ranch at 15 after his folks had disowned him. Saul thought that working on the ranch would be better than trying to live in a world that would probably suck him into drugs or worse. He was muscular, smelled better than most of the guys after a day on the ranch, and much to Saul's chagrin had come out of the closet when he turned 18. Lilith and Marty had been inseparable, and they were what passed as best friends in the isolation of rural Montana.

  "What's going on here Marty?" she asked, keeping her voice to a whisper. She didn't want her father to know she was here yet. Although it would be a surprise to everyone, as the only person she'd told was Roger, since she needed the ride.

  "Holy crap Lilith! When did you get in?" he muttered back. He had the habit of speaking through the side of his mouth, which was both endearing and gave people the impression he was always grumpy.

  "Just got here. Wanted to surprise my father, but I suppose he's busy with whatever the fuck is going on here," she replied. She looked over, trying to figure out who he had been yelling at.

  "We've been having a mysterious problem for the past few weeks, and the new guy just found out what happened," he said.

  "You're fucking fired. This is what's gonna happen next, I'm gonna get the Sheriff involved, and we'll see what the fuck happens to you. You should be glad my grandpappy ain't alive. He'd have beat you senseless and scattered your body in six different counties," Saul said, trying to his keep his voice level.

  "You gonna tell me?" said Lilith.

  "I got a better idea," said Marty. "Cause I am fucking tired of standing here and watching ranch theater."

  "What?" said Lilith, confused.

  "Hey Saul! Seems like you got a little surprise, and we're gonna need to wrap this up," yelled Marty. He tapped the shoulders of the guys beside him and they sidled over, leaving a lane open between Saul and his daughter.

  "Daughter! What the hell are you doin' home?" said Saul, flustered and feeling amiss. He wore a western cut plaid shirt that spread over his plentiful belly, big belt buckle, cowboy boots, and a big Texas tie. He held a ten gallon hat in his right hand, brandishing to her with his right. "You didn't tell me you were comin' home."

  "Yeah, I thought it was a surprise, but what's going on here?"

  Saul shook his head, not saying anything. He pointed to Ricky Needlemeyer, the ranch manager. "Fucker betrayed us, honey. And now I had to fire him after 20 years on this property."

  "What happened?"

  "Gentlemen, dismissed! Get back to work. When you see the new guy, make sure he sees me later this evening, you got it?" said Saul. There were murmured replies from the boys and they all filed out of the house. Saul took out his cellphone and crossed into the kitchen, trying to get out of earshot.

  "What'd you do Ricky?" asked Lilith.

  Ricky stood in the center of the room, looking embarrassed and small. He wore a dingy white shirt tucked into faded black pants, covering scuffed boots. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, resting on his upper lip. He stared resolutely ahead and looked confused. "I think Lilith, it might be best if we didn't talk about this right now, at least until I've spoken to a lawyer," he replied.

  Saul came back into the room, looking even unhappier. "I called Sheriff Holt. He'll be here in a few minutes, why don't you stand in the foyer and wait for him. I dunno if I can trust you not to run away, but I don't give two flying fucks about you anymore."

  Ricky walked out of the room, his left leg dragging a little. "Are you hurt?" asked Lilith.

  "Ain't nothin', don't worry about it," said Ricky.

  "Yeah, I think I'm gonna take a look at that."

  "No!" said Ricky and quickened his pace out of the room.

  Lilith stared at her father. "What the hell is goin' on?"

  Saul waved his hands around for a little while, trying to put the words as delicately as possible. "A few of our cattle have been found at auctions all across the country, and some even in Canada and Mexico. Apparently Ricky's a bit of a cattle rustler, or whatever passes for one these days."

  "Oh my god. How many are we talking about?" said Lily.

  "A few. Maybe 90. 150. Something like that," he said.

  "What the fuck Dad! That's a lot of money! Money that you probably don't have!"

  "Don't lecture me girl. I'm taking over the ranch myself. No more managers. Don't you worry about it at all. You got bigger and better things to do," he replied. "Now, you gonna give me a hug or what?"

  Lilith embraced her father and immediately felt more at ease. All of her issues, troubles, and anxieties just seemed to wash away in her father's arms. It was the first place that she ever felt safe and now it was a reminder that if all else failed, she could actually come home. She let go and looked into her father's eyes. "How're you doing Dad? Doc said that--"

  "Don't you mind Mulreedy. Old man doesn't know anything anymore. He confuses the common cold with strep throat these days."

  Lilith went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "You hungry?"

  "Nah, we'll eat later. Tell me about you? Should I go get my shotgun?" he asked, chuckling. While he probably wouldn't do something like that, he often had to remind Lilith and others that he was more conservative than he often let on. He just didn't believe in actually saying anything. It wasn't his place to intrude into the business of others. His daughter was no exception. Probably, anyway.

  "Come on Dad, nothing like that. And anyway, why would I need to leave this place to ever find a guy. Y
ou got more than enough lined up for me to choose from!"

  "Don't joke like that," he replied. "These boys, they're good boys, but don't go corrupting them with your big city ways. I need them to work, not worrying about your affection," he replied. Deep down though, he really hoped she wouldn't marry one of the ranch hands. He loved each of them for the work they did for his family's land, but he always hoped his daughter would find someone from elsewhere and perhaps bring him back here. New blood to carry on the family tradition.

  "No Dad. To answer your question, I haven't found anyone. And I don't think I will either. I'm sorta in between what to do exactly," she said.

  "What do you mean by this 'in between' stuff?" he asked.

  "I mean, maybe I'll stick around a while. I dunno if any of my fellowships or other stuff will come through. It'll be a while, and maybe I wanna stay here anyway."

  Saul stared at her for a moment, before turning to stare out one of the large windows that looked upon the large stock pond outside. "You know I would never ask that from you," he whispered. "After your mother died, I don't wanna pressure you--"

  "No, no no Dad. Stop it, that's not where I want this conversation to go. I dunno what I'm doing yet," she replied hastily, trying to keep her beloved brother's memories where they belonged, dead and buried. She had loved him, but she was tired of coming home and that's what her father wanted to talk about. She didn't mean to come off brusque, but sometimes she wanted to be the center of attention.

  "Yeah, I'm sorry ladybug, I dunno why I brought it up. I apologize. You're home, this is good news. I've really missed you," he said.

  Lilith knew that she wasn't ever gonna get her father to care about the same things as she did, so she turned the conversation to something her father cared about. "Tell me about the new ranch hand. Ain't everyday you get a new ranch hand. When was the last new guy? 4 years ago?"

  "Yeah!" said Saul, instantly perking up. "He's a good boy, very loyal lad. Bigger guy, muscular. I took him on, but I had my reservations, but he's the one who uncovered Ricky's fuckin' conspiracy."