Home Everlasting (Holliday Book 3) Page 3

  "My father's old habits," he repeated, muttering the phrase over and over again. "What does that mean to you?"

  She turned hard on the wheel, taking the truck up a dirt road that led away from town. She had no intention of taking him back to the ranch with her, nor did she want to give him an opportunity to jump out. An old dirt winding road through some of the steeper grades and mountainsides would help, and then eventually she could let him go back into town. "It means that you've been seen trying to find sex workers," she said. "Are you ok?"

  "Am I ok?" he repeated, trying to understand what the question meant. He mulled it over in his mind as he looked out the window at the world below. She was taking them through some of the more beautiful valley views, but now there wasn't any point of jumping out, because he would die. "I think I'm in love," he whispered.

  Lilith slowly pressed on the brakes until the truck stopped. A few feet of dirt separated the truck from the abyss below. "You're in love with who?"

  "This girl I met."

  "Who is this girl?"

  "Her name is Kelsey."

  "And what does this girl do?" she asked, her voice turning sharper and more staccato as she dragged the answers out of him.

  "She's a prostitute," he said defiantly. It wasn't her place to look down on him. He could make his own decisions. "My father never loved a prostitute."

  "You're falling in love with a girl you're paying to have sex with," she muttered, pushing on the gas, regretting starting the conversation, and wanting to be home and in bed already.

  "I haven't had sex with her," he replied, toying with the door handle. Maybe he could survive the fall down the mountainside.

  "Oh."

  "I'm nothing like my father," he muttered. "I'm nothing, at all, like my father. You weren't there. You never heard how he treated those girls."

  She glanced at him, unsure what to say. She turned in a fork in the dirt road and took them back towards town. The conversation wasn’t going the way she wanted. "What're you getting for her?"

  "I dunno. Maybe a ring of some kind. Just something to show her that this means more to me than the exchange of cash."

  "You think she's gonna like that?"

  "I dunno. Maybe I just wanna pretend like this might work out and be something nice. Everyone deserves something nice right?" he said, finally meeting one of her glances.

  Her heart poured out at him as their eyes met. She had never really seen Pistol being vulnerable and open, completely raw to what he was feeling. It had always been hidden behind hate and despair for his father, for his job, for his entire life. But this girl, Kelsey, might have triggered something inside of him. She knew it wouldn't end well, but for the moment maybe it wasn't her place to break his fantasy.

  They rode in silence back into town and she dropped him off in front of Neederlander's jewelry store. "I hope your dad gets better," he said as he got out of the truck.

  "Yeah, me too," she replied. He slammed the door, waved, and went into the store, wiping his boots on the welcome mat inside.

  Lilith looked across at the Sheriff's station again, thinking about her own fantasy man that sat inside the jail. She couldn't face him yet. She had stared at that building multiple times today, thinking what it would be like to look into his face, into his eyes, and see certainty in herself and in her future. But she still couldn't do it.

  She put her truck into gear, reversed, and rode out of town. Like Clark, she pushed Pistol and his problems out of her mind as she drove through the winding roads, remembering the hundreds of times she’d passed them before. They had a way of calling to her, not just to come home, but to forget about her mortal problems and only think of the past and the future. Things that had happened, that she could anchor herself to, and the things she hoped to happen, those wonderful things she could work towards. It was sobering, enlightening, and endearing, all at the same time.

  Soon, she saw the long gravel road, and with a sigh, arrived home.

  ~~~

  Lilith had watched the sun set on the ranch between her first and second nap. It was a gorgeous sight and one of the first ones that she could remember knowing that her father wouldn't be home later that night. He didn't enjoy leaving the ranch. He always said that something in the mountains made him come back, like a magnet. She always thought he meant it more religiously than that. Almost as if the mountains, the cattle, the ranch's upkeep was his sole purpose. Priests, ministers, reverends, pastors gave their lives to the church. Pilots cared only about the sky. And race car drivers yearned for their engines and their speed. Saul gave his life to this land.

  The sun slowly went down behind the mountains, casting the ranch in its pale yellow orange hue. She watched it from her couch in the old room down the hall from her childhood bedroom, as she thought about Clark, her continual dreams of the pink dress, and what it meant that her father was probably dying. The ranch had become home again, her friends had coalesced around her, and she wanted to be there. The outside world would still be there in a few years. Hopefully.

  She drifted off into an uneasy sleep, still wondering as she had for days: what would Aggie do?

  She was abruptly woken up with her phone ringing and vibrating under her pillow. It was subtle, and yet still shook her from her restful sleep. She threw herself over on her side, trying to fish the phone out from the folds of pillows, sheets, and blankets. Without looking at the caller, she answered it. "Yeah," she said groggily, rubbing her eyes and looking out the window. It was completely dark outside.

  "Are you awake?" said the voice on the phone.

  "Who is this? What time is it?" she asked, stretching and trying to decide if she wanted to get out of bed. She stuck her arm out of the covers, immediately realizing it was too cold to leave the couch and covers. Her eyes started to close again.

  "Zeke. I'm outside your house. Brought a friend you might want to talk to. I heard about your father, I thought I would drop by and see how you were doing too."

  Her eyes shot open. What was he still doing in town? "Yeah, I'll uh. Get out of bed. Gimme a second," she responded, hanging up the phone. The hardwood was cold against her feet as she scrambled to put on pants and a shirt and head downstairs.

  She opened the door, finding Zeke and a tall guy, clearly younger than Zeke, standing on the steps outside. Her heart caught in her throat, thinking that just this morning her father lay sprawled over them. "Sorry about that, kinda been a crazy day," she said, gesturing them to come inside. "I didn't know you were still in town."

  "Yeah, kinda set up shop here and stuff," Zeke replied. He wore a tight shirt, underneath an open sweater, that was useless against his chiseled pecks and flat abdomen. He might as well not have worn it at all. "This is one of my new employees Tommy. He's gonna be helping me with this new venture, and I thought I would bring him out here to get a firsthand look at what we're dealing with."

  "We?" she asked, skeptically. She was trying to put on a hard edge, the visit was annoying after all. It was arrogant and assuming to think that she’d be interested in anything he had. And yet, looking at him, she realized her coil of sexuality was winding tighter. His hard body, his brown hair, his large hands that he slipped into the pockets of his jeans, everything was bringing her back to the night she almost had sex with him. She forcibly pulled herself back to reality. "I wasn't aware that my father had agreed to anything with you, this ranch, or any other business concerns." She had invited him inside her home as a courtesy, not to start something with him.

  He broke out his millionaire smile and spread his arms out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I wanted to come by and see how your father was doing. I dropped by the hospital, but that old town doctor of yours wasn't very friendly."

  "Yeah, Mulreedy has a thing against nosy outsiders messing with his friends and family. In my father's case, Mulreedy is his best friend and basically family," she answered. "Why're you actually here Zeke?"

  "I'll let Tommy take it away," he said, smiling a
gain.

  Tommy wore a plaid shirt tucked into his skinny jeans and sported a trim but grungy beard and large glasses. He took out a folder and handed it to Lilith. She didn't bother opening it and instead stuck it under her arm. "Well, you can look at it later," said Tommy, laughing nervously. "So Zeke came to me with this great idea, that I just. Ya know, I just had to take it on. It's a brilliant idea. The idea was that, we have this great opportunity to skip the processing and large scale butchering of cattle if we figure out a way to pair ranches with restaurants, and try and figure out the logistics of what's needed where and by whom. Ya know? You make great cattle, and we could really figure out a way to market that. The details are in the folder."

  "I see," said Lilith. She didn't bother opening the folder. "I'll leave this on my father's desk, but I'll be sure to bring this up with him when he comes back."

  Zeke sighed and nodded to Tommy. "You mind waiting outside?" Tommy nodded in understanding, turned around, and left. Zeke turned on Lilith. "He's just a kid, you could have been nicer."

  "What're you doing here, man?" she said, trying not to look into his beautiful eyes, or see how his muscles flexed under his shirt. It was difficult. He was a good looking guy, and he kept his body in shape in a very clinical way. Every muscle was perfectly toned and shaped. Unlike Clark, whose body was shaped by work rather than a trainer.

  "I told you, I wanted to come home. I wanted to reconnect with this place. I wanted to see it all. To feel it. I'm sorry about whatever I did to make you leave. To make you angry with me. But I'm here now, and I want to make it up to you. I want to start this business thing, I want to help your ranch. I don't want to buy it. I just want to help," he replied. He clenched his fists at his side. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this sorta thing. But, I would prefer if you looked at the business plan. It's my money on the line, and I'm already working with several other ranchers in the area. Your father may not come back from the hospital, and I think it'll be your decision either way."

  "Don't talk about my father," she whispered, taking the folder under her arm and opening it. She had to admit, he seemed genuine. She scanned the contents quickly, trying to understand what she was being told. "What do you need from me? If it's your money, how will this affect the ranch operations in the short term?"

  "Nothing in the short term. We're going to do all the work for you. This is big agribusiness style logistics for small scale restaurants and retailers," he replied. "We're gonna see if we can make it work."

  She nodded. "Alright, then I'm in for the moment. But don't make any big orders or anything like that until I get a full rundown of operations from the boys."

  He turned to leave, thankful that it hadn't exploded in his face. "It's good to see you. You look beautiful, despite the stress of the day," he said.

  She blushed, pulling her messy bed hair back. "Thanks. And thanks for thinking of my ranch in your new business."

  He pawed the ground with his booted right foot, almost trying to dig a hole through the marble foyer. "Yeah, I dunno. I wanted to help you and your ranch out. But I would be lying if I said I didn't have an ulterior motive for coming out here. I wanted to show you the business plan. I wanted to see how your father was doing. But I wanted to see if I could get another chance with you."

  He looked her in the eye and something inside her melted. She couldn't be angry with him, not in that moment. When he flashed his fake smile, when he intruded on her life in spontaneous ways, then she could be angry. But now he was just a boy. "I'm kinda in the middle of a thing right now," she said.

  "You're with someone? What about the other night?" he said, surprised.

  She hesitated, not sure if she cared to reveal her life to him. She didn’t owe him anything. "Happened after and before that. And I really want to give that guy a proper shot," she said, relenting. Zeke was trying to be a good guy after all.

  His face fell, but then he nodded. "Well, when he inevitably fucks up. I know guys, we all fuck up eventually. Then hit me up, I'm gonna be around," he said. He chuckled. "And Tommy will be around too. Maybe you'll shine a liking to him rather than me." Lilith laughed and opened the door. They shook hands, Zeke nodded and smiled, definitely more genuinely, and left.

  She put her back to the door, closing it, and sighed. She wasn't completely sure how she had gone from liking Zeke, to hating Zeke, to kinda liking him again. But in that moment all she wanted was Clark, his muscular and warm arms around her, and the feeling that comes from knowing that her man had been chosen, so she could forget about all the others.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "I think I've heard about you," he said, fiddling with the loose threads on the mattress. His hands were heavily calloused and red, he wore shorts and a filthy white shirt, and he stared at Clark with a steady, unwavering gaze.

  "Honey," Clark replied, enunciating the man's name slowly, and trying his best not to inflect any sort of romance. "I think everyone in town has heard about Ricky's murder."

  "Well yes, duh. They mighta heard about that, but I know you. Yer the new guy on Holliday Ranch," he said. He had matted black hair that was slowly receding and large, mostly white, eyes.

  Honey's stare was cutting into his face, Clark decided, and turned away from it, trying to hide himself in any way that he could. "I'm sure they got some newer guys by now," he muttered.

  "Yeah, but Clark, you're the new guy who got Ricky fired and then got Ricky got killed," said Honey, his tongue glazing over his teeth, his eyes squinting with malice.

  "I didn't get Ricky killed. I was just doing my job," Clark replied, trying to make his voice cutting. He was done with this conversation and his filthy cellmate. He had tried to keep the cell to himself, but Holt only had one main holding area. He was promised some time alone outside of his lawyer's visit today. Holt had a particular hatred of Honey, and Clark could see why. He was like a parasitic worm.

  "You got Ricky killed," whispered Honey, jumping up and putting his hands against the bars. "And the worst thing, that you just don't know new boy. New boy, you just don't get it. But Ricky's got friends in this town too. Holliday ain't the only one who got friends."

  Clark's eyes darted towards Honey, fear rising in his throat. He always had a feeling that Ricky had friends, but he didn't think about any of that. He had felt there was only one option: turn the thieving bastard in. It had been an easy decision, especially after Ricky seemed to think that he could trust Clark with his bad decisions, his bad rationalizations, and ultimately probably his life. Not that Clark knew just how many friends and debtors the Hollidays actually had. Maybe he should have planned better?

  Honey took a step back, looking extremely pleased with himself, and sat back on the ratty mattress, continuing to play with the loose threads. Clark waited patiently by the bars for his lawyer, Tad, who had promised to come by that afternoon. He could see Sheriff Holt working away in his office. He got the feeling that Holt was on his side, and knew deep down that he had to be innocent. A cold blooded murder just wasn't in him.

  He had slept on the floor of the cell, dreaming of his arms around Lilith, and hoping that Honey wouldn't want to cuddle. He knew that she saw him get dragged off his horse and into the squad car. Or at least, he might as well have been dragged. He hadn't wanted to go, but he knew that's just the way it was going to be. Arguing, resisting arrest, that would just make things worse for him. And he needed Holt to remain on his side.

  But was Lilith still on his side? Was that possible? Did his second arrest bring it all onto his shoulders, instead of a misdiagnosis of the entire situation? He sincerely hoped so. He hoped that when this was all over, he could take her out and then back to his apartment, on a proper date, instead of whatever happened the other night.

  He still hadn't showered since they had sex, and he could smell her on him. Just lingering bits, they either clung to his nose or clung to his skin, and made him want her even more. He hadn't felt this kind of sexual hunger for another person in a long time, and the wan
t went so deep that it hurt to be this alone, in this cell, behind bars, with an idiot named Honey. His eyes closed, his arms slumped through the cell door, and he put his weight against the cold steel.

  "You ready?" asked Tad, shaking Clark's fingers.

  Clark's eyes snapped open. "Took you long enough," he whispered. "I've been stuck in this stupid cell with this deranged lunatic for too long."

  Tad looked at Honey and waved. "Hey Honey, you still dealin' in meth?" he asked, trying to sound sympathetic, but it came out as more of a joke.

  "You fuckin' coward, you couldn't get me off, you lyin' sack of shit," said Honey, flipping him off.

  "Did my best, too bad you left so much evidence at the crime scene that they could’ve convicted you with about a sixteenth of it," said Tad, shrugging and waving over a deputy.

  The cell was opened and Clark stepped out, a small fraction of weight lifting from his shoulders. He wasn't walking out a free man, but it still felt good to talk to his lawyer, who at least believed him.

  Tad gently put his hand in the small of Clark's back and led him towards the conference room, while nodding to the Deputies on the way. He wanted this conversation to be quick and to the point, and then he could go attend to his other clients. Even if he had been charging Clark, or any of his clients, he would want to help them save any money they could.

  Clark sat at the table and Tad closed the door, placing himself in front of it, just in case anyone decided to follow them through. The next question needed the utmost privacy. "Did you kill Ricky, your former boss, and the manager of Holliday Ranch?" he whispered, staring at Clark.

  Clark sighed and leaned forward, resting his arms against the conference table. "Fuck you," he finally replied, putting his head in his hands. "Fuck you, and fuck them, and fuck Holt and everybody. I didn't kill that bastard. I had no need to kill that damn bastard."