Chapter 1
Jesse
My stepfather was dead.
It was raining in the cemetery, and the small group of onlookers were bundled up under their umbrellas. A casket sat suspended above an open grave, the spray of roses now drenched with heavy autumn rain. There was a chill in the air, the kind that came to Montana when the threat of winter is close at hand. But my thoughts weren’t about rain, or cold, or the breath fogging in front of me as the pastor said his bit.
Jack Nelson, the only man I’d ever known as my father, was dead. And I’d never gotten to say goodbye, never got to apologize for all the wrong I’d done him. And now I never would. All the family I’d ever known was dead.
Excepthim.
I glanced to the right, noticing the devastatingly handsome man at the far end of the group, the one that had made frequent visits into my teenage fantasies. He wore a black suit drenched with rain, water dripping from his black cowboy hat. Maybe he wasn’t bothered by the rain, or maybe he just didn’t care. After all, it was his father in the casket, the man he’d known his entire life. I couldn’t tell if he was crying or if his eyes had just alwaysbeen that blue. But one thing was for certain; Cole Nelson wasnothappy that I was there.
Then again, why would he be? The last time I saw him was nearly fifteen years ago when I left Hell Creek for what I thought was the final time. The last thing I saw as I drove away was Cole in my rearview, tears of anger and frustration running down his face as his father tried to staunch the flow of blood from his broken nose. That day they learned that I could fight too, that I wasn’t just some whiny little kid anymore.
It’s funny… in the moment it had seemed like such a triumph, like I’d finally grown into a man. But looking back on it now, it didn’t feel as good. It was the last time I’d ever seen my stepfather alive. I didn’t regret putting Cole in his place that day, but Jack deserved better than that.
The pastor’s voice faded to a distant hum as I watched Cole across the grave. His jaw was set hard, muscles flexing beneath his stubble as he clenched his teeth. Fifteen years had changed him. The boyish rancher I’d left behind had become something else entirely. He was harder and darker now, with tattoos peeking from beneath his collar and cuffs. His shoulders were broader, his stance more commanding. Everything about him screamed that he owned this place, this moment, this grief.
He’d never looked better.
And that hard facade didn’t crack as the pulleys creaked, the casket slowly lowered into the ground. Rain poured down around us, the wide-open skies of Montana a never-ending sea of gray. This was Hell Creek’s legacy. Ranching, death, and an endless sky.
I shifted uncomfortably as the service concluded. People began to disperse, murmuring condolences to Cole as they passed. No one approached me. Most probably didn’t even recognize me anymore.
“Didn’t think you’d show,” a gravelly voice said behind me.
I turned to find Mack Hollister, the town’s hardware store owner and one of Jack’s oldest friends. He’d aged considerably, his weathered face now a roadmap of wrinkles.
“Jack was my father too,” I replied, the words feeling strange in my mouth after so many years of denial.
Mack’s eyes narrowed. “That so? Coulda fooled me when you disappeared without a trace. Cole’s been running that ranch single-handed since you left. Nearly killed himself doing it.”
The guilt I’d been fighting twisted deeper. “I didn’t know?—”
“Course you didn’t. You weren’t here.” Mack glanced toward Cole, who was now standing alone by the casket. “There’s gonna be a reading of the will tomorrow at ten. Jack’s lawyer’s office in town. You planning on sticking around for that?”
I hadn’t planned on staying more than the day, but something in Mack’s tone made me hesitate. “Should I?”
“Let’s just say Jack had some... specific ideas about his legacy.” Mack patted my shoulder. “The old hotel’s still open if you plan on stayin’. Though, knowin’ you, I won’t get my hopes up.”
I stared at the old man as he walked away. It was becoming increasingly obvious that I wasnota popular person in this town anymore. That was probably Cole’s doing. He did always like to make my life difficult.
As if on cue, I felt someone’s gaze burning into me. When I looked up, those ice-blue eyes locked with mine across the muddy cemetery. Cole’s expression was unreadable, but the tension in his body told me everything I needed to know. He still blamed me… for leaving, for not being there when Jack got sick, for showing up now when it was too late.
And he was right to.
I should have been here. I should have swallowed my pride years ago. But I’d been too stubborn, too hurt, too damn afraid offacing what I’d left behind. Not just the ranch or my family, but my own truth that I knew none of them would accept.
Cole turned away first, his eyes releasing me like a predator reluctantly abandoning its prey. He moved toward the parking lot, people parting around him like water around a stone. Even in grief, he commanded respect, something I’d never managed to earn in this town.
I stood there until everyone was gone, until it was just me and the rain and my stepfather’s grave. The cemetery workers waited at a respectful distance, shovels in hand, ready to finish their job once I left.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I whispered, the words swallowed by the drumming rain. Too little, too late.
I trudged back to my rental car, mud caking my dress shoes. City shoes had no business in Montana soil, and the rain was quick to prove that. As I reached for the door handle, I spotted Cole’s black pickup still idling in the lot, steam rising from its exhaust in the cold air. He sat behind the wheel, staring straight ahead, not acknowledging me even though I knew he’d seen me.
For a moment, I considered approaching him. What would I say? Sorry I kicked Dad in the face? Sorry I abandoned you both? Sorry I never called, never wrote, never came back until there was a body in the ground?
