Her eyes were gauging my response. Something told me my answer meant everything.
“Life,” I said honestly. “The ebb and flow, the rush and the shitstorm, the highs and the lows. You ever had a situation you couldn’t figure a way out of?”
Instead of answering me, she pointed a few feet away from us where a man—the very man I’d driven out here to see—was on his phone.
“That situation for me would be my father.”
“That man is your father?”
She nodded. “You know him?”
“Not exactly.”
I introduced myself, and told her my family’s ranch neighbored Benjamin Henwood’s bar.
“Did your dad ever mention that name to you?”
“Of course. He’s the man my dad wants to ruin,” she said softly.
“That’s right. The thing is, Mr. Henwood is a good man,” I said. “Yes, he’s had some problems with alcohol, but he never would have flirted with a woman if he knew she was taken.”
“That’s not what my dad said. But he tends to exaggerate. And I always thought my mom might have omitted some details. Important details from what happened.”
Shit. “He’s like family to me,” I said. “I’m…let’s just say his daughter and I are very close.”
“How close?”
“If something happened to him like what your father is planning, it would kill her. And I need to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’ll do anything to protect her.”
Her eyes brightened. “So you really need my father to let this go.”
“Understatement.”
She pursed her lips and went silent.
I raised my eyebrows. “Where y’all from?”
“Manhattan.”
I grinned. “What in the hell are y’all doing in Big Bend?”
She giggled. “Daddy’s originally from Texas. He’s an oilman. We’re taking a little vacation after he had some meetings throughout the state.”
Now that makes sense.
She whispered then, so softly I could barely hear her, “That problem I need to get out of? I think you and I can help each other.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “How so?”
She leaned even closer to me and started whispering again. And as I listened, I thought?—
Hell, this may actually work.
53
Macey
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