“I’m on my way, Dad.”Just like you commanded.I dared not say the words lest I get into a vicious argument with my father. After the longer than anticipated drive from Billings, the last thing I wanted was his usual words of condemnation.
I hadn’t left early enough.
I hadn’t called him when I’d left.
I hadn’t sounded thrilled at the notion coming home for God knew how long but would end up being too long.
That’s because he was right. I wasn’t thrilled but, in a way, I felt I had no other choice but to return home. The timeframe was yet to be determined. Doing so was the only decent choice. Absolutely, I could have stuck it out in Billings where I’d built my life, holding my head high while searching for another job after being fired from my old one. Staying in cheap hotel rooms.Eating ramen noodle soup. But for how long? Until my money ran out?
However, no matter how progressive Billings was in comparison to Missoula, it was still an old boys’ town regarding communication. My firing was as close to internet news as there could be. Add in that my boyfriend had dumped me in the same twenty-four-hour period and I’d been tainted. Unhireable.
Unlovable.
Ugh.
My guess was that the hometown gossipers had already received the news. Forget the internet. The old Missoula cronies picked up the phone and held conference calls with each other to spill the tea. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t use Zoom so they could share horrible photographs. While only five hours away from where I’d grown up, the distance had kept my father from just dropping in on me.
That and his struggle to maintain his wealth.
And the nasty fight that had been our last communication.
Here I was, coming home with my tail between my legs. Oh, hell, no. What I’d accomplished in a few years was substantial.
Yes, it was. I’d racked up a ninety-seven percent win of my cases in court. So why was I chastising myself again? The ache of the job loss was real, especially since my termination had been politically motivated, but the disappearance of a boyfriend in my life wasn’t that big a deal. We’d grown apart, becoming more like roommates than anything. Early on, I’d overlooked his catting around, which had been a big mistake.
After confronting him, we’d tried to make it work, slowly falling back into the same routines.
That had been fine given our busy work schedules and that we mostly liked each other.
Then he’d met Emily and everything had changed.
She didn’t like having an almost ex-girlfriend living in the same condo where she was canoodling with the man I’d once believed could be the one. So I’d been ceremoniously asked to leave. Timeframe? Twelve hours.
The call from my father had seemed like fate intervening. But coming home to Missoula felt more like I’d suffered failures. My dad had certainly already tossed out a few barbs while pretending to be supportive. In confessing, I’d fed into his insistence I come home and save his bacon.
Well, he hadn’t used the last words, but I’d sensed his desperation.
Coming home was a bit like being forced to face the Hatfields and McCoys. There were two powerhouse families in town and since I’d been a child, they’d been at odds. The Becketts and the Sterlings. I was from the Sterling end, my father ceremoniously trying to run the town, including the city council. The Becketts came from old money, certainly more beloved and refusing to sell my father land he’d coveted for years.
No one had ever mentioned why the feud had started. There’d been some alluding to land issues, but I’d always had a feeling the anger suffered between them was personal.
My brother and the youngest and wildest of the Beckett sons had become friends even though both had been forbidden by theirfathers from seeing the other. That hadn’t stopped them from forming a bond. Or indulging in criminal acts for that matter. Our household had often been embroiled in scenes that would remind someone of the O.K. Corral.
The reason the feud had interfered with my life was much more personal, which caused a portion of the angst that nearly suffocated me.
I’d fallen madly and hopelessly in love with the resident bad boy and youngest Beckett brother. On the day I’d turned eighteen, I’d made my feelings known. Stephen Beckett had been the epitome of the bad boy, long dark hair and dreamy blue eyes that could easily capture a girl’s heart. Rough around the edges, he’d driven a hot sports car, had a killer smile and a way with the ladies.
To make matters worse, he’d become a rodeo champion at age fifteen. A star on the circuit, his popularity had been in the stratosphere when I’d left for college. Even now, I was tingling all over just thinking about him. Yet the taste left in my mouth was bittersweet given our last interaction. I really had no good reason to return home.
What I couldn’t understand was why he’d forfeited his career, turning to firefighting.
Why, oh, why was I being forced to endure even a moment of the past? The answer was simple. Because I was headed home against my better judgment.
And because I had a bad feeling at some point I’d run into Stephen Beckett. If I did, I’d give him a piece of my mind. Again.
Now, my teeth strummed my bottom lip for the umpteenth time as images of Stephen’s face popped into my mind. Nope. I wasn’tgoing down memory lane any longer. The man was like all the rest, a womanizer. I’d just been dumped by one. Why bother indulging in fantasies regarding another?
Tires that needed replacement rode over the rough road with one jump after another until the sharp edge of one incisor skewered my tender flesh. Drops of blood filled my mouth, the tangy taste adding to my sour mood. Perfect. Just perfect.
