Chapter 3

Killian pushed back from his desk where he'd been working all morning and stretched. He'd spent the last two weeks catching up on what he had to do at Hart Brothers Ranch and making sure Larry Hart was okay with him taking off. After all, in a couple more weeks, all this bullshit would be over and he could get on with his life.

"I like to think of you as a friend as well as a hand here," the man told him. "I'd never stand in the way of you doing something like this. Anyway, my brothers and I know you've wanted to have your own place for a long time. While we'll hate to lose you, if this makes it possible, we wish you well." Then he clapped Killian on the shoulder. "And we'll help you any way we can."

Killian had had to turn away at that, choked up at the kindness of the man.

The money, however much he ended up with, would help him realize his lifelong dream of raising Appaloosas. He'd kept his dream to himself. He hadn't even told the Hart brothers. But in all the years he'd been working for them, he'd made it his business to learn everything about the company, from buying to breeding to training. Apparently, they knew him better than he thought.

As he got older, he'd brought it up to Dusty when they were together. The man, however, had never seen the value in it, and, after a while, Killian stopped talking to him about it.

Yesterday, the Walker plane had picked him up in Montana. His mother had insisted on driving him to the small airport, where the plane landed, and seeing him off. Things were still unsettled between them, and he didn't know how he could fix it. He was still hurt she'd kept such vital information from him, and he felt betrayed. The shit with Dusty-he had stopped thinking of him as his father-was bad enough, but he'd always loved and respected his mother. He just couldn't seem to get past this.

At the moment, he wasn't feeling too kindly toward either of his parents.

This morning, Lou, the cook, had insisted on feeding him a full breakfast then told him to take whatever ride he wanted from the garage. What an eye-popping experience. After picking up his jaw at the sight of the boat of a Cadillac and a tricked-out Ford F-159 truck, he'd settled on a silver SUV. Less obvious, he hoped. Marliss, the housekeeper, handed him a piece of paper with directions to the office of D. Walker Minerals, and off he went.

When he got there, only two people were in the office. According to the information the attorney had given him, they were Abby Hollister, the receptionist/secretary, and Elaine Dennis, one of the mineral and oil rights specialists. It was obvious they'd been prepared for him.

"Welcome," Abby said. "We're glad to meet you."

"We've got Dusty's office all set up for you," Elaine told him, urging him toward the office door.

"You're the king for a week," Abby teased. "You get to sit where the king does."

Killian shook his head. He was no king, and he sure didn't think of Dusty as one.

"Just give me a closet," he said. "All I need is a desk and a place to set my coffee mug."

Muttering under her breath, Elaine ushered him into a small office next to hers. He gave a short laugh when he saw it really wasn't much more than a large closet.

"This is what you asked for," she pointed out, a smile twitching at her lips.

"Where did my...brothers...work when they were here?" The descriptive word stuck in his mouth like bad whiskey.

Elaine nodded at the tiny office. "You can use this, or...Jackson used Dusty's office." She lifted a shoulder and dropped it. "You know, he really wanted you boys to step into his shoes."

Killian snapped back before he had a chance to think. "We're not ‘boys,' and if we had a choice, we'd really have nothing to do with all of this."

Abby eased back to her desk as the smile disappeared from Elaine's face.

"I'm sorry you all are making such snap judgments about the man. Maybe while you're here you can force yourself to find out a little more about him."

"I doubt it." He hauled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry. I need to mind my manners better."

She studied him for a long moment. "Out of curiosity, if all of you are so angry with Dusty, why did you agree to the terms of the will?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I think none of us wanted to be the one to screw it up for the others."

She gave a brief nod. "Okay. Well, I'd better get you started here while the place is still quiet."

Now, after a full morning of studying reports and maps and more shit like that, he needed a break. He lifted his Stetson from the hat tree, clapped it on his head, and walked into the front office.

Abby glanced up from her computer. "Going out?"

"For a minute. Just need to stretch my legs. Maybe get a bite to eat. Where do you all go, anyway? Is there someplace close by?"

Elaine walked out of her tiny office to place a folder on Abby's desk and chuckled.

"I think I dropped too much stuff on him today," she teased. "He needs to refill the well."

"Whatever you've got," Killian said, looking from one to the other, "bring it on. You don't scare this country boy. So, where's a good place to eat?"

"You could try Cubby's Creekside Café right next door," Elaine suggested. "He's a cousin to Lou, your cook."

Killian thought about the breakfast he'd consumed.

"If he's half as good as Lou, it sounds like a winner. But I think I just want a bite of something. And to walk a little."

She smiled at him, warming him with its genuineness. According to the information in the folder each of the brothers had received, Elaine had been with Dusty for a long time, longer than either of the two men on staff, and probably knew more about the business of D. Walker Mineral Company than anyone. Her light-brown hair was streaked with touches of silver, but her face was smooth and unlined. He had no idea how old she was. Somewhere between forty and sixty, he guessed. But she was spoon-feeding him the business and made him feel comfortable. He was grateful for that.

"Well, give yourself a look at Red Creek. There's a great coffee shop down the street you could try, also. It's called Heart Starter."

"Yeah?" Killian gave a short laugh. "That's some name."

"Lexie's coffee is indeed that. And her pastries taste from heaven."

"Lexie?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Lexie Choate. She owns the place."

Killian stared at Elaine who exchanged a glance with Abby and tried to conceal a smile. "Is there a joke here I don't know about?"

Abby shook her head. "Not at all. However, if you do stop there and you're so inclined, I'd love one of her honey buns."

"Consider it done."

He walked out the door, wondering if he was walking into yet another trap. His life seemed to be full of them.