Page 60 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“Just more bullshit,” Mitch scoffs. “We seem to know her better than you, buddy. How long were the two of you together?”

“A year. We shared a home. We shared a life,” Jake insists. “I may not have been specific about what I did for a living, but Melissa was aware. She loved me anyway. She stuck by my side.”

Ethan interjects. “None of us is buying any of this. It just doesn’t track. You got any more bullshit up your sleeve, or are you just about done?”

“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here,” Jake says. “I came to the ranch to warn Melissa.”

“No, you came to tell her she needs to cough up the moneyyouowe the Esparza cartel,” I say. “And now, you’re trying to do what, exactly? Win us over? Lie to us in order to put a wedge between us and Melissa?”

“I’m actually hoping one of you might do the right thing and give her the money,” he replies.

Mitch stifles a chuckle. “And then what?”

“She gives it to me, and I broker a peace agreement between her and the cartel. They’ll listen to me, especially if I have their money.”

“Hold on. Let me see if I’ve got this straight.” I laugh, shaking my head. “You want us to fork over two million dollars in cash. You want us to give that money to Melissa, so Melissa can hand it over to you, so you can get the Esparza cartel off her back. Is that it? You’re the one who’s gonna save her?”

“I was always going to be the one who saves her,” Jake sighs. “I don’t know what your deal is with Melissa, but I love her, and I always will.”

I would no longer blame Ethan if he decided to just blow this bastard’s head off. In fact, I walk back to the truck and take one of his rifles out. Jake immediately freezes, his eyes wide with shock and horror.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” he mumbles, shaking like a leaf.

“I’ve had enough of this,” I say, raising my weapon.

Mitch’s and Ethan’s focus shifts to me. My patience is about to run out, and everything my brothers and I discussed over the past few days is quickly fanning the flames of my anger. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep Melissa safe and here with us.

“Don’t shoot,” Jake says. “I’m only trying to save her.”

“No, you’re trying to profit from an ugly situation you created,” I say. “The way I see it is you have two choices, and only two. You either get back in your truck and leave the state of Nebraska altogether, or I will pump you full of lead and thus remove one problem from Melissa’s life.”

Jake stills, narrowing his eyes at me. “You’re fucking her.”

“Careful,” I warn, pointing the rifle at his head. “I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.”

“Alright, alright!” Jake scoffs. “I’ll leave. For now. But you have to talk to her. You have to help her. The Esparza cartel is not known for their patience or their mercy. They’ll want to make an example out of Melissa if she doesn’t pay them back for the cocaine she lost.”

“Jake, they’ll make an example out of her even if she does pay them back,” I reply. “Now get the fuck out of here before I do what my brothers really want me to do.”

“Just think about it,” he says, then carefully backs away and gets back into his truck.

Ethan, Mitch, and I watch as he fumbles with the keys until he manages to get the engine rolling. He drives away, wheels slipping along the battered snowy road.

“He’s not as slick as he thinks he is,” Ethan concludes.

“Nope, but he is desperate. And there’s nothing more dangerous than a cornered animal,” I remind him, then look at Mitch. “Let’s try option number one first.”

I leaveDarla and Sammy with Melissa at the house, though we don’t share the details of our encounter with Jake. Mitch and Ethan get Kyle and Jason to help them with what’s left of today’s snow shoveling duties, while I drive into Long Pine.

Jake Miller’s return is a bad omen, a sign of worse to come. Despair can make men crazy, and if Ethan’s physical aggression didn’t teach him a lesson, nothing short of death at our hands will. In order to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, however, I need to talk to Sheriff Kavanaugh.

I find the sheriff in his office, comfortable in his chair and nursing a mug of black, unsweetened coffee, frowning as he checks the news reports. His bullpen is almost empty, except for his secretary, Rhonda, who types away at her computer.

“Hey, there, Colt,” Kavanaugh says as soon as I walk in. He doesn’t set the coffee down, nor does he sit up straight in his chair. In fact, he doesn’t move a muscle as I take a seat in the guest chair across from his desk. “What brings you around? The neighbors givin’ you grief?”

“No, sir, everything’s good in that sense,” I reply, nodding at the many empty desks behind me. The phones ring, but every call is routed to Rhonda’s desk. She answers each call with a nasal voice, asking people to stay calm and let the authorities do their jobs. “You’re a little undermanned here, I see.”

“Well, yeah,” Kavanaugh sighs. “All my deputies are out on the road. You’d think the good folks of Long Pine would know to stay indoors after a blizzard like the one we just had.”

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