Page 17 of Dark Side of the River

“From what I’ve heard, she’s still in serious condition,” Holden said, but should have known that wasn’t his son’s concern.

“What was she doing on our property?” Treyton demanded. “Don’t you think we should get some answers?”

“I think we should all pray that she survives,” Cooper said.

“Because you had something to do with her getting shot?” Treyton wanted to know.

With a sigh, Cooper got to his feet. “It’s been a long day. If you’ll all excuse me.” He started out of the room.

“Cooper’s right,” Holden said. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Treyton pulled an angry face. “We don’t get any say about who you let into this house? Cooper leaves for two years and you just welcome him back with open arms. Have you forgotten why he left?”

“Treyton—”

“Well, I haven’t. Now he might have killed another woman—”

“Stop!” Holden hadn’t meant to yell. “I never want to hear you say that again. Cooper is your brother. He’s back. Let it go.”

Treyton shook his head. “You’re making a huge mistake.” With that, he stormed out of the room.

“Guess that’s it, then,” Duffy said as he walked out. “I’ve got a date.”

Bailey was still looking at her phone screen.

Holden appealed to her, hoping to have at least one member of his family backing him. “I was hoping you’d make this transition easier for Holly Jo.”

His daughter looked up and smiled. She was beautiful. Spoiled rotten, but he only had himself to blame. “If you think we’re going to do each other’s hair and sit on my bed and talk about boys, you’re delusional. She’stwelve. Just tell her to stay clear of my room,” she said, getting to her feet. “I catch her in there and there is going to be trouble.” With that, she walked out.

“Great,” he said to the empty den. In a way, things had gone better than he’d hoped. He told himself that he would pick up Holly Jo tomorrow, bring her back, get her settled in and then deal with everything else.

Every day seemed like a battle to save not just the ranch, but this way of life. Lottie was making it more difficult. After what had happened yesterday, he figured things were going to get much worse.

With that cheerful thought, he poured himself a drink and told himself that maybe having a tween in the house was exactly what they all needed... Bailey was right. He was delusional.

COOPERDIDN’TGOstraight to his room. Instead, he went for a walk around the ranch as twilight deepened. The late-June night was clear and warm. Stars began to pop out overhead. A sliver of silver moon peeked out from behind the rugged silhouette of the badlands to the east.

As he walked along the river, he noticed that some of the leaves in the nearby cottonwoods were already starting to turn. Usually, it took a frost. This year it was the drought. He noticed how low the river was and now they’d lost one of their largest producing wells.

The ranch couldn’t survive without water. A few more hot summers, no rain, more drought and he wasn’t sure what they would do. He thought about Bob Turner and his mother’s ranch. The Montana 360 Ranch had plenty of water. It would be a good addition to the McKenna Ranch if it came up for sale. But there would be competition for it, Charlotte Stafford the biggest one since that land fit nicely next to the McKenna and Stafford ranches like a missing puzzle piece.

He’d seen the worry in his father’s face. Hard country made men tough, according to his father. Cooper disagreed. He thought it made them hardheaded.

There was no one more stubborn than his father or tough and determined. Cooper had seen that steely look in his eyes. He wouldn’t give up this ranch without the fight of his life—even knowing that it was going to kill him.

He remembered the night he’d left here two years ago. His father had followed him out to his pickup.

“You’re just going to turn tail and run?” Holden had demanded.

“I know when I’m defeated,” he’d said, tossing in the duffel. “Do you?”

His father had shaken his head. “Only cowards run.”

Cooper had laughed. “Or smart men who know better than to beat a dead horse.”

“You’re talking foolishness. You’re a McKenna. We don’t quit. We don’t run. We take a stand.”

“Is that what you did thirty-five years ago when you married Margaret Smith for her ranch?”

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