Page 127 of Cruelest Contract
“I’ll take care of it,” I tell the kid and walk off to the tack room to grab my saddle.
Fort waits patiently outside until I lead Omerta out. The grumpy stallion grunts when I hop on his back but he’s clearly eager to be outside and he quits resisting pretty quickly.
We take the trail to the creek and let the horses stop for a drink. All that rain has raised the water line to the edge of the banks. Any higher and we’d be dealing with a flood.
Fort is ideal companionship when you just want to gulp the scenery and let your mind stray. Tye would be talking my ear off. Getty would be testing my patience. Fort is the only one of us who is content to simply be outdoors. He’s ideally suited to simple ranching life but there were always other plans for him, and for all of us.
To this day Tye has no idea that the only reason he was temporarily released to pursue his pro hockey dreams is because I persuaded our father to let him go. Getty bounced right backhere after a short university stint and if he had other ambitions then he’s never shared them with me. Fort would have stayed happily immersed in the ranch if the family business hadn’t required him to learn other skills.
“Part of a beaver dam,” Fort points out when we’ve meandered a little farther down the creek.
A sizable clump of mud and sticks floats by. Somewhere upstream there’s a really pissed off beaver that just saw all his hard work destroyed.
We’re only a few hundred yards from the cabin where Cecilia and I spent our short honeymoon. I can see the exact spot where we had our very X-rated picnic.
Damn, those were fun days. I regret that I couldn’t give her more of them.
Fort and I amble along the creek with only bird chatter breaking the silence for another couple of miles before turning back. It’s still early and I want to have breakfast with my wife.
My peaceful mood takes a hit when we clear the trees and I spot a hulking figure clad all in black. He must have watched us set out earlier and now he waits by the driveway on the east side of the house, observing our return.
Fort turns his head to check my reaction. It doesn’t take a genius to sense the waves of anger radiating from our father’s tense posture. When we get closer, Cass Tempesta steps up with his cold eyes fixed solely on me.
Omerta perks up with excitement over the sight of his owner and I dismount when I’m twenty feet away. Addressing my father from up here on horseback won’t be well received.
“Let your brother take the horse,” he says to me. The tightness in his voice is very familiar but not usually fired in my direction.
Fort has now climbed off Emmett’s back and he reaches for the reins. He doesn’t say a word before leading both horses away.
I wait until Fort is out of earshot before confronting the stormy look in my father’s eyes. “How about we go to your study?”
His eyes narrow. There are flecks of silver in the scruff covering his jaw. “We’ll talk out here. I don’t want your mother to hear this.”
Fuck, I hate when he does this, speaks as if his wife is truly still living and breathing instead of buried just beyond the hill to my right.
I think of the first time Cecilia ever stepped into his study and heard him speak to a painting. She was shaken to the core. But then she quickly buried that emotion to play along with the charade. I was deeply impressed with her that day.
“All right, we’ll stay here,” I say, careful to remove any shred of sarcasm.
He appraises me in penetrating silence for an uncomfortable moment before speaking. “There’s plenty of talk that you’re not ready for prime time. Luchese was particularly salty when you walked out on the summit.”
I grind my teeth to squash the anger before responding. “My wife was injured. I had to leave. Since when do we pander to constant troublemakers like Vincenzo Luchese?”
“Luchese’s not the only one talking. As for Cecilia, she was in good hands.”
“She needed me and I wasn’t here.”
“You had a job to do. Instead, you can’t even sit through a meeting. For fuck’s sake you aren’t even on top of this situation with your in-laws. The Grimaldis lack the muscle to keep their own territory under control.”
“It’ll be dealt with,” I snap. “I’m aware of the risks.”
“You better be. I damn well taught you how to handle your responsibilities.”
“And I fucking dare anyone to suggest I don’t fulfill them.”
He rasps out a dark chuckle. “Sulk all you want. That’ll convince the bosses your head is screwed on straight.”
“I don’t owe any of them explanations. None of us do.”
