Page 6 of Tainted Empire (Sins of Our Father)

“And why not? It’s worth a lot and you can’t run a business! You went to school for-”

“I know, Mom. I know, but I can’t sell it. People’s jobs would be on the line. People with families. I can’t just get rid of all that and everything that Dad worked for,” I say, and she throws her hands up.

“That selfish bastard! I swear to God, if he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him! He’s an idiot!”

She starts rambling but I tune her out as I fidget with a string on my cardigan. I really need to start packing. I want to speed this process up and figure out a solution so I can carry on with my life as soon as possible.

“What does this mean, Ali? What are you going to do?” she asks, anxiety lacing her voice.

I look up and into her eyes, trying to put on the bravest face that I can muster up.

“It means that I’m going to Montana. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! Are you insane? We need to sit down and figure this out first, Ali-”

“There’s nothing more to figure out, Mom. I have to go there and speak with his workers, with the town. This is much bigger than you and I. Bigger than Dad. A whole town’s fate lies in my hands, and I need to figure out the right thing to do,” I say, exhaustion taking me under.

“Then I’ll go with you,” she says sternly, but I stop her.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to finish your week off and go back to work. You need rest and I won’t let you lose your job because of this,” I say, and she rolls her eyes at me, confirming that I definitely get my stubbornness from her.

“You’re my daughter, Alison. I’m not letting you do this on your own,” she says, and I shake my head.

“I have to, Mom. I’m a grown woman and Dad left this to me for a reason. If I need you, I’ll call you. I promise, but this needs to be done. By me,” I say, and tears fill her eyes.

I get up and go to her, pulling her into my arms and hugging her.

“You haven’t had time to grieve yet, Ali. You don’t need to rush this,” she whispers, and I kiss her hair.

“I am grieving, Mom. This is a part of the process. I have to do this. For Dad. I owe it to him,” I say, letting her go and sitting on the couch so I can book a flight to Montana.

Lord knows I have enough money in my account to do so now.

5

The flightto Montana is short and I spend most of it sleeping. I packed enough to last me a month, most of which is just dress pants, blouses and heels. I’m not sure how that will go walking around a muddy ranch, so I’ll definitely have to pick up a pair of boots and jeans during my stay. I can’t walk the land looking like a kindergarten teacher, that’s for sure.

I ordered a rental car near the airport and took a shuttle to the place. The car is small and red, some type of Toyota that looks like it belongs in Europe and not the rural roads of Montana, but I’ll take what I can get.

As soon as I sign the paperwork and get my keys, I load my bags into the car and type in the address of Bailey Ranch. It’s in a small town called Cannon Falls, a small town with a population of three hundred people, an hour outside of Yellowstone. It’s about an hour drive from the airport, a long way from civilization.

When I looked it up on the internet, I saw that there was only one restaurant, a bar, one boutique and a small grocery store. I never went into town when I would stay with Dad, he had everything I needed there at the ranch, so everything else is incredibly foreign to me.

I sigh and start up the car. It roars to life, and I begin the long drive to Cannon Falls, enjoying the wondrous mountains and vast lands that stretch before me along the trip. I won’t lie, Montana is breathtaking. I may be a city girl, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the true beauty of mother nature. Land and animals are abundant here, as well as sunshine and heat. I don’t have many summer clothes, since Seattle is always cold and wet, so I have a feeling I’ll be stopping at that small boutique during my stay. I can already tell they won’t carry many clothes that fit my taste, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I’m driving on mostly dirt roads now, the rental car shakes and rumbles when it hits the rough terrain. After a while, I near a fork in the road that has three signs. One sign pointing north, that heads into town. One sign pointing west, that leads to Brooks Ranch, another business that has competed with my father for many years and a small gravel path that leads to my dad’s land.

I don’t remember much about the other ranch. Just that Dad would always bitch about the owners and how they continued to trespass on his land and try to steal his livestock. I know he hated them and it always caused him frustration, but that’s as far as my knowledge goes.

I take the gravel path to Bailey Ranch and the rental car shakes violently on the rocky road. I worry for a second that the tires will blow, but I drive slow down the dangerous and winding road that takes me deeper into the mountains.

After a while, I see my dad’s ranch on the horizon. He owns about eighty acres of land. Numerous barns, stables and fields surround the large white and yellow house that sits on the hillside. There are two lakes with a boat and swimming area. I remember clearly that there was this large tree on one of the lakes that had a rope swing. When I was little, I would climb it like a monkey and swing and jump into the water until my head hurt. Dad would have to scream for me to get out of the water for dinner. It was my happy place, besides being with the horses.

I tried to learn how to ride a horse when I was younger. Both Dad and his groundskeeper, Earl, tried their best to teach me, but I was too impatient and wiggly and would piss the horses off. All except one, my horse, Bell.

Dad got her for me when she was just a little pony. I had always wanted a pony and I adored her from the start. She was beautiful and reminded me of Belle from Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales I read as a kid. She was a golden horse with a chestnut brown mane and the kindest eyes. She was always gentle with me. I would spend hours just sitting and walking with her through the fields, feeding her whatever vegetables I would find from the gardens. I’ve missed her and I know she’s very old by now, but before Dad died, he said she was healthy and in high spirits.

I near the end of the path and turn into the long driveway in front of the house. The wraparound porches on both levels give it the greatest charm, one of which has a set of double doors that lead to my old, yellow bedroom. Every time I would step out in the morning, I was greeted by the large Montana mountains and sunrise, a view you simply cannot find anywhere else.

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