Page 8 of Tainted Empire (Sins of Our Father)

Claire likes the change in discussion because her eyes light up with pride at the mention of her daughter.

“She’s out in the field, should be comin’ in any minute now. A few of our cows are pregnant and one of them has been havin’ a hard time, so Marley’s been assisting them and has been doin’ a damn good job, too. That girl is such a hard worker, always has been-”

“Oh, Mama, would you stop with the braggin’! You’re gonna talk Ali’s ears right off!” Marley yells as she walks into the kitchen and gives me a big smile.

I haven’t seen my friend in years, but as soon as I do, I’m reminded of our summers in the fields together. She’s grown into a beautiful woman. Her wild, curly, blond hair is tied back into a neat braid that stops at her butt. She is tall and slender, like a model, and her eyes are big and bright.

“Ali, I missed you,” she says with warm eyes, and we hug each other tightly, even though she smells like horse manure.

“Mmm, you smell like Mama’s cookies and rich girl perfume!” she says, and I laugh as we pull away.

“I’m not gonna lie, Marley, you kinda smell like shit,” I say, and she throws her head back with a laugh.

“All a part of the job, girl. When’d you get in?” she asks and I yawn.

“A few minutes ago, but it’s been a long day,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.

“Well, you better chug that tea cause it’s about to get longer. We’re goin’ out tonight, girl, it’s been too long!” she says, and I smile as Claire scoffs.

“Marley, let the girl settle in. She’s had a long day of traveling and she needs to get some shut eye, not fall asleep in a barrel of booze!”

I sip my tea and shrug.

“Actually, a gin and tonic sounds great right now,” I say and both women stare at me before exploding in laughter, confusing the hell out of me.

“Did I say something funny?” I ask and Marley wipes a tear from her eyes.

“You city girls and your city drinks. I don’t think you can find tonic anywhere in this town, let alone good gin. We go whiskey and beer, but we’ll try our luck at Danny’s,” she says and I raise an eyebrow.

“Who’s Danny? I thought we were going to a bar…” I ask and Marley rolls her eyes before grabbing me and pulling me up.

“Danny’s is the bar, baby girl, and we’re going there as soon as I change out of horse shit. Be back in ten!” she says before grabbing a bag and running to the bathroom down the hall.

“That girl is damn lucky she’s got a good head on her shoulders, otherwise I may just slap the need to party right out of her,” Claire says in exhaustion, and I smile fondly, missing the warmth that this place brings, but still finding myself waiting for my dad to walk in the door, even though I know that it’s impossible.

7

Marley drivesus to the bar in her big, blue Chevy.

It’s brand new and I don’t want to ask how much it is, because I know my dad must have been paying her well and I worry about how she’ll continue to pay for this now that the ranch is in my hands. I try to brush the thought away, needing a drink to evaporate my worries.

We pull into a small parking lot that has a building that looks more like a shack. A bright red sign lays on the top and blinks the nameDanny’srapidly. Marley grabs my hand and leads me inside.

I look around and feel like I’ve stepped back into the times of the wild west. Danny’s looks like an old saloon, with one pool table and a dartboard. There’s a bunch of people in farmer’s clothes inside and they all turn and stare at us. I feel a blush rise in my cheeks.

“What are they looking at?” I whisper to Marley, and she chuckles.

“Definitely not me,” she says and pulls me to the open seats at the bar.

We sit down and the bartender walks to us with a smile. He’s probably in his thirties and he’s got the whole country boy vibe. He’s wearing a red flannel shirt with Wranglers and cowboy boots. A toothpick hangs out of his mouth and his shaggy brown hair falls to his brown eyes.

“Well hey there, Marley. Who’s your friend?” the bartender asks as he places his hands on the bar top and leans towards us, the country music blasting in the background.

“Danny, this is Ali, Alison Bailey. Arthur Bailey’s daughter,” Marley says and Danny immediately looks at me with those same sad eyes that I’ve seen from just about everyone I’ve been around in the last month.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ali. And I’m real sorry about your-”

“It’s no big deal, really, thank you, Danny,” I say, cutting him off from the same apology that plays in my ears like a broken track.

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