support; he’d damn well show it in front of her father. Sitting beside her, he draped his arm behind her shoulders. Then he kissed her temple and set his booted feet on the coffee table, like he always did.
Tierney hid her smirk behind her wineglass.
Gene Pratt did nothing so crass as scowl, but disapproval rolled off him. “Where exactly do you see this relationship going?”
“With all due respect, that is between me and Tierney.”
“But you aren’t so naïve to believe this relationship will continue once Tierney returns to Chicago.”
“I’m not returning to Chicago.”
It was all Renner could do not to turn and gape at her. Seemed Miz Straightforward hadn’t been so forthcoming.
“And I told you I wouldn’t accept your resignation. Your six-month sabbatical is nearly up.” He swirled the cognac in the snifter. “Besides, you have been doing work for me while you’ve been on personal leave.”
“Freelance work. I billed you accordingly. Your accounts payable department paid me accordingly.”
“Are you still in a snit because of Steven?”
“Are you asking if I’m still upset that you promoted Steven instead of me? Not because he was more qualified—I have three advanced degrees in finance to his none—but because he was born with balls?”
Her father gaped. “Tierney. What is wrong with you?”
“What? Women aren’t supposed to say balls? Or they aren’t supposed to act like they’ve got them?”
“Is there a point to this crudity?”
“Is there a point to this surprise visit to Wyoming?” she countered. “I’d like to hear it.” She held up her hand, warning, “And please don’t use a bullshit excuse like you missed me.”
“Fine. No bullshit. I came to see how this training opportunity was working. Does your Mr. Jackson know what you’re giving up to play cowgirl resort proprietor for a few months?”
Nice. Now the asshole was using his presence to rile Tierney.
“No. But I’m sure you’ll tell him.” She drained her wine. “Don’t forget to put all those dollar signs you’re so fond of in front of your answer.”
Gene Pratt focused on him. “I’ll admit I gave Steven the position in my company Tierney wanted. It wasn’t out of spite. It was because I’ve always had a higher station in mind for her.”
Tierney went motionless beside him.
“Awarding the position to Steven was a test for her. If she accepted my decision as what was best for the company and didn’t question it at all . . . then I knew I could count on her loyalty—almost to a fault.”
He leaned forward. “But Tierney didn’t accept it. She forced my hand by invoking the clause that allowed her to choose an oversight position for training purposes. Then she turned in her resignation and set out to prove she doesn’t need my company to be successful. That’s exactly the type of person I need steering my company. That’s why after she’s been seasoned a bit, in five years or so, Tierney will take over PFG as CFO.”
Her body vibrated with anger. “You’re lying.”
“No, dearest daughter. I am not.”
Silence.
Renner did not want to be dragged into this family drama. Needing a distraction, he frowned and pulled out his phone. “Excuse me. I missed this call and I need to get right back to him.” He dialed his voice mail box, waited and said, “Bixby! No, not bad timing.” He opened the front door and let it slam, then pressed himself against the inside wall. They wouldn’t speak freely with him in the room. Gene Pratt wouldn’t stand by and let his brilliant daughter settle for a livestock contractor with shit on his boots, in Nowhere, Wyoming. As much as it pained him to admit it, maybe it wouldn’t be best for Tierney to settle for it either.
Tierney didn’t hold back. “I cannot believe you’d come here and spew such lies. Giving Steven that job was not a test. You did it because you wanted to show me that you control the company. That blood—whether we share it, or whether I spill it to scrape my way to the top of the heap—means nothing to you. I was unhappy. Unhappy working for you, unhappy living the life I thought I wanted.”
“I can see why you’d be miserable. Living in a million-dollar condo overlooking Lake Michigan. A hefty stock portfolio. A position in a top company, which you’re well compensated for. And the ability to pick and choose whatever pet project struck your fancy. Like this one.”
This was a pet project for her?
“You own my condo. I started my own investment portfolio when I was eighteen with my inheritance from my mother. My salary was twenty-five thousand dollars below the national average for my educational level. And I wasn’t allowed to pick projects until after I handed in my resignation, Dad, so try again.”
Pratt sighed. “My point is, you might be happy here temporarily, enjoying thumbing your nose at me, but you won’t be happy for the long term.”
“You don’t know what makes me happy.”
“And neither do you,” he retorted.
“Yes, I do. I found it here.”
Renner’s heart absolutely turned over in his chest with love for this woman.
“You’ve found happiness with him? What will happen when the cowboy charm wears off?”
“It won’t. Renner is the real deal. He loves me in spite of my privileged background.”
“He loves you because of your privileged background,” Pratt said with false sympathy. “You’re the gravy train and he’ll ride you into the ground.”
“He’s not like that. I love him. I love the life I can have here. There is nothing you can offer me that would change my mind.”
“You sure about that?”
Tierney’s laughter held a sour tone. “In fact, you could offer me the CEO position, your job, right now, with the multimillion dollar salary and I’d turn you down. Flat.”
Silence.
“You’re brainwashed. This is not you talking, Tierney.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. This is me, the real Tierney, the person I’ve discovered myself to be when I’m here. Whether or not I’m with Renner. I love the work I’m doing, being part of the community. So don’t you dare denigrate it. I don’t need your approval, because for the first time in my life, I don’t care.”
“You’re willing to walk away from everything you’ve known? Everything you’ve worked for?”
“Yes.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe that after you toiled to earn all those advanced finance degrees, you’d give up a chance to put those theories into practical application. You prefer to be in Wyoming, worrying whether the guest in room four has enough clean towels?”
Direct hit. Renner almost heard Tierney deflate from that sharp jab.
“This place won’t make you happy for long. We both know it. You need to use your mind, not let it atrophy.”
Renner slammed the door and strolled around the corner, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Sorry. What’d I miss?”
Tierney stood and grabbed Renner’s hand. “Nothing. We’re done talking. I was just telling my father we’ve still got to unpack.”
“Fair enough.” Gene Pratt rolled to his feet. “And I’ll warn you to tread lightly on ultimatums as I’ve no patience for them.” He smiled at Renner. “Have a good evening, Jackson.”
“You too, Pratt.”
“Good night, Tierney.”
As soon as he shut the door on the room down the hall, Renner said, “Tierney? Baby, are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“C’mere.”
She willingly went into his arms. His kiss on her forehead became a soft smooch on her eyebrows. The corners of her eyes. The corners of her smile. Then their lips met fully and he ached to see this vulnerable side. He wanted to reassure her that it’d all work out, but he worried they’d just seen the tip of the iceberg where Gene Pratt’s determination was concerned. The icy mountain below the surface was always far scarier and able to inflict more damage.
/> Chapter Thirty-four
The front door slammed with enough force it rattled the dishes in the china cabinet.
Abe remained where he was, shoving each carpet sample against the wall, trying to decide which shade of brown looked better when he couldn’t tell the fucking difference and didn’t really give a shit. Janie should’ve been home hours ago to help him decide.
He lined up all eight samples in the middle of the empty room.
Thump times twelve echoed to him as Janie stomped down the stairs.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Working. Why?”
“You could’ve called. In fact you should’ve called and I hate that seems to be an option with you lately. I didn’t need to sit around and worry about you.”
“Who asked you to worry about me?” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t pull this ‘where were you’ macho bullshit on me, Abe. I didn’t like it back then and I sure as hell don’t like it any better now.”
He bit back his less than flattering retort. His gaze dropped to her hand, which clutched a very large tumbler of whiskey. “Bad day?”
“You have no fucking idea.” She knocked back a big gulp. “So, not only did Gene Pratt of PFG show up out of the blue, but as I was trying to explain why neither his daughter nor Renner was around, guess who strolled in, holding hands, and dropped a fucking bombshell?” She answered her own question. “Renner and Tierney. And get this, they’ve been secretly screwing around since before Thanksgiving.”
Abe said not one word.
“When I got pissy, rightfully so, Renner had the balls to accuse me of being oblivious. He said I was about the only one who hadn’t figured out that he and Tierney were involved. Seriously involved. Like in love and shit.”
He knew by the gleam in her eye she was about to ask the question he didn’t want to answer. But he’d be damned if he’d lie.
“Did you know?” she demanded.
“Officially? No.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s not the answer you want. If you’re askin’ me if I knew they had feelings for each other? Then that answer would be yes.”
“How?”
“Jesus, Janie. All’s I had to do was look at them. They kept their hands to themselves in public, but they sure as hell couldn’t keep their eyes off each other.”
She snorted. Knocked back another drink. “So I’m the village idiot. Awesome.”
“You’re not happy for them?”
“Not at my own expense.”
That sounded cold. “Are they firing you?”
“No.” She paced to the door to the bathroom and back. “But Mr. Pratt is right. How can I not feel betrayed that they couldn’t trust me enough to let me in on their secret? I worked with them. Every damn day. I’m mad as hell.”
“Are you mad at them or mad at yourself because you didn’t figure it out?”
Janie stopped. Faced him. “How is any of this my fault?”
Abe raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa. It’s not your fault. Why does there have to be blame?”
“I blame them because they made me look like a fucking idiot in front of the man who holds my future in his hands.”
“I thought I held your future in my hands.” He’d attempted a lighthearted tone but didn’t pull it off.
“Don’t even start with me, Abe. This”—she gestured to the space between them—“was temporary. You knew that.”
“Did I? So I should also assume things couldn’t change? Just like you assumed things wouldn’t ever change with Tierney and Renner?”
She scowled. “Don’t be an ass.”
“This Pratt guy. Why does he hold your future?”
“Hello? He’s head of a corporation that has dozens of properties across the globe. With my interior design work and hospitality training I’d be a great asset to his organization. I’m not tied down, no family, so I can go anywhere at any time.”
The “no family” comment stuck in his craw and knocked the hope right out of him. “Did Pratt offer you a job?”
Janie stared into her glass. “I have a preliminary interview with him tomorrow.”
“And if you pass the prelim? Then what?”
“Then I fly to Chicago for a final interview with the department head.”
His voice was remarkably calm. “That’s it then? Does Renner know you’re bailing on him?”
“Can you blame me after what he and Tierney did to me?”
“Oh, for Christsake, grow up,” he snapped. “Yeah, it hurts when you find out someone you were close to hasn’t been completely up front with you. Guess what? That’s life. You gonna cut and run every damn time that happens?”
“That’s not fair. I never committed—”
“To anything, did you?” He stomped over to her. “Even Tierney, a city girl with no ties whatsoever to Muddy Gap, is more invested in the Split Rock than you are. And I don’t mean financially invested. I mean emotionally invested. In the resort and in the community.”
Her eyes turned as hard as granite. “You have no right to say that to me.”
“I have every right. When we were married, you never deigned to mingle with the townsfolk, did you? The only person you connected with was Bran Turner’s grandmother. Oh, and let’s not forget about Bran. Bran, who’s been my friend since we were kids, never said a fucking word to me about any of the stuff you talked to him about. About our marriage, about how freakin’ miserable you were with me. How do you think that made me feel, Janie? You wanna talk about feeling betrayed?”
By the way her eyes widened she hadn’t even considered that.
George whined upstairs, upset by the loud voices.
Abe saw no reason to back down now. “I made mistakes. But so did you. I freely admitted mine, but you never once took any of the blame. As much as I beat myself up over the years, I’ll bet you didn’t at all. Boohoo, poor Janie. Your life was so bad with me. You had a man who loved you more than life, who would’ve done anything to make you happy, who wanted forever with you. Instead of talking to me, helping me figure out how we could improve our relationship, you moped around playing the victim. Because I couldn’t read your fucking mind, you ended up making yourself miserable, making me miserable, making my family miserable and rather than stick around and fix it, you bailed. Like you’re doin’ now. Big surprise.”
He was completely out of breath when he finished. They stared at each other, not speaking. Because, really, what else was there to say?
His cell phone rang. Perfect timing. “Hello?”
“Abe. It’s Lainie.”
A dose of good news would be welcome right about now. “She’s finally in labor?”
“No. She collapsed at work. She’s bleeding and they rushed her into surgery for an emergency C-section because both she and the baby are in distress.”
Fear crawled up his throat. He choked out, “When?”
“They just called. What am I gonna do? I can’t lose her. I just... can’t.”
“Hang tight. I’ll be there in two minutes.” Abe stepped away from Janie, scaling the stairs two at a time.
“I’ll be waitin’ at the end of the driveway.” Click.
Abe shoved his feet in his boots, his arms in his shearling coat and his wallet in his back pocket. He’d reached his truck before Janie caught him.
“What’s going on?”
“Lainie’s had complications of some kind. She’s in surgery. I’ve gotta get Hank to Rawlins.”
She stood in front of the driver’s door. “I’ll come along.”
“No. Move.”
“Abe. I want to come.”
“Why? You don’t have any family, remember? You’ve got nothin’ tying you here. I don’t even know why the hell you care.”
That did the trick. She shrank away from him like he was a monster.
Abe’s tires spit gravel as he burned rubber getting to his brother’s house. Hank threw himself into the passenger seat wit
h a brusque, “Drive.”
“Buckle up. Got the all clear from Sheriff Bullard to get there as fast as possible.”
Hank’s right hand clutched the handle of a pink and white polka-dotted bag; his left hand squeezed his cell phone so hard Abe feared it might crack. He tapped Hank’s wrist. “Ease up or you’re gonna