Parker (13 page)

Hell’s bells
. When did she become so
self-centered? He’d even told her that night he was falling in love
with her, and she never even acknowledged his words. She’d simply
seduced him back into her body for one more go-round.

Yes. Slut.

She’d be lucky if he ever looked at her
again, let alone speak to her.

“You screwed up, Reba. Big time.”

****

It was daylight, he knew that much because
the heat and bright light beating down on his face had to be the
sun. If he concentrated real hard, he could see the
red-orange-yellow haze rimming his closed eyelids. Sunlight.

He tried to open them.

Shit.
That hurt.

Parker rolled over and then startled when the
empty whiskey bottle fell from the edge of the bed and clattered to
the floor.

He grabbed his head. “Dammit. That hurt
worse.”

Hungover. Lovely. But what did he expect?

The bottle had been full in the afternoon.
He’d not eaten, of course. He’d simply wallowed in his grief and
pity, moaning and bitching to himself about life and women and
death and taxes and anything else he could get out of his
system.

Pushing up slowly, he swung his legs around
to sit on the edge of the bed. His stomach churned, and he figured
he’d be sick before this morning was out. A quick glance to the
clock told him the time was nearing noon. He had two hours to get
sober, get cleaned up, and get into Livingston.

Not much time.

He fell back on the bed. “Good luck with
that, you SOB.”

His thought of Reba. She was still there. In
his head. Not the whiskey or even a pack of cigarettes had
exorcised her out of his head, or his heart.

Because his heart hurt. That was the worst
part. He’d been an ass again, with his twenty-question
interrogation. Insisting on answers. And then…

Then her rejection both stunned and paralyzed
him.

Parker rose and stumbled toward the shower.
“Get it out of your goddamned system, man,” he told himself. “Too
much else in your life to handle right now. Leave the woman alone
and get on with it.”

He stood in the shower moments later, letting
the hot water beat down on his head, neck and back. Getting Reba
out of his mind was going to be impossible. She was simply
there.

Somehow, he managed to get himself
presentably dressed and drive down the hill toward the ranch in
time to get to Livingston and meet with Tom. As he drove through
the back gate and then rounded the barn, he saw all of this family
standing on the porch. He pulled up close and parked.

Liz walked toward his truck.

He got out and met her halfway.

“Parker, Tom called. He’s decided we just
need to go ahead and get things in motion. He would like all of us
at the table this afternoon at two. Why don’t you get in the truck
with Murphy and Callie? I’m riding with Brody, Stef and
Mercer.”

Parker could do little else but nod and
agree. “All right,” he said. He sure as hell didn’t feel like
driving anyway.

If he was going to lose the ranch, it might
as well be today. He was already hungover from losing the love of
his life. Why not laugh at the wind and tell the gods to bring it
on? He was ready.

But in fact, he knew he was not.

****

Tom Walker cleared his throat and glanced to
each of the McKenna family members sitting around the table. “I’ll
make this short and sweet,” he said. “And then you can ask as many
questions as you like.”

“I’d rather you get straight to the point,
Tom,” Liz said. The others echoed their agreement.

He nodded. “I agree. I just want to say one
thing before I do. All James McKenna ever wanted was for his family
to be together. And by family, he includes Murphy and Brody, even
though you two are not blood McKennas. You both are part of the
family by choice—his choice—and he considers you his, no matter
what.

“He knew that some of you would come and go,
but his dream was for everyone to have a home to come back to—a
home, a place, that would forever provide for and sustain the
family. And that home is McKenna Ranch. That was the reason he
wanted everyone to be present at the ranch for a couple of weeks
after his death. His desire was for all of you to spend time
together, to get to know each other again, and to make amends for
anything that had happened in the past.”

He paused to glance around the table.

“But after talking with both Parker and Liz,
I’m convinced that all of the above has already happened, and I
don’t see the need for you to wait any longer to learn your
father’s wishes.”

He shuffled some papers. “I’m not going to
read things verbatim. Liz and Parker can do that later, as
co-executors of the will. I’m going over the bullet list with you
now because I think you will all be pleased, and relieved, to hear
it.”

Parker closed his eyes, inhaled deep, and let
it out slow. His father was in his head, and his spirit was at his
side.

“Regarding tract one, the acreage of land
that came from Claire Parker McKenna, Callie and Parker’s mother,
now known as the major acreage that makes up McKenna Ranch. This
land will be deeded equally to Parker and Callie. This includes the
original home built by James and Claire, all barns and
outbuildings, corrals, pasture land, etc.

“Regarding tracts two and three, land that
James McKenna purchased during his marriage to Claire Parker
McKenna that runs adjacent to the McKenna land and backs up to the
old Crandall place. Tract two, which includes Parker’s cabin in the
foothills, will be equally deeded again to both Parker and Callie
McKenna. Tract three will be deeded to Murphy Reynolds.

“Regarding tract four, land purchased during
his marriage to Claire Parker McKenna that borders the west side of
McKenna ranch and runs parallel to the Yellowstone Park border and
is inclusive of the lake, lodge, fly-fishing operation, bunkhouses,
corrals, and pasture—this land is deeded to Liz and Mercer McKenna
and Brody Caldera.

“Regarding tract five, land purchased during
James and Liz’s marriage that runs from the east side of the lake
to the foothills and includes the house that Liz and James built is
deeded solely to Liz McKenna.”

Tom stopped talking and looked up. “There are
a couple of more items, but I’ll stop now if you have burning
questions.”

No one did, so Tom moved on.

“One thing to note, that whatever debts or
liens or taxes owed on these properties will be assumed by the new
owner. And last. James set up a trust fund for each of you—that
means for Parker, Callie, Brody, Mercer, and Murphy. There are
stipulations to the trust, and one of them is that if you don’t
have a home already on the ranch, you build one with this income.
Your father never, ever wants you to be without a home, and he has
provided for you nicely with these trusts. I have the details, who
will oversee, and will go over these with you all in detail when
you are ready.

“But for now, I need to know what you are
thinking and if you have questions.”

Throughout Tom’s speech, a growing sense of
relief flooded through Parker. Under the table, he was holding
Callie’s hand, and she kept squeezing it tighter as Tom spoke.

He loved Liz and the others, but Callie was
his true sister, and he couldn’t be more pleased that the land that
came from their mother’s side of the family was going to remain,
forever, with them. And the fact that Murphy was included with a
tract of his own made things all the more sweeter for Callie.

Everything was going to be all right.

Liz spoke, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I have no questions now, Tom. I know you’ll need Parker and me
soon. Let’s set that up so we can move forward.” And then she
looked to each of the siblings and their future spouses. “I think
later this evening it would be nice if we gather for dinner at my
house. Let’s celebrate your father’s life, and let’s never, ever
forget what he has done for us all.”

Chapter
Fourteen

Three weeks later

July 1, Reba’s Cabin

“Hey, Reba, may I ask you a question?”

Reba glanced up from her whisking. “Sure, but
I can’t leave this cheese sauce right now. It will burn if I walk
away.”

Rising from the kitchen table, Callie brought
a calendar with her. “I just want to show you how I have organized
your planner.”

“Sure.”

Callie laid the book flat on the counter.
“This is July,” she began, pointing to the two-page, month spread.
“This is the monthly overview, and I’ve color-coded it. If there is
a green dot in the square, that means you have a blog post due up
that day. If it there is a yellow dot, it means you are guest
posting on someone else’s blog. A blue dot means it’s a live
interview. We only have one of those for July, over in Billings for
the TV station there. And if it is an orange dot, those are your
scheduled conference calls with the television station or your
regular calls with Elayne. Does this work?”

Callie flipped the pages to the first week of
the month. “Then all of the detail about the meeting, etcetera is
located here.”

Reba squinted at the pages and kept whisking.
She sure did love her paper planner better than the electronic one.
“I like it. How will I remember what is what?”

Callie flipped the book to inside the front
cover. “Here is the key. It tells you everything about the
colors.”

“Oh, good.” Reba leaned to look closer. “What
does red say?”

Callie flipped back to the July calendar.
“Oh, that just means it’s a personal appointment.”

“Oh. Shit.” The heat was too high on the
cheese. “Hold on a sec. I need to get this on the macaroni.” Reba
elbowed Callie aside and poured the rich cheese sauce into a large
mixing bowl of hot macaroni noodles. She set the saucepan in the
sink, ran a little water in it, and then returned to the dish.

“Can you hand me that stick of butter?”

“Sure. Here you go.”

Reba quickly removed the paper, cut the
butter into five pieces, and dropped them into the cheese and
macaroni mixture. She winked at Callie, “Everything is better with
butter.”

Callie snapped her fingers. “That’s an
awesome tag line, Reba!
Better with butter. Better with
butter.
We can use that somewhere, I know.” She jotted it down
on the side of the calendar.

Reba smiled and stirred the mixture until it
was a gooey, cheesy mess, and then she turned it into an oversized,
buttered casserole dish. “There. Thirty minutes in the oven and a
nice brown, crunchy cheese coating on the top, and we’re in
heaven.”

Callie watched her slide the dish in the hot
oven. “You are amazing,” she said.

Reba shrugged. “Naw.” Then she glanced at the
calendar again. “So what’s that red dot doing there on Saturday? I
don’t have anything personal scheduled for that day.”

Callie shut the calendar. “Oh! Nothing.”

“Callie.”

“Truly, it’s nothing, Reba.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Tell me.”

Callie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay. I
just put it there to remind myself to make sure you know about the
Fourth of July celebration at the lake Saturday night. So now you
know.”

Reba waved her off. “I’m sure that’s for
family. You’ll have a great time.”

“Actually, it’s for all of the guests at the
ranch, anyone in the community who wants to come, and yes, family.
You fit in that community part, so I hope you will be there. And I
hope you bring that macaroni and cheese!”

Reba smiled at Callie’s invitation, but there
was no way she was going. “Maybe I can see the fireworks just fine
from here, on my front porch.”

Callie agreed. “I’m sure you can. But it
would be so much more fun for you to join us.”

“Not happening.” She turned to the sink and
began rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher. Callie joined her
there.

“You two haven’t talked since that day, have
you?”

Reba scrubbed at the pot. “No. And I doubt we
will.”

Callie turned and leaned her backside against
the counter, arms crossed. “It’s all my fault. How can I fix this
for the two of you?”

After a moment, Reba stopped scrubbing the
cheese pan and turned to Callie. “You can’t. It is not your fault,
not really. You and I have already talked about this, and I don’t
want you blaming yourself. I understand why you told Parker, but
that really isn’t the issue. There was more going on than you know
between us and… Well, it’s complicated.”

Callie stared off. Reba went back to the
dishes.

“He’s miserable.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re miserable.”

“I’m sorry about that too.”

“It makes no sense.”

Placing the last dish in the dishwasher, Reba
closed the door and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Yes, it does,
if you know all of the parts and pieces. I made a mistake, Callie.
A big one. I said something to Parker I didn’t mean, and I didn’t
say it in a nice way. I was confused and frankly, I think he was
too. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Callie looked her in the eye. “Talk to him.
Tell him.”

“He’s stubborn.”

Callie laughed. “He thinks you’re
stubborn.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Reba thought about that. “I’m sure he’s
right.”

“Then talk to him.”

Reba closed her eyes and finally let Callie’s
words sink in. Her advice was actually good advice. “He’s not going
to talk to me.”

“He will if I hog-tie him.”

Reba laughed. “Yeah, I’d like to see
that.”

But Reba knew she
needed
to talk to
him. She’d avoided it long enough, and she had more to discuss with
him than apologizing for her words. “I’m not sure the Fourth of
July event is the place for this to happen.”