Somewhere Montana (6 page)

“Hello. Sheldon Burnett here.” The call was answered brusquely.

“Hi, Dad. Did I wake you?”

“Sage. What have you done now?” the resigned tone of voice not welcoming.

“Why do you ask that? Couldn’t I be calling just to say hi and how are you? To find out when you might be coming home so we could have dinner together?”

“I thought I squelched those nuisance calls years ago. You’re not that five year old anymore who used to sneak away from her nanny to call. After that call we received a couple weeks ago when you had the audacity to land in the hospital and almost screwed up our plans, what do you expect me to think?”

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” she mumbled. She could feel the impenetrable wall raising up around her, closing her off from him. “You remember your Diamond D jet? Well, it is no more.”

“What the hell did you do to my plane, Sage?” screamed her father, interrupting her explanation. She could hear another screech and was sure it was her mother gearing up for her onslaught.

“I crashed it into the side of a mountain.” She heard the fatalistic sigh on the other end of the line.

“Well, it couldn’t be that bad. You’re alive. Why were you flying mine in the first place? You have your own. Was this another one of your stunts to impress your so-called friends?” She could hear his anger building and knew he was about to go off into one of his debasing tirades.

“Believe me, Dad, the plane can’t be fixed. It was insured, so you haven’t lost anything.” She jumped in to forestall him.

“And, sir, it took a great deal of skill and guts to belly-land that thing in the narrow space she had available.”

Sage looked at Mac.

“Who’s that? Where are you?” her father asked suspiciously.

“I’m Callum MacLain at the Elm Creek Ranch in Montana. She crashed on our mountain during a blizzard.”

“What were you thinking, Sage? Or were you? You’ve never flown in that type of weather.”

“Weather report in San Francisco didn’t mention any storms. I tried to get above the storm, but ice built up on the wings too quickly.”

“Why didn’t you use the deicers?” his tone suggesting she was too stupid.

“Because
you
never had them installed.
You
didn’t think they were a necessity,” was her sharp rejoinder.

“Well, I’ll have Bill contact the insurance company so they can get right on it,” he backed down.

“Be a couple months until they can get to the site,” interjected Mac. “The plane is sitting under a good five feet of snow.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them that. I have an early meeting in the A.M., so I’ve got to go.” It was easy to tell he didn’t want to prolong the conversation.

Covering the phone with her hand, Sage whispered bitterly, “Watch this. You think he was irate? This will push his blood pressure through the roof.” She uncovered the phone. “Where’s your meeting, Dad?”

“We’re in the Florida Keys. Why?”

“I could grab a flight out tonight and meet you. Don’t you think it’s about time you brought me on board so I can take over when you retire?” They could hear sputtering on the other end like someone choking.

“You will never take over this company, Sage,” was growled with vehemence.

“Why? Because I don’t have a penis?” she asked. Mac looked at her in shock.

“You will not talk to your father like that!” came an angry feminine voice over the wire.

“Why not, Mother? He knows I have all the necessary credentials, except for his prerequisite appendage. Is he ashamed of me because I graduated with only a 3.98 GPA and made the Dean’s list every semester? He’s blackballed me from getting any job at any of the hotels. If I’m not wanted now, why did you have me in the first place?” The line went dead. She threw the phone to the other end of the couch and curled up with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Mac slid in behind her and lifted her onto his lap, cradling her head between his neck and shoulder. He encircled her shivering body gently with his arms, allowing her room to push away if she so desired. Instead, she burrowed in closer. His anger was evident in his firmly compressed lips and snapping, whiskey brown eyes, yet his hold was tender. He lightly stroked her back with his palm. Now he would more fully understand her motivation for acting the way she did all those years ago. He probably hadn’t truly believed her and thought her stories were only the imaginings of a troubled twelve year old.

Mac watched Sage across the breakfast table. She ate sparingly of what Little Mouse placed in front of her, not raising her eyes from her plate. His lips firmed
as he thought of a few choice words he would like to say to her father. Just because Sheldon Burnett was the biggest idiot that ever walked the earth didn’t give him the right to treat his daughter like she didn’t exist.

Mac’s protective instincts leaped to the fore. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and promise nothing would hurt her again, but he knew that was a fantasy. She hadn’t let him hold her very long after the phone conversation with her parents. She had risen from his lap, her eyes empty, her expression blank, and then walked from the room and up the stairs without a word to anyone. He had wanted to follow her, yet felt he couldn’t. She needed to process what was, and wasn’t, said in her own way, probably not for the first time.

He wanted her to open up, let him in. Unable to stand the silence any longer, he coughed and set his coffee mug down with a resounding
thunk
. That brought her eyes to his.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That I should go to work for the opposition and put him out of business,” was her forthright answer.

“No doubt, in time, you could accomplish it. You have the motivation. But he has a head start on you with years of experience, probably with a ruthlessness and cutthroat attitude on his side.”

“It’s just my throat he’d like to cut. Although he most likely wouldn’t bother. I’m nothing.”

“Sage, don’t. Don’t demean yourself that way. You are an important person.”
Especially to me. Someday, in the not too distant future, I hope to be able to show you how much.
He wanted to remove that haunted look from her eyes. Make her smile. Put some peace back in her life like she had when she attended the survival camps, until he undid that, too.

“In what way?” Her look dared him to give her one good reason.

In for a penny, in for a pound
.
Might as well jump in with both feet.
“How good are your business skills? Willing to put them to the test?”

“I’ve done pretty well, so far,” she said cautiously.

“Work with me. Take over the office here. I won’t have time to handle that and the survival camp we have coming up in two weeks. Plus we have three cabins to get ready for the five men taking part in it.”

He caught Two Feather’s gaze from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t take his eyes off Sage. He could see the glimmer of interest taking shape. Carefully he schooled his own expression to one of unpremeditated interest. His stomach clenched and his heartbeat skipped awaiting her answer.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” she responded hesitantly. “You won’t be far away if questions come up. As far as the cabins, you’re willing for me to help physically in their preparation?”

“We’ve got time to go over the office stuff together before you’ll be on your own. Also got a couple new spreadsheet ideas you might be able to set up for me. The cabins won’t be all that physically hard to do. Either one of the hands or myself will be there to do any of the heavy stuff. Basically it will be removing the dust, making sure the beds are made and enough extra blankets and clean towels are available, and also ensuring the fridge and cupboards are stocked. You should be okay, if you’re willing to rest when I tell you or when you feel you need to.”

“I’ll be with her, too,” spoke up Little Mouse. “My eagle eye is still sharp.”

Mac grinned at the oh-no-I’ve-got-another-babysitter expression on Sage’s face. Two Feathers threw him a
smart move
wink and a knowing smile. He had figured out Mac’s reason for the proposition.

“When would you like me to start?” she asked cautiously.

“After breakfast, if you’re up to it. I can show you the office. Then you can come with me to check the cabins, see what needs to be done, and inventory the supplies,” he answered, trying to keep the smugness out of his voice. If he could make her feel important, needed, would it deter her plans for leaving?  His need to protect her was prominent in his thoughts. Yes, he loved her and thoughts of losing her sent shivers up his spine. After the survival camp was over, he would see what more he could do. Her leaving was not an option!

* * * *

The two weeks went by rapidly. Sage was so happy to be doing something useful she pushed her own problem to the back of her mind. If she tried to surpass her physical limits, Mac stepped in and shut her down. The times spent alone with him in the office were enlightening. He had a good head for business and his ideas were workable.

Yet his closeness distracted her. When he leaned over her to point out something on the computer screen, shuffle papers to find a certain topic, or brace his hands on the desk to ask a question, his scent surrounded her. The light, musky aroma of his aftershave, the smell of fresh air that was always a part of him, plus the redolence of pure male had her body responding in ways it never had around other men.

She imagined those large, work roughened hands stroking her skin, the long fingers touching more intimate areas. She wasn’t listening, but was staring at his hands.

Those hands moved to her shoulders and squeezed gently as he leaned in close. “Information overload?” he whispered, his breath brushing her neck. She shivered and wondered what she would do if he placed his lips on that spot just below her ear. She needed him to back away.

“Tomorrow I have to go into town for supplies for the cabins. Come with me,” he said, moving over to lean against the fireplace mantel.

“Not a good idea. I’d probably scare small children
.”
Her posture stiffened and a frown developed. Fear was aroused in Sage as she looked up at Callum.

“I doubt that. At first, you may get some questioning looks. I did when I got home. But the people around here are willing to accept you as you are. They know you from when you were here before. The media coverage of what happened to you never reached this area. Nobody’s going to pick up a phone to let the world know where you are. You will still be safe. And you need some jeans and shirts. You’re ruining your good clothes.”

“Maybe. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“You need to get back out into the world. Your work won’t wait forever. What do you do?”

“Technically, I don’t really have a job. I graduated from college with a double major, Business Management and Hotel Management. I was hoping it would give me the in with Dad. So far, no luck. So I’m volunteering at a rec center in Bayview-Hunters Point in southeast San Francisco, not too far from Candlestick Park. It’s a community with a high rate of unemployment, poverty, and crime.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very safe area for you to be working.” He crossed his arms across his chest and stood straighter, a scowl on his face.

“I don’t have any problems. I’ve earned their respect because I respect them. I wrote a couple grant proposals from which the rec center received enough money to keep it viable for another three years. I work with the kids, mainly tutoring, showing them what’s out there beyond the confines of the community and how they can pull themselves out of the hopelessness they feel.”

“And how has that worked for you?” he asked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

“So far, we’ve got two of them into college on scholarships. A couple of the boys cleaned up their acts enough to be able to join the army. One has turned himself around so far as to get into the Criminal Justice Academy and hopes to join the SFPD. The girls have been a little harder to reach.”

“Why? I should think you would impress them with your accomplishments.”

“Right.” She snorted. “Their take is I’m the rich bitch who’s come slumming because I have to do charitable deeds. That I’m trying to make them feel they’re better than the others in the community. Better than their parents. Families are close knit there. Their heritage is important. Also we’re competing with the gangs for membership.”

“What do you see for their future?”

“Redevelopment is working on the old Hunters Point Naval Shipyard as a commercial enterprise. It’s easily accessed by road and large ships. I don’t know how quickly it will come together. I had also started talking with one of the gang leaders about how they could improve their community instead of making it worse. Now he probably figures I’m just a bag of wind and bailed on them.”

“Not if he can read and watch TV. Your situation must have drawn some media coverage. Won’t they think your disappearance might be connected to that?”

“I hope not. The ones that like me enough to worry also have connections that could ensure Marcos ended up in the bay wearing a pair of cement boots.”

“Seems to me that wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“I don’t want to see anyone dead over this. He needs to be held responsible for what he did and suffer the consequences. The kids don’t deserve to get into trouble over it.”

“I wouldn’t want to see the kids get into trouble either. But I’m not as merciful toward Diego’s health status. Enough about that. Back to my original question. Please, will you go into town with me? It will do you good to get out and if it becomes too much for you, you can stay in the truck while I finish getting supplies.”

Weighing the pros and cons, she didn’t think it was such a good idea. She didn’t want people’s pity when they saw her face. There would be many persons she knew from previous visits there. But she had to dip her toe in the water of society sometime.

“Okay,” she acquiesced. She couldn’t resist his imploring look or the half smile that suggested it would be fun.

* * * *

After breakfast, Mac brought the truck to the front door and left it running to be sure it would be warm enough for Sage. When he entered the kitchen to pick up Little Mouse’s list, Sage caught his disdainful look at her outfit. The blue cotton pullover sweater over lightweight, gray pants and the thin, black leather half boots weren’t very warm. She was sure he would want to oversee the clothing she bought. She had attended winter survival camps at the ranch. Why hadn’t she packed more appropriate gear? She had planned to land in a warmer area.

He helped her with her jacket and, with a hand at her back, escorted her out to the truck. Once in the truck, he looked at her reflectively.

“Don’t you have a pair of winter boots?” he asked. She shook her head. He took the money from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “Well, that’s the first thing you’ll buy. That’s part of your money I took from the safe this morning. You should have enough there to get everything you need.”

“Thank you. If you hadn’t, I was going to save the receipts so I could pay you back every penny.”

“I doubt what few things you intend to buy would break me. You’re not a high maintenance person.”

“No, I’m not. I take care of myself. Once I came of age, I swore I would never be considered a burden to anyone ever again.”

“Is that what you think this whole situation has been? That you’ve been an encumbrance to us?” He stared at her with resolution. “Get that idea out of your mind. We care about you, Sage. I thought you cared about us, too.” He put the truck in gear and started for the highway, eyes forward, mouth clamped tight
.

“I’m sorry,” she answered contritely. She wanted to explain, but one look at his face stopped her. The scenery outside her window turned blurry. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.

The twenty miles into town was a long, silent trip. With the snow piled so high on the roadsides, some places felt like driving through a canyon. It had been a while since Sage had seen this much snow. At the top of the hill leading down into the town, Mac pulled to the side and stopped. The first sight of Somewhere had always been one of her favorite scenes.

Coming into town from that direction, the first scene was the original town site. The residents, most descendants of the original settlers, insisted that section be kept in an Old West flavor. One would think they had been transported back in time.

The wooden buildings with the well maintained old facades, many of the original signs, even down to the wooden sidewalks and hitch rails set conveniently in front of the establishments, businesses run by the fourth and fifth generations. The Silver Spur Saloon was still operated by a Michael O’Shea, and the Wentworth Hotel next door was owned by a great-great grandson. A Vanderhoff was still the town banker. Margaret MacReady inherited the Hole-in-the-Wall Restaurant. Murphy’s Emporium was managed by the offspring of one of the original town founders, as was Sheriff Dante Deveaux.

At the far end of Main Street, to the right, sat a small, white church with the tall steeple, next to it the original one room schoolhouse, which was now the town library. Across the street, set back a way
s
and surrounded by a white picket fence, rose the white, three story Georgian colonial with blue shutters that originally housed Madame Charlotte’s house of pleasure. The great-great-great granddaughter had turned it into a bed and breakfast, still named Madame Charlotte’s. It all looked old, but the interior
s
had been updated with modern amenities.

Beyond was a definite line of demarcation that separated the old from the totally modern. There were two new motels, a strip mall, an auto company, an industrial park with several thriving businesses, and the airport farther down the road.