Chapter 1

Chapter One

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose and attempted to quell the combination of anger and fear churning inside him. When he'd woken to an absolutely perfect Montana morning, he hadn't expected his day to turn sour so damn quickly. Zach's voice on the end of the phone kept going, the tone a mixture of apology and demand.

"I'm sorry, Nate, if it were up to just me, then I'd let the feed delivery happen, but Dad is getting pissy with it being five months outstanding an' all."

"It's probably an oversight," Nate said quickly. Marcus was the one who looked after the accounts, and they'd never had problems before.

Nate had gone to school with Zach, and it was humiliating for someone Nate had spent much of his childhood around to be telling him this. Hell, Nate hated that people outside Crooked Tree might think they were struggling.

Zach continued. "We spoke to Marcus last week, Nate. He said he was going to make good on the balance when we explained that the account was in arrears. I wasn't going to bother you with this, but the account is still outstanding. I kinda felt I owed you an explanation since the order we got yesterday, isn't going to be filled."

Tension banded Nate's head. This was the third supplier in the last week who had implied Crooked Tree was in arrears. Hell, not implied , two of them refused to deal with the ranch at all. Did they all talk to each other? Jeez. When the first supplier stopped their deliveries, Nate considered it was probably an error. He kept meaning to talk to Marcus about it, but never quite got around to it. And this was the second call he'd had to deal with. On the call before this one, when the veterinarian turned around and basically said no to the usual Crooked Tree meds order without citing a reason, Nate was angry but wasn't sure where to place his anger. Things had been up and down with the suppliers over the last few years. One day Marcus was on the ball, the next he'd be wallowing in grief and unable to keep on top of things. It made for uncomfortable relationships with those to whom the ranch owed money.

"I need the feed," Nate said. The door into the kitchen opened and Gabe walked in. Nate turned his back on his brother and spoke more quietly. "Take the money from my private account."

Zach coughed and paused for a few moments. "You'll need to top it up, Nate."

"I'll sort it this morning," he said firmly. "You have my word."

He ended the call and turned to face his brother, expecting to have to explain anything Gabe may have overheard. Instead, he didn't have to worry. Gabe obviously had something on his mind if the concern written on his face was anything to go by.

"You need to come out and see this," Gabe said. He turned and left without further explanation. Nate followed him and pushed the worry about the unpaid accounts to the back of his mind. He'd talk to Marcus as soon as he could.

"What's wrong?" Nate asked worriedly. "Is it the horses? A guest?"

"It's Luke," Gabe said softly. Gabe pushed open the door of the small barn next to the house. Sunlight flooded the dim interior and dust motes danced in the breeze caused by opening the door. It took a few seconds to focus in on what Gabe was pointing at.

Luke, his youngest brother, lay on the floor naked, staring up at the roof and humming softly.

"Fuck, is he drunk?" Nate asked immediately.

Gabe picked up the small bag discarded by the door and handed it to Nate, who sniffed the contents. Weed. Nate knew immediately what his little brother, spirited and full of the need to explore his world, had done.

"Jeez," Nate groaned. Then, squaring his shoulders, he crossed to where Luke lay.

"You're not even seventeen yet," Nate snapped at his youngest brother.

"July twenty-eighth today …" Luke slurred. "Hundred and fifty days 'til Christmas an' my birthday. I wan' a bike an' a Barbie an'…" Luke giggled and held a hand in front of his face. He proceeded to examine his hand as if he hadn't seen it before.

Nate despaired at the fact that whatever he said, Luke did what he wanted anyway. Luke looked up at him with a goofy grin and a spaced-out expression on his face. Nate bit back his temper.

"It won't hurt him, Nate," Gabe placated. "We were younger than him when we tried it."

"We were rebelling, Gabe. What's he got to rebel against? He does what he wants anyway. It's not like we stop him." That much was true. Luke was an independent teenager and a good kid—responsible, organized, everything Nate hadn't been at sixteen.

Gabe shrugged, then chuckled. Great . Now he had Gabe laughing. Admittedly, finding Luke naked in the middle of their barn, staring up at the roof and talking about his Christmas Day birthday, was kinda funny on the surface. Still, drugs anywhere near his little brother were a dangerous matter and one Nate had to take seriously. Crossing his arms over his chest, Nate widened his stance. Add Luke high on pot to finding out Crooked Tree owed thousands in unpaid feed bills, and Nate was quietly losing his cool.

Gabe copied his stance, but he was still half-smiling. "Seems I remember you were sixteen when Mom found you stretched out in the backyard talking to the sky, and you told her you hadn't been drinking."

Nate heard what Gabe said and instantly recalled the day with the familiar grief of remembering his mom.

"That's beside the point," he said angrily. "You were younger than me when you did it, but we never got found out." As he spoke, he knew what he was saying was complete crap and ever so slightly irrational. He also knew Gabe was going to call him on it.

"Mom always knew," Gabe said.

"Luke should have realized."

"What exactly are you angry at?" Gabe asked. "That Luke has pot, or that he was caught with it?"

Nate ignored Gabe pointedly. "You're both my responsibility."

He wasn't lying. He wanted his brothers to have a different life from him, a better life, more choice. Why did they seem to follow what he did and then not listen to him? He wanted them to see that they could take a better path than the one he'd had to follow out of necessity.

Gabe thumped him on the arm. "Jesus, Nate, I stopped being your responsibility the day I turned eighteen."

"I'm still the head of the family," Nate snapped. That was always his final defense, and one he knew wouldn't stand up with his brothers. Ever since their parents had died in 2004, when he was only eighteen, Gabe fourteen, and Luke barely six, he had assumed the mantle of sometimes-parent, even though he was fully aware it was a losing battle. Hell, Gabe had been an easy one, and Luke had been a good kid until he fell in with the Hemsley twins.

"Head of the family," Gabe snorted, then bent at his waist in laughter.

Nate felt affronted, then realized what he had probably sounded like. "Fuck you," he said without heat.

"Head! Family!" Gabe said again. He was evidently unable to stop laughing, and it was contagious.

Finally Nate couldn't help but join in, and soon he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

"Guys?" Luke interrupted their laughter. A frown marked his youthful features. He clambered to stand, and there was straw sticking out of his hair. Nate considered where else there was probably straw, and that started him off laughing again, his temper long forgotten.

"What do we do now?" Gabe asked with a grin.

Nate looked at Luke with deliberation and, in a smooth movement, had his youngest brother up and over his shoulder. He stalked out of the barn with Luke kicking and yelling. Gabe fell in the side of him and stopped Luke from kicking Nate's stomach and his unprotected balls. In one fluid motion Nate upended his brother into the deep area of the runoff outside the house before standing back, with his hands on his hips, watching Luke flounder in the water. Finally Luke stopped panicking and surfaced with a snarl on his face.

"You fucker!" he snapped at Nate.

"Next time think on smoking that shit," Nate said evenly.

"Next time I'll think on not getting caught," Luke shouted back.

"He has a point," Gabe smirked.

Nate shook his head. His brothers were idiots. With a shove, he pushed Gabe into the same water, then with a whoop, splashed in after them.

"You're freaking crazy!" Luke snapped.

Nate pushed his brother under the water and held him there, then released him. Luke popped up like a cork, spluttering and cursing.

"Mind your mouth," Nate said with a grin.

Gabe lay on his back and floated in the water. He and Nate were dressed in jeans and sleeveless T-shirts and, thank God neither had taken time to pull on boots, both in sneakers. Nate joined his brother in the lazy floating and looked up at the canopy of trees that gave them shade. The water was icy cold after the hot August sun had burned into his skin all day. The latest group of vacationing wannabe cowboys had been hard work and Nate was feeling the ache in his head after another long day. A good ache in his muscles, but he could have done without the enthusiastic yee-hawing from the guests. Frightening the damn horses.

"It's been pretty quiet the past month. Do we have bookings for next week?" Gabe asked as he floated close. Crooked Tree was at the height of the summer season, but even then, it wasn't fully booked. They'd all dropped the baton on the place.

"Four families is all." Nate would have shrugged if he'd been sitting, but it was near impossible to do when you were floating in the river.

"That's pretty low. I think we should be worried."

Their dad had owned a third of Crooked Tree, which had passed equally to his sons on his death. The three of them floating here had a stake in making the ranch pay, as well as an emotional connection with it.

"Marcus says we're hitting targets and we're covered 'til the end of the season," Nate explained. He didn't mention the fact the ranch had outstanding accounts with two feed places and the veterinarian. He wasn't going to share with Gabe until he got to the root of it all. "He said we need to think of next year now."

"He said the same thing to me," Gabe admitted.

"You talked to him?"

Gabe huffed. "It's what he always says, that next year will be better. But yeah, he came up this morning with the post, and we got to talking about the future of Crooked Tree. He was kinda deep about it all saying all this stuff about improvement and expansion. He's all worried about the cabins we have empty—says he's thinking of shutting down the Creek Cabins."

Nate had the same idea. They only ever rented out maybe one or two a season and the others stood empty. Meanwhile some of the River Cabins were empty. If they could move the few bookings at the creek to the river, then they could cut down on overheads, like housekeeping, by having them all in one place, and also deliveries.

The ranch covered over twenty-nine thousand acres, bigger than the average Montana ranch. But Crooked Tree was one of those places where the owners were land rich, and cash poor. The actual tourist cabins on the dude ranch were laid out with three miles between them. Some of them fronted the six miles of private access the ranch had to the Blackfoot River, others were in the pine area behind and along the creek. Spread-out places gave people privacy but stretched the ranch some. Upfront costs were spiraling, feed wasn't cheap, and Nate had been lying to himself when he hadn't thought the recession would hit them as much as the next guy. They'd struggled to pay off loans taken out during the boom years when expansion seemed the way forward.

"Yeah," Nate admitted. "Shutting 'em down is probably something we should think on."

"Can I be honest with you about something?" Gabe turned from floating to treading water.

Nate copied, and Luke swam the short distance so that he was in on it as well. Nate didn't want Luke to worry about the ranch at his age—wanted him to have more childhood yet, but he couldn't deny that Luke, even at his young age, owned 11.1 percent of Crooked Tree and had an investment in it surviving.

Laughter was over, and Gabe was deadly serious. "We had two cancelations this week. Two of the larger cabins lost, and I think Marcus is looking for you to get a manager in, someone who can build the business side. I said I'd ask you for him."

"Since when can't Marcus talk to me direct?"

Since everything went to shit nine years ago, that's when. Since Marcus had loosened his control of the ranch and lost himself first in depression, then in denial.

"Maybe he doesn't want you thinking that what you're doing isn't enough. Hell, we all know that without your winnings, we'd be screwed."

Nate bit his lip. He hated that, just because he plowed his bull-riding winnings into the ranch, everyone trod on eggshells around him, looking for him to make decisions and drive things forward. Marcus had carried the ranch for the last nine years, ever since his youngest son, Justin, had vanished, taking Marcus's drive to make Crooked Tree survive with him. And his other son, Ethan? He was never here, lost in the need to find his brother, even after all this time.

"Yeah, and last time he talked to you about a manager, you kinda lost it," Luke interrupted.

"That's what Marcus should be doing," Nate said evenly. He recalled the day Marcus suggested getting in a third party to market the ranch. Looking at the rows of figures that Marcus was showing him was embarrassing. He couldn't make head or tail of overheads, profit and loss, or balance sheets. Numbers eluded him, but then, writing pretty much did as well. You didn't need either to ride the eight-second dream. You lived and rode, or you fell and lost—that was an easy equation.

Nate couldn't admit that to Gabe and Luke… hell, they looked up to him. They assumed his lack of education was due to the fact he left school early to trail the rodeo. He wasn't going to correct them in any way. He'd worked hard at his profession, earned good money, and he was lucky that Gabe and Luke had a place to be when he wasn't around. He owed Marcus for that. The old man had been a surrogate father to Nate's brothers in more ways than one.

"I'll talk to him."

"Tonight?" Gabe asked gently.

"Tonight. In fact, I'm going there next?—"

"I don't feel so good," Luke interrupted suddenly. He scrambled to shore before losing whatever was in his stomach to the undergrowth. Gabe made a move to go help, but Nate stopped him.

"He'll be fine," he said. "He'll learn better if we don't fuss. He won't want his brothers around him when he's ill."

Gabe nodded. "When did you get so wise?"

"Since I made the mistake of clearing up your vomit when you were his age. Didn't teach you a thing."

He swam to the edge and heaved himself out, and Gabe followed.

"Bacon sandwich, Luke?" Gabe shouted. When retching sounds echoed from Luke's space, Nate took that as a no.

Juno slowed from the fast run across the wide open space, and Nate enjoyed the lazy meander through the trees on their side of the river and down past the Strachan house. He reined Juno in and slid from the saddle.

"Hang tight," he whispered and scratched Juno behind the ears.

The horse shook her head and butted him. This was a nightly occurrence for the two of them. They raced the long stretches with no restrictions, then trotted down to the second of the three owners' houses.

He walked Juno down to the next place, Marcus's home, and tied his horse on the verandah post. He knocked on the door and waited longer than usual for someone to come and invite him in. Sophie opened the door, her face flushed and her hair in disarray.

"Nate!" she exclaimed.

"Is Marcus around?"

Flustered, she let Nate in and gestured him into the large front room with the stone fireplace and the wall of photos. He sat on the chair closest to the door. "I'll tell him you're here. Would you like beer? Or coffee?"

Nate didn't have to think long. "Beer is good."

"I don't know what he's doing. He's in his office," she mumbled, then left the room.

Nate smiled to himself. From Sophie's flushed face, it was pretty clear what they had been doing. It was public knowledge that Marcus and Sophie were an item and had been for years. They'd just never gone public with it all, not even to friends and family. That was another mystery that Nate had never got his head around.

Marcus came into the room with two beers and handed one to Nate. "Is something wrong?" he asked immediately.

Plenty. Unpaid accounts for a start . Nate wasn't ready to talk money just yet, though, and instead he cut to the chase. "Gabe said you came to see him."

"You, actually. I came to see you."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "At ten in the morning when you knew I'd be out on the roundups with the guests?"

Marcus sighed. He looked older every time Nate saw him. Older, and less of the person he used to be. "It's easier to talk about things like this with Gabe," he admitted.

"I get that. Gabe was always the one with his head straight on his shoulders."

In fact, Gabe had a degree in math and was waiting for a response to a teaching position in a school in Missoula.

"Don't do that," Marcus snapped. "I hate when you play like you're dumb, boy." Nate bristled. He hated when Marcus called him boy or felt he had a say in what Nate should or shouldn't do. It wasn't Nate fucking things up and not paying suppliers. "You're as capable as Gabe when it comes to Crooked Tree. You're just prickly and ornery and difficult to talk to."

Nate placed his beer very deliberately on the coffee table in front of him. On a coaster, of course, else Sophie would kill him. Prickly and ornery was something Marcus had a life's worth of experience in. "I'm not the one who isn't paying the bills. Fuck. Is that what you got me down here to say? 'Cause I got stuff to do even if you get to sit on your ass doing nothing at all."

"I didn't get you down here," Marcus snapped. "Seems like you made your own way down."

"You want to tell me why the feed company blacklisted our account?"

"They've been paid, damn idiots," Marcus said.

Nate could see the lie for what it was, and suddenly he was scared for Crooked Tree. What the hell's going on?

"And what about the veterinarian?"

"Him too."

"I can see you're lying, Marcus?—"

"For God's sake," Sophie snapped from the door, "will you two grow up? You're like kids arguing about a toy. You both want the ranch to work, so do it together. Marcus, stop lying and tell Nate the truth, and Nate, you sit down and damn well listen to what's happening."

Nate bristled. He always listened. "I do fine running my parts of Crooked Tree." He had responsibility for the livestock, the horses, the tours, and the roundups.

Sophie gripped a hand in her blonde hair in obvious frustration. "Yes, and Marcus says he does his bit as good, which turns out to be not exactly true." She shot a glance at Marcus, but Marcus wasn't looking back at her. In fact, Marcus looked devastated and small. "Unless we get someone who can bridge the difference, Crooked Tree is likely to be lost to us all." She sat on the edge of Marcus's chair. "Tell him," she said softly.

"Tell me what?" Nate demanded.

Marcus looked ill—pale and sweating—and he pressed his clenched fist against his chest over his heart. Hell, whatever this was had got Marcus in a real state, and the last thing Nate wanted was for the man his brothers looked on as a surrogate father to keel over and die in front of him.

"Marcus?" he prompted more gently.

"It's my fault," Marcus said brokenly. "I'm not… I didn't… I…." He shook his head and leaned into Sophie as she sat on the side of his chair.

"Things have gotten out of hand," she explained for Marcus. "I didn't know until a few days ago. I want you to listen to what Marcus has to say and give him the chance to explain. Can you do that for me?"

Nate looked from Sophie to Marcus. In his heart, he already knew what Marcus was going to tell him. That the ranch was on the decline, that they were hemorrhaging money, and that something needed to be done. "I'm listening," he said with resignation.

Marcus bit his lip, vulnerability etched into his features. He visibly deflated, became less of a strong, imposing man; broken somehow. "I kept trying new things, taking money from one budget to cover another, but the ranch has been running at a break-even point, some months at a loss. We haven't put prices up, we're losing guests, and not because of what we offer, but things are tight out there. Dude ranches are offering luxury, and we're falling behind."

"We offer authenticity," Nate defended. "Well, as much as we can," he added thoughtfully. "We were never setting out to provide hot tubs and fancy designer riding clothes?—"

"Two years, maybe less," Marcus interrupted. "It's what we have if we keep going the way we are and if the recession still bites." He pressed his chest again.

Nate opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. "I know," he said. "Can we at least pay the feed company?"

Marcus nodded. "I delay everything as much as I can. I can pay them today—but I wait until they call."

Nate frowned. "So, why haven't I had them on the phone to me before this?"

Marcus closed his eyes briefly, and Nate saw Sophie squeeze his shoulder gently. "Because I always prioritize the areas that affect you," he admitted.

"So I wouldn't know what was happening?" Nate was aware he sounded incredulous. Jeez, what kind of secret was this to keep? He couldn't get his head around the enormity of what was being said to him.

"Tell him the rest," Sophie prompted.

Marcus looked up at her with despair carved on his face.

"There's more?" Nate had a growing feeling of dread.

"We had an offer on forty acres of land."

Nate bristled immediately. "We're not selling land. We always said we wouldn't sell the land."

Sophie held up a hand to stop them both. "I didn't mean the land offer, Marcus. Tell him what the doctor said."

"Sophie—"

"Don't Sophie me. You tell him—he deserves to know."

Nate's stomach fell. "Are you ill?" he asked directly.

"Something wrong with my blood," Marcus explained quietly. "Sophie is overreacting. I'm having tests."

"Jeez, Marcus." Nate looked at his old friend—at the man who was like a father to Luke and Gabe when Nate had been out on the road making money for them all. He was torn. Half of him wanted to yell that Marcus had let the ball drop, while the other half wanted to make everything right for the older man. He should have told Nate the enormity of what Crooked Tree was facing, but then, was Nate entirely blameless? He may not be able to read financial reports, but he could see the effect that falling bookings were having on the grass roots of the ranch. He just always imagined that Marcus had things under control. Even after Justin….

Marcus held out a hand in entreaty. "Can you forgive me?"

Nate heard the question but didn't know what Marcus wanted him to say. Forgive him for allowing the mess to get to this point? For not telling Nate he was ill? He gripped Marcus's hand tight and closed his other hand around the connection. Looking directly into Marcus's eyes, he knew the words he said next would be something that was part truth, part lie, but wholly right for the situation he was facing.

"There's nothing to forgive," Nate said gruffly. He released the grip and settled back in the chair. "So what do we do now?"

Sophie reached over and picked up the notebook on the table and opened it. "I've been thinking." She looked at Marcus. "We've been thinking. We need to work on Crooked Tree. We advertise for someone who can help us build a… what do you call it? A brand, that's it. Someone with marketing experience, someone who knows Montana and is maybe good with horses, with vision, who can bridge accommodations and events and make us shine. Build us a website; use those social media things Luke keeps talking about."

"I guess we don't have much money to pay someone." Nate was only speaking the truth. No one with a stake in the place actually took a significant salary, if at all, and now to find how close to the bone Crooked Tree was running? That was the icing on the cake.

"Not a huge budget, but unless we invest, we could lose everything." Marcus's voice was stronger and more determined.

"Where are we going to advertise?" Nate had the idea there wasn't going to be much in the way of people fitting that description who would be willing to work for a small salary. "I want a local like you said—someone who knows Montana."

Inspired, Sophie sat forward on the side of the chair. "We'll offer them the cabin near the staff place included with a small salary; maybe get them some kind of profit-sharing."

Nate blanched. Profit-sharing on what profits, exactly? He didn't say that out loud. To do so would undermine the positive focus of this and push Marcus back to clutching his chest and looking like he was going to die at the drop of a hat.

"I suppose if we get them in with that, whoever it is could bring their family," Marcus said.

"Gabe's good with money. I want him to look at the accounts." Nate wasn't arguing about this point. He should have insisted on it ages ago—another thing he'd fallen down on.

Marcus visibly deflated again. There was no fight in his eyes as he nodded. "I want him to." He reached over for his cell. "Call him. Get him to come down, Luke as well. We should talk about this together."

"We should get Ethan here," Nate suggested cautiously. He knew exactly how that would go down. However, Ethan, while not owning any of Crooked Tree, was Marcus's son and involved in this as much as the rest of them.

Marcus immediately stiffened. "Ethan doesn't want any part of Crooked Tree," he said firmly.

Sophie looked sad. "Marcus?—"

"No. He made his choice."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, only broken by Nate when Gabe answered his cell.

Nate didn't mess around. "Gabe, get Luke and bring him down here."

"He's still sick," Gabe said with a chuckle.

"Bring a bucket," Nate said evenly.

Gabe must have heard the tension in Nate's voice. He was good at reading emotions. "Is everything okay?"

Nate glanced at Marcus and Sophie, who sat so close to each other there was no daylight between them. Too many damn secrets and lies in this place. "Just get down here." He finished the call and placed the cell back on the table.

"For the person to help us, we should advertise locally to start," Sophie suggested. "Then move it out if we don't get any interest."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

Nate and Marcus spoke at the same time, and Sophie smiled angelically.

"Finally something you agree on."