Chapter 25

By Wednesday Tazwas in a black mood. So black that he'd asked his mother to take the girls overnight. He found it hard to stay light and easy when his insides churned out the kind of anger they should never see. It was better that he tried to work it off with good old fashioned hard work than brood and give the twins anxiety.

After his mother had taken the girls back to town—a promise of a playdate with their friends—he'd spent the morning mucking stalls. Then he'd spent the early part of the afternoon riding the fence line and fixing sections that needed fixing. By the time he was done with that it was nearly three in the afternoon and he figured it was as good a time as any to get drunk. A bottle of tequila would go a long way in chasing away the thoughts that plagued him.

Where in hell was Scarlett? More importantly, why was she gone?

He rode back to the ranch house at a good clip and once he cooled down his horse, Bandit, and turned him out to the paddock, Taz hung up his tack. He'd noted Mike Paul's rig by the barn where they'd quarantined the horse Angel had brought back Monday, so he headed over there first.

May as well see how the rescue was doing.

Then he'd get drunk.

Mike Paul was hosing off his boots when Taz walked inside. He gave a nod. "He's looking good. You might want to get the farrier out sooner than later, but other than that when his quarantine time is up you can turn him out. His bloodwork came back all clear."

"Did you check on the mare and colt?" Taz asked.

"Yep. The little guy's legs are good. Sound."

The two men watched the large work horse as he buried his head in a pile of sweet alfalfa. His name was King, and his impressive size made it an apt description. His neck was scarred from a heavy yoke and years of service, and he was thin. They needed to fatten him up.

"You gonna rehome or keep this one?" Mike Paul asked, leaning against the stall.

"He's home," Taz replied. "After all those years of hard work he deserves this place." He glanced at his friend. "You got time for a beer?"

Mike Paul snorted. "I don't, but it's so damn hot I'll make time."

The two men headed for the house and Mike Paul continued on to the backyard while Taz grabbed a couple cold beers and a bag of chips from the cupboard. He joined Mike Paul and the two of them munched on sour cream onion, while sipping from cold longnecks. Any other day, this would be a fitting end, but Taz couldn't see the bright side in anything at the moment, and he scowled, stretching out his legs.

"If my mama was here, she'd tell you to turn that frown upside down." Mike Paul raised his bottle and took a good long sip. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"It's not good to bottle stuff up."

He glared at his friend.

"What?" Mike Paul said, his expression comical. "It's what my therapist told me."

"You're seeing a shrink?"

"Hell no. I'm talking about the new bartender at the Sundowner. Candy, I think her name is. She's good." He nodded and flashed a smile. "Knows her shit."

"Yeah? And what does she say about your situation?

Mike Paul's grin slowly died. "You don't want to know."

"Oh, but I do."

"She told me to move on."

"Christ, I told you that."

"I can't." Mike Paul sighed and kicked at the ground. "I figure one of these days Ivy and I will be in the same room at the same time, and she won't be able to avoid me, and we can have at it."

"That doesn't sound like much of a plan."

"It's all I got." Mike Paul sat up. "Girls are gone?"

"At my mom's."

Mike Paul checked his phone and then drained his beer. He got to his feet. "I'm headed over to Johnny's. You didn't respond to the group chat, but you should come. It's better than sitting here feeling sorry for yourself."

Socializing wasn't high on his list of things to do, but he gave his buddy a nod. "I'll think about it."

"Don't take all night. Johnny's been marinating steaks since yesterday and I hear that Lacey is making her potato salad."

Taz rolled his eyes.

"What? I like potato salad."

After Mike Paul left Taz wandered into the house. It was nearly half past four, and his place was as quiet as a church. He thought about going to his mother's, but knew she enjoyed her alone time with the girls, and at loose ends, tidied up the movie bin, the book bin and then plumped some pillows. Damn, he could give Martha Stewart a run for her money.

If the guys could see me now.

He scowled, irritated with himself, and scooped his phone from his pocket. It was an automatic thing and he scrolled down, but there were no new messages. Definitely nothing from the only person he wanted to hear from. He didn't want to think about what she was doing. About whom she was doing whatever the hell it was, with.

"Pathetic," he muttered darkly. He pocketed the cell, glanced at the clock in the kitchen and then thought screw it. If he was going to be a miserable asshole he might as well spread it around, and be miserable with his buddies.

Twenty minutes later he was showered and changed and had let Rich know he was coming to town. Rich was around to look after getting the horses in before dusk and would make sure all was well with the menagerie that called his ranch home.

He hopped in the truck and pointed it toward Big Bend. A half an hour later he pulled up to Johnny's place and then made his way around back. The guys from his ball team were there as well as a bunch of kids running mad and messing about the way kids do. He spied Johnny and Mike Paul and walked over.

"Glad you made it," Johnny said with grin. "Your timing is perfect, as always." He handed Taz a beer and then excused himself. "The steaks are nearly done."

"The girls are inside," Mike Paul said. "In case you were wondering."

"I'm not." He frowned, studying his friend. Mike Paul looked off. "You don't look so good. Are you okay?"

"She's here."

"Who?"

"Ivy."

That did surprise him. "I didn't know she was in town."

"Neither did I. Apparently she's here because there's a baby shower for Millie Sue on Sunday."

Taz couldn't help but grin, happy to have someone else's misery to dwell on. "I wonder if you'll find that alone time you were talking about." At Mike Paul's alarmed look, he chuckled. "You know to get things out in the open. Share your feelings."

"Go to hell," Mike Paul replied with a frown.

"Buddy," Taz raised his bottle. "I'm already there."

"Shit, here they come."

"I'd tell you to hold on to your balls, but I think you've already lost them."

Mike Paul ignored his comment and moved to the other side of the yard, about as far away from Ivy as he could get.

Poor bastard, Taz thought. He listened to the buzz from the folks gathered in the backyard, all of them happy, at least from what he could gather, and he thought that maybe he'd overshot. He wasn't good company for anyone.

"Taz, I didn't expect to see you." Lacey stood a few feet away. She tapped her toes nervously and attempted a smile, but it came off more like a wince. He knew she and Scarlett had become close over the summer and he wondered if she knew the answers to the questions he'd been asking for days now.

"Can I talk to you?" he said, taking the large platter from her hands and placing it on the table behind him.

"I have to get, um, some more napkins and I think we're short on paper plates."

He raised his eyebrow and pointed to the huge pile on the table. "I think we're good and…" He dropped any pretense. "I'm worried about Scarlett."

She was still unsure and conflicted, that much was obvious, but she didn't shoot him down, which was encouraging.

"Look, if she asked you to keep a secret then do it. I don't want you to break her confidence. I just need to know if she's okay."

Lacey moved a bit so that they were out of earshot to the rest of the group, and he followed her. For a long time, she said nothing and then she faced him.

"Her messages aren't telling me much."

"She's in contact with you."

Lacey nodded. "I made her promise because neither one of us trusts him."

"So, her disappearance does have something to do with David." Not that he needed confirmation.

"David?" Lacey asked, clearly puzzled.

"Malcom David. Hank's father."

"Oh, right." She glanced over her shoulder and then back to him. "Actually, his name is Kingsley." Her mouth twitched as if she were about to cross a line. "Malcom David Kingsley. Apparently, he's an Earl or something and that's already too much information. I promised Scarlett I wouldn't say a word, especially to you or Cal or Benton."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. She knew that whatever she was up to would get the kind of reaction she didn't want to deal with. The dark, angry kind.

"Where is she?" he bit out.

"I can't, Taz. I'm sorry but I promised."

"Lacey! I need some help." Her husband held up his hands and she began to back away.

"All I will say is that she flew out of Bozeman on Monday. I really wish I could tell you more but…I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're a good friend."

Taz waited until she joined her husband and then he moved deeper into the shadows. He grabbed his cell phone and called the only man he trusted to do the kind of work he needed done. A man he'd used for Temple Holdings more times than he could count. Greg Brecker picked up on the first ring.

"Brecker."

"I need as much info as I can get on a man named Malcom David Kingsley. He's from Ireland, or maybe the UK. The family might have some kind of title."

"How deep?"

Face set in stone, Taz started for the gate. It felt good to act. He was done waiting for things to play out. "As deep as you can go."

"On it, boss."

"I need this info by yesterday."

"I'll call you as soon as I have what you need."

"You're leaving?" Lacey asked as he approached the table.

"Yeah."

"Are you going after Scarlett?"

He didn't hesitate.

"I am."

Lacey held his gaze for a few heartbeats. "Okay," she said softly. "Bring her home."

Taz strode out to his truck and jumped inside. The engine roared to life but before he turned it toward Dry Creek Road, he had one more phone call to make. He scrolled through his contacts and hit up Benton Bridgestone.