CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT Benedict

A fter the Charlie event at Smitty's, Hunt and I shared several heartfelt conversations. He was disgusted with himself for how he'd treated Charlie, but I reminded him that, like Charlie, he was hurting at the time as well.

Hunt admitted he used Charlie for sex to cope with the loneliness. He hadn't stopped to ask if what he was involved in was healthy for either of them. It wasn't, but I assured him that his own mental state was shattered. While not an excuse, it had happened, and he needed to forgive himself.

As far as Charlie went, I called him several times a week and checked in on him. I promised Agnes that I was not getting involved with him in that way. She revealed her concerns regarding her grandson's need to be loved. She didn't want to hurt Charlie, but she understood that any attempt by him to be with me was just a chance to get at Hunt.

She said that Charlie had loved Hunt his entire life. Charlie had even tried moving to New York City to get away, but the draw he had for Hunt was just too much for him, and he returned home. After Mark's death, he obsessed over his chances of being with him, convinced he'd finally get that chance. His chance didn't happen, and the results were catastrophic to his mental well-being.

I told Hunt that I intended to help Charlie and to be his friend. I noticed the grave look on his face and him swallowing a bitter pill, but he held his opinion inside. For us to succeed, someone had to be the bigger person and solve the Charlie issue. I felt I was best prepared to do just that.

I heard Hunter's SUV in the parking lot. I peeked out of the second-story window of the clinic. Hunt looked up and caught me looking out. I waved and let the warm rush of affection run through me. I hadn't revealed the news yet, but I loved Hunter Copeland. In fact, I might tell him today.

"Thank you for this, Hunt," I said, pulling myself into the Tahoe. "Is the Tahoe a good idea for this visit?"

"Hopefully the blue lights, and the fact Sheriff is emblazoned on all sides will keep him calm," he replied. "And you sure you're up to this?"

"I am," I said. "I need to know what it is I own and what I intend to do with the assets."

"He's not a nice man," he stated. "And I haven't seen him in years."

Hunter had revealed that there were other reasons beyond his father wanting to sell Triple H Ranch for why he and his father no longer spoke. He reminded me he assumed I'd known about my father selling the ranch when I showed up in Plentywood so suddenly. Besides the town losing so much funding from the trust, and his selfish father going along with the plan to gain some land and a house, Hunt blamed his father for his mother's move to escape a bad marriage.

Hunter's father was a legendary womanizer and treated his wife horribly, refusing to change or even consider therapy. His stance was that he ruled the roost as the provider and that she had no vote about what he chose to do. At only eighteen, Hunt was in that mid-spot of being a child still, while legally an adult. For years he grudgingly stayed on at the ranch so he could stay in Plentywood for Mark.

"I'll do my best to not prejudge your father, but he obviously knew about the plan to cut me out. What I haven't figured out yet is why my father wanted me here. Wouldn't he think I'd learn about the ranch?" I asked.

"How involved were you with your family's businesses?" he asked.

"I never bothered with it," I admitted. "My father is a control freak, and I just went along. Sadly, he paid my bills, so I didn't ask the important questions."

Hunt's expression was one of concern for me. The corners of his mouth turned down, and he held my hand. "I know we've beat this question to death, but why did you even come to Plentywood?"

"Truthfully?" I replied, hoping not to hurt his feelings. Hunt nodded reluctantly. "I thought I had to, or I'd lose my allowance," I confessed.

"You came here over an allowance squabble?" he asked. " Allowance? For real?"

"Twenty thousand a month," I muttered, looking at him and feeling like an imposter. "And access to a thirty-million-dollar trust in a few years."

Hunt exhaled, adding a whistle to his assessment of my admission. "For fuck's sake, baby. I guess you would've moved to Bumfuck, Egypt, for that amount."

I laughed out loud. "That's what I thought Plentywood was when I was told I had to come here."

Hunt also laughed at my honesty concerning my initial thought of his town. "Don't you think it's strange that your father forced you to come here?" he asked. "I mean, what if you ended up liking it here?"

"I do like it here," I replied. "Maybe he assumed I wouldn't, considering my privileged life before then."

"But still," Hunt pondered. "Think about it, Ben," he began, becoming suddenly animated with his thought train. "You knew nothing about Plentywood, right?" I nodded, agreeing I hadn't known shit about the town, or Montana, for that matter.

"You're right. That is true," I said.

"And if you'd always just signed whatever documents you were presented, why make you come here? You could've simply been kept in the dark and he could've done whatever he wanted to do with your assets."

My lips pursed as I let Hunt's words marinate in my brain. He was correct. My grandmother set up the trusts and my father and his slimy attorney handled them. I had zero clue what happened because I didn't give a shit about business. I was too busy wanting to be a doctor to the stars in a fancy town of wealthy people.

"My father told me I'd made a promise to my grandmother that I'd spend a year here," I shared. "He even waved a piece a paper in my face to prove it."

"Did you read that paper?"

I exhaled sharply and faced him. "What do you think?" I asked. "Of course, I didn't."

"And why a year exactly?" Hunt asked. "Even that part sounds fishy. You'd never heard of Plentywood, Montana, for starters. Other than that your ancestors had lived here. And then, he threatens to cut off your money so you'll come here? None of it makes sense, Ben."

I held my hand up. "But yet," I started. "I now know about the one trust, as well as another even bigger trust, and that I'm the actual owner of the most valuable piece of that trust, the vast landholdings," I ended, still confused. "I just don't get it?" I said, exhausted at the mindfuck of it all.

"And you think my dad knows? Or better yet, that he'll want to help you figure it out? I'm not hopeful he will."

I was quiet for a moment while I stared through the windshield and at the old garage in the parking lot of the clinic. The design was similar to the Victorian style of the house. The distraction of the building did not bring any ideas to the forefront of my mind.

I turned back to Hunt. "You said he thinks he's getting the house and some land if he helps my father sell the ranch?" Hunt nodded. "Hmmm," I mused. "What if I threaten to remove him from my land?"

Hunter tilted his head, shaking it like my idea was not a good one. "I don't know, baby. Then what? Can you manage a ten-thousand-acre ranch? Because I sure as hell can't."

"There must be workers or some sort of crew, right?"

"Yeah. There're dozens of employees," he stated.

"Employees that could lose their jobs if my father sells," I pointed out. "Employees I bet your father might actually care for. Employees the ranch needs if it doesn't sell easily. What do you think those employees will do if they find out they might lose those jobs?"

"They'd go to neighboring ranches," he said.

I grinned at Hunt. "Exactly. Let's go meet your father," I said.

Hunter eyed me cautiously. "What are you up to?" he muttered. "And when did you become this superman of caring about Plentywood and its people?"

"Since I found out I can impact this town's survival," I said. "That's when. And, I like it here," I added. "And… I love you. Are those enough reasons?"

Hunter froze in his seat, his eyes filling. "You love me?" he asked.

"Yes, I do," I said. "Is that going to be okay?"

Hunter reached across the seat and dragged me toward him. He held the sides of my face and kissed me tenderly, pulling away, and then quickly kissing me again. After three or four times, he sat back in his seat, his emotions getting the better of him.

"I never thought I'd ever hear those words again," he whispered, swiping at his eyes as he tried to remain the tough, stoic man he wanted to present.

Hunter composed himself and then a thought seemed to enter his mind as his face grew more serious. "But what about… what if you decide to…?"

I reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "But what if I don't? What if I stayed in Plentywood?"

"You would do that? I mean, do you think you even could do that?"

"Seems like to be with you, I might need to stay here," I said. "I have a town that needs me and I have a man that I need. Now put this rig in gear and let's go check out my ranch."

Hunter continued looking back and forth between the highway and the man beside him. Me. Maybe he wasn't sure he'd heard me correctly, or he worried I'd change my mind. Like the country road, I was unsure what laid at the end of it, but for the first time in my life, I saw a path worth taking.