CHAPTER FORTY-NINE HUNTER

T he farmhouse I'd spent more than half my life in was just ahead on the right side of the highway. An archway above the driveway denoted the entry to the ranch with the words ‘ TRIPLE H RANCH ' visible from this distance.

"That's a ranch?" Ben asked. "Looks like a house on the side of the road."

"The ranch is the land on both sides of the road and as far as you can see in all directions," I said. "For miles in all directions," I emphasized.

He scanned the horizon in all directions as he tried to fathom the scope of land mass. Rolling hills meandered in all directions, and as far as to the Canadian border to our north.

"Your ranch shares a border with Canada," I said. "Chew on that for a bit."

A whooshing exhale exited Ben's mouth as he pondered that statement. " Yikes ," was his analysis of the fact.

Ben and I remained inside the Tahoe when we pulled in front of the older farmhouse on the ranch and parked. After thirty seconds or so, my dad came out of the front door and onto the expansive porch that wrapped three sides of the house. Dad held a shotgun in his arms.

He hadn't changed much. His gait appeared slower. He bent over a bit more than usual. The blond hair we'd shared for most of my life was gray on his head now, but he was still a large man. Very much built like me. Ranching had taken its toll on his body, but there was no denying he still had a large presence.

"Jesus!" I muttered, patting Ben's hand. "Sit tight, Ben. Do not get out of the truck."

"Don't go out there," Ben whispered.

"Stay in your seat until I come around the truck for you, baby," I instructed.

I stepped from the Tahoe and held up a hand toward my dad. "Put the shotgun down, Dad," I hollered across the graveled drive. "I'm the fucking Sheriff," I added for clarity.

My dad jutted his shotgun toward the Tahoe. "And who the fuck is that?"

Without waiting for me to come around to get him, Ben stepped out of the rig and waved. "Ben Hawthorne, sir," he greeted.

My dad studied Ben carefully and then focused on me. "Why is he here?" Dad asked me. "I didn't give permission for him to be here."

"Ben wanted to meet you, Dad. He's not here to bother you."

"Why?" he insisted. "I don't take orders from any Hawthorne but Senior."

Ben stepped to the front of the truck and to my side. "I'm his son," he said. "I wanted to check out the ranch, sir."

"I know you're his son, for fuck's sake," Dad countered. "But Senior didn't say you'd be out here sniffing around while you're in town."

"So my father told you I was going to be in Plentywood, sir?"

"He did. Said you'd be here for one year only," Dad said, slowly descending the steps.

One of Dad's coon hounds shuffled off the ground near the bottom of the steps and joined him at his hip. Dad held the shotgun across his chest as he eyed both of us.

"Did my father tell you why I came to Plentywood?" Ben pushed.

"So he could sell the ranch, I assume," Dad said, cupping his eyes and surveying the land around the house.

Unlike most farms or ranches, where the main house was the center of the farm with several outbuildings surrounding it, the bulk of the working ranch was three miles away. Massive buildings for equipment and livestock were located there. The ranch was so vast that there were several homes scattered around the ten thousand acres, where assistant foremen and workers lived as well.

I was unsure why Dad answered the way he did, so I decided to see what he knew about it. "Why does Ben being here have anything to do with the sale of the ranch, Dad?"

Dad's eyes narrowed when I spoke. "Cut the shit, Hunter. What the fuck do you two want?"

Ben stepped closer to my dad, extending his hand. Dad simply stared at it and ignored the polite gesture. I kept a wary eye on him and one on Ben. Ben didn't know what an asshole my dad could be, and I didn't want Dad to hurt Ben's feelings. I'd had a lifetime of being toughened up to him, but this was new for Ben.

Ben pulled his hand back and looked at my dad with disdain. "Maybe you know this, sir. Perhaps you don't. But I own Triple H Ranch," Ben stated. "And if I want to tour my land, I'll do just that. So you can be respectful of your son and of me, or I'll use other means to remove you. How would you like to proceed?"

I was stunned by Ben's remarks. Here was a man who had many facets I hadn't expected to see. He was smart. I knew that. He was incredibly empathetic. I'd witnessed that at the bar and how he dealt with Charlie. But this man? He was direct and strong. What a serious contradiction to how he acted with me. Ben preferred a passive role, but I had to admit, his directness and firm way of speaking were hot as fuck.

My dad looked from Ben to me. It was obvious he hadn't expected Ben's approach any more than I had.

"Found a replacement for your dead husband , have ya, Hunter?" Dad asked. "Another fruit to do your bidding?"

"That'll be quite enough, Dad," I hissed. "Ben is the owner of Triple H, and I have a feeling you already know that fact."

"Yeah, I heard," he muttered. Dad glanced at Ben. "But ain't you heading back to New York City next May?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," Ben replied. "What difference does it make?"

Dad pulled the toothpick he'd been chewing out of his mouth and eyed Ben suspiciously. There was something about Dad's demeanor that worried me. He knew something, and he didn't appear to want us to know. Perhaps it was a hunch, but I knew his conniving face well. I'd seen him manipulate my mom with the same expression many times.

"How'd you find out about the trust, kid?" Dad asked, flicking the toothpick to the ground. "Your old man said you was queer like my kid. Said you wouldn't last a day in Plentywood."

"Sounds like something my father would say," Ben agreed. "And he's right. I might not last until next May, but that changes nothing."

Dad spit and adjusted his stance. I knew he was wondering what Ben knew and what Ben didn't know. He was correct. We hadn't connected all the dots just yet. "Is that right, boy?" he snorted. "I guess we'll see about that come May."

I glanced around the fields near the house while my dad peacocked and acted like the tough guy he thought he was. There was a large piece of equipment I'd never seen on a ridge above us, maybe an eighth of a mile uphill. The structure definitely had nothing to do with farming. "What is that, Dad?" I asked, pointing toward the large yellow machine. He didn't look toward what I'd gestured at, purposely ignoring me. But Ben did.

"What is that, Hunt?" Ben asked. "Is it a drilling machine of some kind?"

I had no idea, so I turned to my dad. "Dad?"

"Nothing you need to know about," he stated. "You fruits can leave now. And you can call your old man if you need more information," he added, motioning to Ben. "Because I'm done yakking."

"I'm going up there," Ben announced.

"The hell you are," Dad erupted, repositioning his shot gun.

"What are you going to do, sir? Shoot me?" Ben asked, leveling his eyes at him. Ben glanced my way. "Sheriff, this is my land, so I'm asking you. Is it in my rights to go check out what that machine is?"

"As far as I know, it's your right, Mr. Hawthorne," I stated. "And if this man tries to prevent you, I'll arrest his ass."

Dad was madder than a hornet in a sprinkler, moving his head back and forth between us, snorting imaginary fire from his nose. Ben began walking up the slope.

"Get back here, boy!" he yelled, racing after Ben and fighting to keep up. "That is none of your business, you little fucker!" he hollered, staggering and mumbling as he tried to stay upright while he scurried up the slope.

I shook my head in disgust and chased after the both of them. Dad was easy to overtake, but Ben had a full head of steam and was racing to the top of the hill. By the time I passed Dad and caught up with Ben, he was standing by a machine that towered over both of us by at least a hundred feet in height.

"What is this, Hunt?" he asked.

Part of the machine that looked like a robotic arm was inside an open ditch in the earth, while the massive remaining piece was supported by huge steel pillars that could only be described as legs, and all four sat on a metal platform. Was this a drill for wells? The ranch had over thirty wells on it already and I could clearly see the pump house below us where the main house's well was located, so I doubted they were digging for more water.

"Hunt?" Ben repeated. "What is this giant machine used for?"

"Get away from that!" Dad yelled, huffing and puffing as he caught up with us. "This is none of your business, so get off my land."

Ben faced him and displayed what was probably the meanest face he could muster at such short notice. "This is my ranch, asshole!"

Dad was taken aback. Like me, he hadn't thought this fancy-dressed man had it in him. I moved to the huge behemoth beside us all, my eyes moving up the towering mechanical device. It was definitely a drill of some type. I turned to face Ben when my eyes traveled across the land to the east. We were on top of a knoll and could now see hundreds of acres of land beyond.

"What the…?" I muttered, raising my hand and pointing in the distance.

Ben stood motionless as he scanned the horizon. "Holy shit," he mumbled. "These things are everywhere, Hunt."

I faced my dad. "You are not looking for water, Dad. What the hell are all of those machines looking for?" I demanded. "And zero bullshit, old man. What are they?"

Dad turned away and studied the machines in the far distance. "You weren't supposed to come out here, Junior," he said, putting his hands deep into his pockets. "Senior is not gonna be happy about this."

Ben stepped near my dad, also gazing at all the yellow monster-like machines across the ranch. "What are they, sir?" he asked.

Dad remained fixated on the view, whispering to himself under his breath for a few moments. Then he turned back to us, focusing on Ben. "I told him you'd eventually find your way out here. I told him his idea was fucking flawed," he defended. "But I needed a place to live, Junior. I did this because I needed a house to live in when I'm too old to work anymore."

"Dad, what are they?" I asked.

Dad kicked at the ground, seeming frustrated by the turn of events. "They found natural gas reserves. The exploratory drills are all over the ranch, son," Dad said, exhaling slowly, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat. "Some geologist suspected huge reserves because the neighboring ranch has natural gas under it too. Old man Hawthorne had sample drilling sites commissioned, and son-of-a-bitch if there aren't millions, maybe billions, of gallons underneath us right now."

"Jesus!" Ben gasped. "Everywhere on the ranch?"

Dad nodded. "More drills coming this year. The gas is worth billions, Junior."

Ben was confused by the entire scene in front of him. I sensed him digging through his mind with a million questions about what was going on and why. "He never told me," Ben whispered. "But then again, I never asked either."

"Your old man said you'd never suspect a thing. He actually referred to you as clueless," he admitted. "He plans to sell the entire ranch to a huge energy company out of Texas."

"But what about the house deal for you?" Ben asked. "Hunt told me you get the farmhouse."

"I get ten acres by the road and the house if I cooperate," Dad admitted. "When you leave next May, the terms of the trust would've been met. Senior could sell it."

"Terms would be met? If I leave? How?" Ben demanded.

"Your gramma wanted you to visit Plentywood at least once. She put the ranch in trust for you because she figured you'd want to continue to support her causes in town once you visited here," Dad began. "Your grampa never got over your old man leaving for college and then refusing to return. They decided that if another generation refused to return, then the ranch could be sold. But your gramma insisted that her only grandchild had to spend a year here before it could be sold. She insisted the terms be in the trust. She wanted the chance for you to see Plentywood. Then your dad found the gas."

Ben looked wrecked as he listened to my dad. All the remaining blanks were being filled in and the answers he'd wanted came flowing forth from my dad. "My father knew I'd protest about coming here. And he knew I'd hate Plentywood once I did," Ben said, crossing his arms and surveying the land. "He knew I wouldn't ask any questions. And he figured that I'd bail as soon as I could. Next May."

"He was planning on exactly that. When you leave after a year, the trust ends and reverts to Hawthorne Holdings. His company," Dad said. "Your father wants the money and doesn't give one single shit about this town."

"And what about you, sir?" Ben asked. "You lived and worked here for decades. Why would you go along with his plan?"

"Because I got nothing. My old lady ran off because I'm a jerk, and my own son won't visit me anymore. I've been a selfish old fool, I guess."

Dad turned away from me, and I supposed emotion got the best of him when I noticed his back heave as he fought the reality of his life.

Ben stepped behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Would you stay on and manage my ranch if I stop all of this, sir?" Ben asked. "I'll figure out a way for you to have an ownership interest in your house for as long as you live. But I need to assure that the ranch lives on for years and years so the town can thrive."

Dad turned to face Ben. I'd never seen my dad tear up. Frankly, I didn't think he had the compassion for such a reaction. "You'd do that?" Dad asked. "You don't even know me, son."

"I know him," Ben said, gesturing to me. "He gets his strength and caring from someone. I'm willing to bet some of that kindness came from you."

"Most likely his mother," Dad corrected. "I never deserved her."

Dad's admission shocked me. He'd never admitted that to Mom. Perhaps she would've stayed had he done so. What I saw now was a broken old man who knew he'd fucked up. Maybe I could find some forgiveness somewhere in my own heart.

"Are these drills active, Dad?" I asked.

"Not yet," he replied. "Senior is just waiting for Junior to bail eight months from now."

"Not happening, sir. Sit tight and keep taking care of our ranch," Ben stated. "I got you."

We walked down the hill and Dad shook Ben's hand. He stood nervously and glanced at me. "I'm sorry, son," he said.

"I know you are, Dad," I replied. We were both uncomfortable, not sure if we should, or even could, hug each other. "Meet me at the diner tomorrow, Pops?"

"I'd like that, son."

Ben and I were halfway home and neither of us had spoken a word since we got into the Tahoe. I'm sure he had dozens of things on his mind, and I was so overcome with sentiment about Dad that I was afraid to speak and reveal my emotional state.

Dad looked beaten down. Like a billion-pound secret had been eating at him since he'd gone along with Ben's father. My dad loved Plentywood, and he loved the ranch more than life itself. I was certain of that fact. I'd been pissed at my dad when he told me the plan about agreeing to sell in the past, but I got his reason now. He was alone. He'd been afraid of ending up with nothing.

My throat constricted when I thought about my relationship with my dad. "You did a nice thing back there," I whispered, fighting my emotional response to seeing my dad. "You are really something, Ben. You know that? And I love you because of your kind heart."

"Let's fix this problem, Hunt. Then we'll fix our family after."

"How do you do this?" I asked.

Ben turned to face me, and I saw he'd been crying. "And what am I doing?"

"You continue to amaze, baby. You are so much more than I could've imagined," I said. "I realized these past few weeks that I'd been so wrong about you in the beginning. Trust me, I wanted you so badly back then, and it hurt. But God! What a special man you've become!"

"I like this life," he whispered. "I like Plentywood, but I love you, Hunter."

I reached for his hand and turned back to the road. I thought about the day I'd seen the picture of Ben on the cover of the newspaper. My heart hurt that day because of the man in the picture. I remember saying to myself that I wished he was coming for me.

Maybe he had. But I think he may have come for all of us in Plentywood.