A Father's Stake. Mary Anne Wilson

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       CHAPTER ONE

      IT HAD BEEN almost two years.

      To him it seemed an eternity since his life had been torn apart, and now, it had happened again.

      Jackson Wolf Carson sat on the stone step that led up to the porch of the old adobe house, and he could feel that gut-wrenching churning once more. He thought he’d moved past that in the two years since his wife, Robyn, had died. But he was wrong. It had stayed there, hiding, until an hour ago when he’d gone to the family ranch to confront his father.

      That shattering encounter had brought those old emotions back to life and this time he wasn’t sure how he could get beyond them without giving up...for good.

      He closed his eyes and ran a hand roughly over his face, damp with sweat that came from the baking July sun beating down on the fallow three hundred acres spreading out all around him. Life had gone on while he’d wandered through the days and nights of the past two years alone. He’d finally thought he had found an anchor, something to hold on to. But any hope he’d let flicker back to life had been extinguished at nine o’clock that morning, the moment he’d walked into his law offices in Wolf Lake.

      The email had come with four attachments. He’d thought his contact in the county offices had sent it, but the moment he started to read the letter, he knew he was wrong. Dead wrong.

      Disbelief had given way to a burning anger at his father’s betrayal. He almost cringed at his reaction. He’d driven to the ranch, burst into his father’s office and thrown the papers at him. He’d yelled, kicked the massive desk so hard it jarred his entire body, but his father just sat behind the desk without saying a word. It was his mother who’d come up behind him, her face filled with horror, and asked what was wrong.

      One look into her eyes and he realized she’d been betrayed as badly as he had. Without looking at his father again, he’d touched his mother’s shoulder. “Ask him,” was all he’d said before storming out, heading for the old ranch adjoining his parents’ spread.

      He took off his baseball cap, raked his fingers through his shoulder-length, iron-straight black hair, then slapped the navy hat against his denim-covered thigh. He’d been so sure the old adobe house and the land sprawling around it was the connection he needed so desperately in his life. Each brick of the low structure had been handmade by Jack’s grandfather, Jackson Wolf, the man he’d been named for. The older man had passed away more than three years back, going quietly at the age of ninety-two, outliving his only wife by almost twenty years.

      His grandpa had come down from the reservation with his wife, down from the high country in the foothills of distant mountains to the low valley, all Wolf land. It had been his people’s land, generation after generation. He’d worked against the odds to make a life for his family, creating one of the best grazing areas in the state and building a home for his seven children. This place had always been a second home to Jack.

      Jack narrowed his eyes and gazed into the distance, the land shimmering in the oppressive heat. Generation after generation of the Wolf people were embedded in the very soil of this land. The town of Wolf Lake bore the people’s name. And Jack had figured out that his only hope for survival was to hold on to that past and try to make a future by taking over this place.

      He stood, tugged the cap sharply to shade his eyes, and stretched in an attempt to release some of the knotting tension in his shoulders and neck. He took the steps down to the packed earth and gravel of the drive, where dust motes curled up into the still air. The parched scent of sage and grass only made the place feel more deserted. The ranch had been closed since his grandfather died, and all the joy he’d brought to this land had gone with him. Jack wanted it back with a vengeance.

      He kicked at a rock near the drive, hitting it squarely and sending it sailing through the air toward the run-down stables that sprawled on the low hill beyond the house. He’d never seen this coming. He’d never thought his own father could do this. He’d never dreamt, that after every promise and every protestation, his father would damage everything again.

      He turned his gaze to the drive that disappeared over a rise beyond the stables then cut down through the grazing land to the main road. The sound of a car engine was barely audible, and when a cloud of dust rose up over the roof of the stables, he knew his phone calls had worked.

      He’d made the first of two phone calls fifteen minutes after he’d practically run from his parents’ house. Sitting then in his red Jeep at the end of the drive, he’d phoned his brothers; he hadn’t been able to move from the spot since.

      A police cruiser crested the hill, followed by the billowing dust. He hadn’t wanted to pull either brother into this right away, but he needed them. And, realistically, there was no other way this could all play out.

      The cruiser pulled in behind his red Jeep, the engine died and the door swung back as Adam stepped out. It still felt odd to see his kid brother in his police uniform, the billed cap shading his eyes. It had only been a month since he’d come back from Chicago, alone. Faith, the woman he’d left with, had stayed there with her father following his conviction in federal court for a series of fraudulent business practices. Adam had quit his job as a detective in Dallas, Texas, before he had gone to Chicago, and joined the Wolf Lake Police Force when he returned, working side by side with Chief John Longbow, a family friend since they were kids. Adam said he’d come back for the job, and he probably had, but Jack knew it was also because his brother was concerned about him. That hurt, to think people altered their lives to try and repair his. And now Adam was walking into another rescue mission, but Jack wouldn’t let it come to that.

      He raised a hand, and saw the strained look on his brother’s face. Before Adam could say anything, Jack cut him off. “Let’s talk when Gage gets here. He shook his head. “I can only do this once.”

      Adam didn’t fight him, just nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s your call.”

      His younger brother stood an inch or so below Jack’s six-foot-two, but had the same broad shoulders. All the Carson brothers had inherited the dark eyes, dark hair, and bronzed skin of their mother’s ancestors.

      Jack found himself saying, “I’m sorry.” And he realized he was apologizing for the past two years, for all he knew they’d СКАЧАТЬ