“No, I haven’t talked to Domini, besides when she swings by to refill my coffee. She’s been a little busy around here.”
“Why? Did Cat take off again?”
“Huh-uh. Cat got fired.”
“What! When?”
Cam beckoned her closer. “You didn’t hear this from me. But after Domini’s, ah, talk with you the other night, she was furious. She got Macie and Velma on a conference call and gave them what-for. Said she was sick of covering for Cat’s incompetence and sick of not being able to keep employees because no one wanted to work for, or with, Cat.”
“Holy crap. What’d Macie say? She and Cat are old friends, aren’t they?”
“Were friends. Evidently Cat said some crappy things when she was in Canyon River and Macie was already upset. Coupled with the fact sweet Domini tossed out the ultimatum of keeping Cat and losing her, they fired Cat. Domini is the new manager.” Cam grinned. “I’m so damn proud of her. I knew there was fire beneath that ice.”
“I’ll congratulate her later.” Her eyes searched Cam’s face for clues. “So you really don’t know where Colt went?”
“Nope.”
“I’m worried about him. Really worried.” She held up a hand. “Not that he’s crawled inside a bottle, but I hate thinking he’s hurting alone.”
“Me too.” Cam considered her over his coffee cup. “Did you cause that hurt?”
India looked him straight in the eye. “Yep. I’m not proud of it. But since I caused the hurt, I intend to heal it.”
“I think you already have.”
That was a weird statement. “So what’s your advice?”
“Talk to my mother. She may have an idea of where he’s gone off to. But don’t call her,” he warned. “Face to face is always best with her.”
“Thank you.”
Right. Talk to Carolyn McKay. Their last conversation had gone so well. But this wasn’t about Carolyn. This was about Colt. He was all that mattered.
She closed the shop and drove out to the McKay homestead.
Her bravado faded a bit when Carson McKay greeted her on the front steps. “Mornin’, India. Something I can do for you?”
How had she not noticed Colt was the spitting image of his father? In another thirty odd years, Colt would look exactly like this man. Handsome. Regal. She couldn’t wait to watch the transformation take place as she and Colt grew old together.
The truth of that statement pumped up her courage to meet that suspicious blue gaze—so much like Colt’s—dead on.
“Yes, Carson, there is something you can do for me. I need to talk to your wife.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“I’m thinkin’ about getting a dog.”His horse, Laramie, snorted.
“I’m serious. Maybe a blue heeler. He’d keep you in line.”
Laramie snorted again.
Colt laughed. “Then again, I probably wouldn’t have any better luck keepin’ a dog in line, than I do keepin’ anything else in my life in line. ’Cept maybe for this fishin’ line.” He chuckled again. “A great joke lost on a horse.”
If he didn’t know better, Colt would swear Laramie rolled his eyes.
He shifted on the log. Time to move. His ass was sore. He tugged on the fishing line. Nothing. He walked over to where he’d ground-tied Laramie. “You ready to hit the trail?”
After hiding out at his favorite fishing hole for three days, Colt was ready to head home. The pine-covered hills on either side of the small pond, and the rock cliff on the backside, made this site inaccessible, except on foot or horseback.
Few people were aware of this slice of paradise. The terrain was too dangerous for livestock, which also meant nothing worth selling would grow on it. Wasn’t like the sage, rocks, cactus, and scrub pines were unique. Yet, for some reason, those elements served to hide this area well.
He and Dag had discovered this place one year when they’d drifted off West land. They’d likened themselves to Lewis and Clark—explorers, discoverers, adventurers. Every year after that, they’d load up the horses, basic supplies and spend a couple days roughing it. Fishing. Bullshitting. Planning. Later in their teen years, they drank like fish as they fished, bullshitted, and bragged about their future plans.
Dag had dreams of becoming a rodeo star. Living in California. Colt was one of the few who hadn’t laughed at Dag or his dreams because Dag might actually get to live his fantasy. Whereas Colt knew he’d never have that choice. He’d live on the McKay Ranch for the rest of his life.
Thinking back on those times, Colt realized he’d been happy in that knowledge. That surety. He didn’t have to choose a career; his heritage had chosen it for him.