Chapter 26
INDYA
It was Blaine’s blond hair that made me do a double take as I glanced from the sink to the door.
West’s frame blocked most of the threshold, but as he crossed his arms over his chest, his body shifted, and I caught sight of Blaine’s hair.
I’d know that hair anywhere.
Blaine wore it short and flawlessly styled. Whenever I’d muss it with my fingertips, he’d fix it immediately, making sure every strand was in the right place. It was always combed and gelled, even on the weekends when we were home together. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t anyone in the world to see him disheveled; he had to be perfect.
His morning routine included thirty minutes at the bathroom mirror working on that damn hair.
It was a stark contrast to West’s dark strands, especially tonight.
West’s hair was sticking up at odd angles thanks to my fingers tousling it in the bedroom.
Oh, God. What the hell was Blaine doing here? If he was here to back out of our deal . . .
No. He wouldn’t back out. Not now. We’d come too far. Besides, Blaine hated Montana.
I refused to let him ruin this for me. Refused. So I washed my hands, squared my shoulders, and crossed the room on bare feet, keeping quiet.
“Where is Indya?” There was venom in Blaine’s question.
“Right here,” I said, coming to a stop beside West.
Blaine looked me up and down, taking in West’s shirt that was too big on my frame. I’d tucked it into the front of my shorts, but the tail
tipped so low it hung to the hem of my shorts, only their frayed edges hanging longer.
He kept his gaze locked on mine as he spoke to West. “I’d like a
minute alone with my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” I corrected.
Blaine’s expression turned murderous. “Indya, you have made me travel all the way to Montana for this.”
“I didn’t make you do anything.”
“Didn’t you?” He arched an eyebrow. “You had a choice.”
Had I known he’d come here, maybe I would have gone to Texas after all. Except for too long, I’d changed my plans to accommodate Blaine’s. I’d bent to his will. His demands.
Maybe I should have bent one more time.
Then this would be over.
He didn’t need to explain why he was here. I knew why.
“Your office, Indya. Let’s go.”
Fuck you, Blaine. It took every shred of my control to keep those words inside.
I was about to take a step, to swallow my pride so this would just be over, when West’s hand found the small of my back.
He gripped my shirt, not hard, but enough that there was no way I was leaving this house. Then he offered his free hand to Blaine.
“West Haven.”
“Blaine Hamilton.” Blaine looked like he’d rather touch a rattlesnake, but he shook West’s hand. And winced.
West squeezed so hard that one of Blaine’s knuckles cracked.
I pulled in my lips to hide a smile. For me, those hands meant pleasure and worship. For Blaine, well . . . maybe he’d think twice before barking orders in my face.
“I don’t believe we’ve actually met,” West said, releasing Blaine.
No, they hadn’t met. The one and only time I’d brought Blaine to Montana, I’d never tried to make introductions. Not that West had been around much that trip.
Just that day he’d found me in a meadow along the road, picking flowers.
The day he’d told me that his engagement had fallen apart.
The day I’d cried in the shower until the water had run cold, devastated that he hadn’t gotten married.
But I had.
We were so close this time. Finally. After all these years, we might
actually get it right.
Unless Blaine fucked it up.
“West.” I looked up to him, my eyes pleading. “Can we have a minute?”
It didn’t surprise me in the slightest when West shook his head.
Maybe if Blaine had been polite, West would have left us alone. But Blaine was being Blaine. So whatever he’d come here to say, West would hear too.
My heart sank. This wasn’t how I wanted him to find out the truth.
I just hoped, when it was done, he’d understand. So I sighed and stepped back, waving Blaine inside. “Come in.”
“Your office.” He pointed to the lodge.
“Is in here tonight.” West’s jaw clenched, and only a fool would argue with his tone.
Blaine was an asshole. But he wasn’t a fool. “Fine.”
He bent to pick up the briefcase at his feet, then stepped past West.
His glare stayed locked on me as I led him to the dining room table. The moment he was in a seat, he pulled his phone from his pocket, then sent his fingers flying over the screen. “My assistant is in the lodge. Waiting to join us in your office.”
I sank into the seat opposite his, Blaine’s presence zapping any energy I’d had from earlier.
West came to stand behind me, his hands going to the back of my chair.
“Why did you bring your assistant?” I asked.
“He’s a notary.” He unfastened his case and pulled out a manila
folder.
The paperwork.
He was here to see our deal through.
“What happened to Monday?”
“The attorneys finalized the contract this morning,” he said. “I want this finished and see no reason to wait.”
So he’d flown all the way to Montana on a Saturday, dragging his poor assistant along, when he could have waited. It couldn’t be finalized until Monday anyway. Why come here on a weekend?
Blaine was a pain in my ass, but he wasn’t impulsive. He was strategic in everything he did. Unless . . .
Unless he was scared.
He met my gaze and, for a split second, let me see a hint of insecurity. Fear. A weakness he would never admit.
His future was in my hands.
Until I signed his papers.
“You think I’ll change my mind,” I said.
“Yes. And I’m not taking that risk.” He turned the papers to face me
and slid them across the table.
His desperation was showing.
I almost laughed. Maybe I would have if it weren’t so sad.
Was that why he’d been so insistent in emails? Was that the reason for the calls? If he knew me, he’d know there was nothing to worry about.
I wouldn’t waver from my decision. Not in the slightest. I’d given him my word. I didn’t break promises.
But Blaine didn’t know me. Not even a bit. How was it possible that I’d been married to this man for years and we were practically strangers?
West and I had been together only during stolen weeks. Fleeting summer vacations. Yet he knew me. Maybe not the little details, but we were fixing that. Together.
Maybe if Blaine had bothered to put in a fraction of the effort West had shown me, maybe if he had dropped his guard when we were married, we would have ended our marriage as friends.
It still would have ended. That was inevitable.
Blaine had never been in love with me. I’d never been in love with Blaine.
But we might have at least parted ways on good terms.
Not for each other’s sake. But for Dad’s.
My father had loved Blaine. And in his own way, I think Blaine had
cared for Dad too.
A knock came at the door.
I shifted to stand, but West moved across the room first, then opened the door to a Black man dressed similarly to Blaine in a pair of starched jeans and a solid polo shirt.
He must be new to Blaine’s staff, because I didn’t recognize him.
The assistant carried his own briefcase. He set it on the table before taking a seat in the chair beside Blaine. Then he wordlessly opened the case to retrieve a pen and his notary materials.
I looked between the two of them, waiting for an introduction that never came.
“I’m Indya.” I stretched my arm across the table. “Nice to meet you.”
The assistant froze, only his eyes moving to Blaine.
“Sam,” Blaine said.
“Samuel, actually. I go by Samuel.” He took my hand, offering a kind smile. “Pleasure, Miss Keller.”
“Welcome to Haven River Ranch, Samuel. You can call me Indya.
This is West.”
He stood behind me again, arms crossed and legs planted wide. His gaze was locked on the papers Blaine had shoved my direction.
Papers I would have to explain. Later.
“I’d arranged for a notary on Monday,” I told Blaine. “There was no reason for you to travel out here.”
“Well, I’m here. This won’t take long. Then you can go flit around
with your cowboy.”
West was my cowboy.
He’d always been my cowboy. Blaine might have seen West only once, but there was no doubt in my mind that he knew West was mine.
And had been long before Blaine had entered my life.
“Shall we?” I pulled the papers closer and began flipping through the contract.
It was the same version I’d already read. My attorneys had also been through it in great detail and had sent me their approval. But I quickly checked the high points to ensure everything was solid.
“May I borrow your pen, Samuel?” I asked.
“Of course.” He handed it over.
Maybe my hand should have been shaky. Maybe I should have had those second thoughts Blaine feared enough to fly to Montana today. But
I was steady and solid as I initialed every page and signed my name on the last.
Samuel needed my driver’s license, so I stood and retrieved it from my purse as Blaine signed the contracts himself.
One copy for him. Another for me.
Once they were notarized and finished, both he and Samuel packed up their briefcases.
“Thank you, Miss Keller.” Samuel offered a kind smile.
“Come back and stay with us sometime,” I said.
“I might just do that.”
Blaine scowled.
Samuel ignored it.
I liked Samuel already. I’d wager that within months, he’d find a better boss.
He left first, nodding to West as he passed.
Blaine stood, and for a moment, I thought he’d disappear without a word.
I should have known better. Blaine always had to have the last word. After the divorce, he’d told me that we’d lasted longer than he’d
expected.
“Was that so hard?” He smirked.
“Hard? No. Unnecessary? Yes. I would have sent these to you Monday.”
“You don’t close a seventy-five-million-dollar deal through FedEx, Indya.”
The number was intentionally dropped as a slap in the face. Not
mine.
West’s.
“Get out, Blaine.” The glare I sent him was lethal.
His smirk only widened as he sauntered out, slamming the door behind him. He’d fly back to Texas tonight, probably on the Keller Enterprises jet.
Would it even be Keller Enterprises by morning? Knowing Blaine, he had new signage ordered and at the ready.
The company, Dad’s company, was gone.
Something broke in my chest.
Not my heart.
My hope.
There was a reason Blaine and I had stayed married. Not by any effort on his part whatsoever. Not for love or affection. But because of my iron will to make it work with a man whom my father had adored.
Dad loved Blaine. So I’d kept Blaine.
“What was that?” West asked.
The lump in my throat was so big it was hard to speak. “I—I sold
him Dad’s company.”
It was real now. It was done.
This was how it had to end. I’d been preparing myself for months.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Tears flooded my eyes, and no matter how fast I blinked, I couldn’t chase them away. The contract on the table was too white. Too loud. So I stood and moved the hell away from those papers.
My head was swimming. My limbs were sluggish, and I swayed on a step.
“Whoa.” West caught my arm before I could fall. “Indy.”
“I’m okay. I just need a minute.” I forced air into my lungs and wiggled free, then walked to the door. As I stepped onto the porch, the hot summer air seemed to only make it worse.
My heart pounded so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else. My throat was on fire. My nose burned. And those fucking tears wouldn’t stop.
One fell down my cheek as I reached the first step.
This time when my knees buckled, I caught myself, grabbing the railing as I sat with a thud on the top stair.
It was gone. Keller Enterprises was gone.
Dad had spent his entire life building that business. He’d gifted it to
me.
And now it was gone.
A choked, hoarse sound escaped my throat. I swallowed hard and shifted to dig my phone from my shorts pocket. My hand was shaking as I pulled up Dad’s name.
This was the one thing in the world I didn’t want to tell him, but he deserved to know. He deserved to hear it from me.
He’d understand. Dad always understood. He’d tell me it was okay.
That I’d done the right thing. That I’d made the choice he would have
made too.
Except he wouldn’t have let it go this far. He would have made better choices. Fewer mistakes.
Dad should have been here to make these decisions, not me.
I hit his name, then held my breath as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“We’re sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number dialed and try again.”
Wait. What? I pulled the phone away, checking the screen. It was
Dad’s contact. It was his number.
I called it again.
“We’re sorry . . .”
“No.” My whole body flinched. “No, no, no.”
My fingers flew over the screen, and this time, the person I called answered.
“Hi. Good timing. I was just thinking about you.”
“Mom.” My voice was raw. “I just called Dad, and it said his
number was disconnected.”
The line went silent.
“Mom. Why is his phone disconnected?”
A hard body pressed against my side. West’s strong arm wrapped around my shoulders.
If I looked at him, I’d break. So I kept my eyes trained forward, my phone hard against my ear as I waited for my mother.
“My new assistant got me a new phone.” Her former assistant had retired, and Mom had recently hired a twentysomething woman to help around the house and with technology. “She switched providers so I’d have better service in the house. She asked me if I should cancel his line
and—”
“Get it back.”
“It’s been years, honey,” Mom whispered.
No. I needed that phone line. I needed that voice mail. Somehow, in all these years, I hadn’t filled up his inbox. Either because someone deleted them from time to time—maybe Mom’s old assistant, who’d also worked with Dad for a time—or there was a glitch or the universe knew
I needed Dad’s voice.
“Get it back.”
“Indya.”
“Get it back, Mom,” I yelled. “Please. You should have checked with me. That’s all I have left. I need it back.”
“I’m sorry.” Mom’s voice wobbled. “I’m so sorry.”
Tears streamed down my face as I let the phone drop. It clattered on the wooden step, slipping past the railing and landing with a thud on the ground.
I hauled myself to my feet, then managed to make it down the stairs without falling and walked across the lawn.
There were noises coming from the lodge. The scent of campfire smoke drifted in the air. There’d been enough rain this summer that we could still have a Saturday-night fire. What happened when it was too dry? Too dangerous?
I’d never been to Montana in August. Dad always preferred June, when it was lush and green. When the grass was covered in dew each morning and you’d need a sweatshirt to ward off the evening chill.
He’d loved Montana in June.
He’d loved Montana.
The tears continued to fall as I walked. Step after step, I followed the one path I hadn’t taken since I’d moved here.
Through the field behind the lodge and along a beaten path that wrapped around a grove of quaking aspen. Past the trees was an incline that took me up and over a small hill and into a quiet mountain-valley
meadow.
Mom and Dad’s camping spot.
It was arguably the most beautiful place on the ranch. The mountains framed the scene in the background. The trees that circled the area stood tall and proud, their tops waving in the breeze.
I stopped walking.
And collapsed to my knees.
West knelt behind me and wrapped me in his arms. “Let it go,
Indy.”
“It hurts.” I sobbed.
“I know, baby.” He held me tighter. “Let it out.”
So I did.
For the first time in my life, I let West see me cry.
