“Not in recent years. But before…” She shot Cord a look. “Let’s just say you boys come by your fighting nature naturally.”
“I’d heard rumors about Dad bein’ like that…but I never put much stock in ’em.”
“Why?”
Cord’s look said, Duh. Because he’s old.
“I hope he’s just drowning his sorrows and not getting his pretty face messed up by some kid twenty years younger than him.”
“Ma. Are you okay? Because you never say sh—stuff like that about Dad.”
“Yes, I do. You boys just don’t hear it.” Where did these sons of hers think their good looks came from?
“When was the last time Dad got into a fight?”
She closed her eyes briefly, trying to remember. “Six years ago? A guy who was bitter about some cattle deal called him out on the cheating way the McKays did business. Two things your dad won’t stand for. Someone tearing down the McKays or some guy coming on to me. Anyway, this guy wouldn’t pipe down.”
“Dad took a swing at him?”
“Eyes on the road, son. Yes, your dad went after him. And that ended it.”
They drove through the Ziggy’s parking lot first. No sign of Carson’s truck.
“You don’t think he could’ve left his truck somewhere and rode to the bar with someone else?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t hide it if he’s out looking for trouble. He’s probably at the Rusty Spur.”
Cord gave her an odd look. “You’ve been there?”
If he only knew. “You do realize your father and I had a life before we had children?”
“Well, yeah, but I don’t see you and dad tearing it up, getting wild and shit.”
“Because we’re old?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
He sighed. “I know where the Rusty Spur is.”
They found Carson’s truck. Carolyn made Cord stay in his vehicle while she went inside.
Carson had taken a seat at the end of the bar. A full shot glass sat beside a bottle of Coors.
The bartender caught her eye. “What’ll it be?”
“A whiskey Coke—hold the whiskey.”
“Coming right up.”
Carson picked up the cigarette smoldering in the ashtray and took a drag. “You worried you’d find me fightin’?”
“That’s been the case in the past. So I thought I’d see if you needed someone to have your back since your brothers aren’t out with you.”
“Except Casper was. Long enough to take a couple of shots at me. Then I took a couple of shots at him. More than a couple.” He faced her.
Carolyn winced, seeing the fat lip and the beginnings of a shiner around his right eye. “I’m assuming Casper looks worse than you?”
“You’re goddamned right he does. I hope the ass**le is pissing blood.” His feral grin sent a shudder through her.
She’d seen Carson fight, so she knew what kind of physical damage he was capable of inflicting. But the lingering anger rolling off him was new; usually he was much calmer after a fight. She laid her hand on his cheek. “Tell me what’s going on, McKay.”
He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch—another unusual reaction from him. “We ain’t even buried Dad yet and Casper is already talkin’ about selling the ranch. That was the first f**kin’ thing the ass**le said to me after he told me about Dad bein’ gone. The first f**kin’ thing.”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
“Casper is a big talker. But this time he actually followed through. He contacted a lawyer about dividing up the ranch and the assets.”
“Can he force you, Cal and Charlie to sell?”
“He thinks he can. But the whole reason he’s doin’ it is because he knows we’ll do anything to stop that from happening. He thinks he can force us into borrowing against what we own to buy him out.” He picked up the shot and drained it. “We ain’t got that kind of cash. We’re land rich and cash poor. All of our profits go toward payin’ ourselves and payin’ off the yearly operating loan. With the way the Ag business is right now, family farms and ranches goin’ under, there’s no way any bank would risk it.”
“So what happens now?”
“If I had the money I’d buy him out and not give a shit if I ever see him again. But that ain’t an option. So we’re stuck with him.”
“Sweetheart. Why didn’t you talk to me about this?”
“Because I’ve been too pissed off. The kids don’t need to see me this way either.”
Her heart ached for him. Because of Casper’s machinations, Carson couldn’t even grieve his father. Rather than ask more questions, she sat next to him and sipped her soda.
Carson gestured to the bartender for another beer.
Carolyn was about to head outside to tell Cord to go home, when someone behind them said, “If it ain’t another drunken McKay.”
When Carolyn started to turn around, Carson put his hand on her forearm, stilling the movement.
“You drowning your sorrows because Daddy died?”
He ground out his cigarette.
“Bet that puts the future of the McKay Ranch in question.”
Carson slowly turned around on his barstool. “First of all, Timmons, f**k off. You don’t know nothin’. And I ain’t that drunk, so tread lightly.”
She couldn’t help but spin to see who was stupid enough to taunt Carson.
The guy was big. Easily six foot four, but skinny as a telephone pole. Over the years she’d become familiar with most of the families in the area, but she’d never seen this man.
“I’d like to tread all over your goddamned spine. I owe you payback,” he sneered.
“For what?”
Timmons shuffled closer. “Don’t play dumb. You know what for.”
“It’s been almost twenty years and you nursing a grudge ain’t my problem.”
“Nursing a grudge over what?” popped out of Carolyn’s mouth before she stopped it.
“None of your business, bitch. Turn the f**k around and shut up.”
Carson’s boots were on the floor and he was in the guy’s face. “Speak to my wife like that again and I will shut that fat mouth of yours.”
“You always did bandy around like the c**k of the walk.” The guy loomed over Carson. “Too bad it don’t hold water no more. You don’t—”