Authors: Rebecca Joyce
Travis and Tucker sat at their kitchen table with Sheriff Braxton Connelly, Jeff and Caleb Hicks, Bud Anderson, Deputy Brandon Kincade and the McDaniel brothers, Orin, Davis, and Jacks. Everyone at the table was from Treasure Cove, but more than that, all but Bud Anderson were the last surviving members of the original founding families of the town, founded back in the early 1800s. Besides Kelly, they were all there. So basically, they knew everyone and all the dirt on everyone.
They all listened attentively as Travis explained what had happened, and Braxton and Jeff confirmed the episode from the motel room.
“Holy fuck, Trav. Who was it? Has she said yet?” Orin asked. Travis looked at his long-time friend, and shook his head no.
“Do we know when this happened?” Brandon asked, running his hands over his face. Brandon had known the McKenzie’s from birth, growing up next to the family ranch.
“Look, guys, all I know is what Kelly has said. From the moment the doc brought her out of the sedative, Emma began screaming ‘Daddy,’ which is understandable, because he was killed in the house fire the night we were with Emma at the pond.”
“That was also the night your dad was killed in the car accident, right?” Jeff asked, remembering that horrible night. That night had changed everything in the town. Families were still recovering from that aftermath, his included.
“Emma has another session with Kelly today. Hopefully we can get more information, but till Emma names the bastard, we don’t have much to go on. Plus there is the son of a bitch who is threatening her. He wants the will and deeds to the ranch, which makes no sense, because Glenn never owned the ranch. We don’t know who has the deeds to the ranch, the house, or the will. There is no public record of anything. Have any of you heard anything different?”
“According to town records, the ranch once belonged to the Town Trust, but that’s it. There is no record of who owns the ranch now. As for a will, I checked the county courthouse and with the local law officer, Anthony Jacobs. He said Glenn McKenzie never had a will. Neither did Isabella. Now, I did call Margaret,” Braxton informed them, looking at Jeff who immediately got up and turned away. He knew hearing his mother’s name was a sore subject for Jeff, and he didn’t blame him. “She informed me that Isabella passed away two years ago, leaving nothing to Emma but a handwritten note, which I had mailed to the sheriff’s office. Maybe when it arrives, we will find something out. Margaret said that Emma’s mom flipped out when Emma told her who the fathers of Tabitha were, and even on her deathbed, she kept muttering that Emma was going to end up just like the rest of them,” Braxton informed the brothers.
“Fucking bitch, she better not have written anything to upset Emma,” Tucker mouthed off.
“That’s why I had the letter mailed to the office. If it’s hurtful, Emma never need know her mother left her a letter. Look, boys, I love Emma like a sister, and I want to catch this bastard, both of them, but until Emma can start naming names, my hands are tied,” the sheriff told them.
“How’s Tate handling everything?” Bud asked.
“He never lets her out of his sight. He is driving Doc crazy, but the doc isn’t gonna say much, ’cause as long as he allows Tate to stay, the doc can do whatever tests he needs to do. So, for the time being, Tate is camped out at the clinic with Emma, and the doc gets to do what he wants with her, medically that is,” Travis said, smiling.
“When is she coming home?” Jeff asked.
“Doc said a couple more days. Kelly is really the only one besides Tate that she will allow near her, so if Doc needs a test run, he has to make sure Kelly is with him. It’s taking longer than he thought, but he is getting it done,” Tucker said, reaching for his phone as a text message arrived.
They all continued to talk as Tucker read the message. When a huge smile crossed his face, his brother asked, “What?”
“Doc is letting Emma come home…” he began, when another text came in. “Hang on a sec,” he said, reading the text. Tucker jumped to his feet and the chair flew back. “You’re shittin’ me!” he shouted. Looking at his brother, Travis watched as all color fled his brother’s face.
“What!” Travis shouted.
“Doc wants a paternity test. He wants to make sure Tabby is ours!”
“Oh, fuck,” Travis heard someone say as his fist connected with the kitchen wall.
In that moment, Travis and Tucker knew what had happened to Emma.
* * * *
Emma sighed as Tate lowered her onto his bed, and snuggled deep into his pillows. She was home. Finally, after three days and a slew of tests, she was back where she felt most safe. Tate had been her rock over the last three days, running interference for her when the doc or some other med tech wanted to run a test. It took Tate saying “enough” for the doc to release her, and she was very grateful.
Over the last couple of days, she had tried to come to the realization of what happened, but for the life of her, she still had a hell of a time wrapping her head around the whole thing. She held onto the time she had with the boys and thought of them often. She didn’t want to remember that horrible night at the pond, but when she slept at night, that nightmare would make itself known.
She smiled when Tabitha ran into the room and jumped onto the bed. “Hi, Momma!”
“Whoa there, hopalong, let’s let Momma rest for a bit before you jump all over her,” Travis said, picking his daughter up.
“Travis, it’s okay, really.” Emma smiled at her daughter.
“I know, but I want you to rest, okay? Tabby and I are gonna go get you some dinner, and then she can visit with you,” he said, walking out of the room with Tabitha in tow, giggling as he tickled her.
“He won’t even look at me,” Emma said, turning her head to look out the window as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Baby, give him some time. He is blaming himself for everything,” Tucker said, sitting down next to her.
“He didn’t do it!” Emma screamed as tears ran freely down her face.
Tucker grabbed her and held her tight as she lashed out all her anger at the whole damn situation. He felt as angry as her. He, too, wanted vengeance. God, if he could turn back time, he would and rip the heart out of that son of a bitch. Tucker felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Travis. He gently switched places with his brother, as he and Tate left them alone.
Travis just held Emma. He held her as if they were the only souls left in the universe. Gently, he rubbed her back, cooing to her, telling her he loved her. He didn’t know how long he held her like that, but when her breathing slowed, he knew she had fallen asleep. Lowering her back to the bed, he covered her and lay next to her, holding her. It didn’t take long before he, too, drifted off.
* * * *
A week had passed, and Emma was back up moving around as if nothing was wrong. She hid her emotions well, and he could tell she didn’t want to scare her daughter or upset the boys anymore than they already were. Emma seemed to see no other recourse. Though Kelly had told her on more than one occasion that it was not healthy, Emma was determined to maintain as if nothing ever happened.
Emma walked out of the house one afternoon, in search of Tucker, finding him filling the hay loft. “Hey, Tuck, can I talk with you a sec?” she shouted up to him.
“Sure, hang on,” he shouted back. Emma watched as he finished up with the last bale, and descended the ladder. Removing his gloves, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Hey, gorgeous, you sure do look purty in that dress. So, what’s up?”
“I want to learn to shoot. Will you teach me?” Emma asked with a straight face.
Tucker was prepared for many things, but that request threw him for a loop. Looking at the woman before him, he knew she was serious, but couldn’t understand why. Why, after all this time, did she now want to learn? He had tried several times when they were younger, but the thought of a gun had scared her to death.
He knew she should have learned a long time ago, he just couldn’t fathom the eagerness of now. Then, like a lightbulb turning on, he knew. “You planning on doin’ some huntin’, Emma?” Tucker watched as her lip curled up.
Looking him directly in the eyes, Emma replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, darling,” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go get the guns, and then we will talk about you shooting.”
* * * *
Travis and Tate pulled into the parking lot across the street from the sheriff’s office. Travis had gotten a text from Sheriff Connelly, stating the letter from Emma’s Aunt Margaret had arrived. Before Travis allowed Braxton to destroy it, he wanted to read it.
The bell above the door dinged, and they walked in. They were greeted by Samantha Butler, a young twenty-something brunette who had moved to Treasure Cove a little over a year ago. Nobody really knew much about her, but she was a hard worker, helped out in the community, and the sheriff vouched for her, so no one really said anything.
“Hi, Travis, Tate. The sheriff said you guys can go ahead on back,” Samantha said sweetly and returned to her paperwork.
Braxton Connelly looked up when Travis and Tate walked in, closing the door behind them. He watched as they both sat in the two empty chairs in front of his desk. Not wanting to beat around the bush, Braxton just handed over the unopened letter to Travis and watched as he ripped the letter open and began to read.
It didn’t take long before Travis was cursing and threatening to kill an already-dead woman, then the air crackled. Travis jumped to his feet and shouted, “Holy fuck!”
Tate ripped the letter from his brother’s hands and read. There were no emotions that played across his face like Travis’s, just a cool stare. When he was finished, Tate placed the letter on Braxton’s desk and stormed out, slamming doors as he went.
Braxton picked up the letter and read what it said for himself.
Emma,
Having you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Since the day you were born, my life was filled with love and happiness. Nothing you could ever do would change the love I feel for you, and I want to apologize right now for how I treated you the day you left. I will have to live with that for the rest of my life and the next. I want you to know, Emma, that there are things I have done in my life that I am ashamed of and things that I cannot change even if I wanted to. I have lived a hard life, and the decisions I made long ago have affected so many lives, and I am so sorry for what I am about to tell you.
When I was seventeen years old, I fell in love with two men. I adored them, and they loved me dearly, but circumstances beyond our control would never allow us to be together. Their family would never have allowed them to marry the daughter of an immigrant, so I hid my pregnancy as long as I could, only telling my sisters. Your aunts arranged my marriage to Glenn McKenzie. Though I didn’t love him, I still married him. Shortly after your birth, I was confronted by your biological father’s parents, who then gifted you, their only grandchild, with an enormous gift. Your grandparents loved you, and I made sure they saw you as often as possible, even if it was in secret.
My husband, your stepfather, Glenn McKenzie, was just a ranch hand when I married him. He jumped at the opportunity for wealth and power. He was a con artist. Glenn never believed in hard work, always wanting to take the easy way out. He already knew—how, I don’t know—that I was already pregnant and who the real fathers were. When he agreed to marry me, he thought he had found easy money. It wasn’t until after the death of your grandparents that he realized that all the land, the money and the power belonged to you.
You must understand that when I married Glenn McKenzie, I was desperate. Though he agreed to raise you as his own, he did so with ulterior motives. I quickly realized I had made a grave mistake when he tried mortgage the ranch shortly after your birth. It was then he found out that the house, the ranch, and the mineral rights were all set up for you, in a trust, to be handed over to you, one week after your eighteenth birthday. Shortly after, I took all the paperwork and hand delivered them to one of your two biological fathers. Your real father agreed to watch after the ranch if anything happened to me. I pray he has done so. He may hate me for what I’ve done, but he has watched out for you from the very beginning. He is a good man, and I trust him.
As for Glenn McKenzie, I hope he rots in hell. You see, when Glenn McKenzie had a few drinks down him, he loved to talk.
Secrets.
Treasure Cove was built on secrets. Some are known. Others are hidden so deep and buried that even the sewer rats shy away from them, but Glenn knew, and when he drank, he talked. So, here, my darling girl, a little treasure hunt just for you.
Glenn may not be your biological father and thank God for that, but look in the south field of our old property. Look for a Japanese maple. About ten paces to your left you will find a fallen rock near the pond. Buried beneath it, you will find a box. Dig it up…I left a secret for you.
Isabella Romanov McKenzie
Braxton Connelly couldn’t believe what he had just read. It was too enormous to wrap his head around. He didn’t know what the brothers were going through, but the implications in the letter were enough to disrupt the ranching community, if not the town hierarchy, if it was all true that is. There was only one person that he knew who could shed some light on this matter. Picking up his cell, he dialed the only person he knew who could put this mystery to rest.
Travis left the sheriff’s office in search of his brother, Tate. He soon found him at Macie’s Diner, sitting in a booth near the back. Travis sat down across from him.
“You okay?” he asked.
Tate looked at Travis. “Fuck no! What the hell, Trav? Emma has been through enough shit already. Are we seriously gonna dump all this crap on her?”
“I know. Braxton is calling Anne. If she knows anything, she will say so. Till then, I think it’s best we head over to Doc’s and let him run that paternity test. At least we can verify that one of us is Tabby’s father. I’ll call Tucker and fill him in.”
“Yeah, and tell him to keep his big mouth shut!” Tate said, getting up and throwing five bucks on the table as he headed over to the doc’s with Travis in tow.