Chapter 45

Cole sat in the kitchen alone, toying with the remnants of the salad Dax had left, wrapped in the fridge for him. Ma was in the far bedroom down the hallway, and he could hear the dulcet tones of her voice. Exclaiming, then giggling. Her whole damn world was changing, but she was fine. As long as she had her man beside her.

Meanwhile, he couldn’t seem to get over what this was costing them. Okay, him. Him, to be sure. Even Tabby had taken it in stride and she had nothing.

But this was big. All his energy, all his work had gone into creating this, here.

He was facing the extinction of his whole way of life. Dawson Ridges, gone. The family collective, gone. The pride and their status in the community, being looked up as good, solid people…gone.

Yet, it seemed lots of folk in their area had their troubles right now. Surprisingly, even his nemesis.

His mind went again to the matter this morning. That eye-opening scene with Quinn and his son. The heartbreak those two—really the whole family, including the wife—were enduring. The home closing, their boy being sent to who knew where, where they might almost never see him.

He remembered, with a jolt of very real pain, Quinn’s face. His expressions, the tender way he treated his boy. After the child lost energy, then slept, the fragility that seemed to surround the big man. And he wondered.

Would the child survive the move?

Worse, would the parents?

Suddenly, it was like a veil lifted off his mind. Their situation, his, didn’t seem so bad. 

Even though Quinn would very shortly own the whole, extensive spread of Dawson Ridges, which was magnificent by anyone’s standards, it couldn’t make up for any of that. His mind boiled, putting himself in Quinn’s shoes.

Beside that scenario? Dawson Ridges was just..

…stuff.

That thought, arising so innocently in him, shocked him, but good.

What was that he’d just said? It was just…stuff? Dawson Ridges? This beautiful land he loved so much? The ranch?

No, that couldn’t be right. He passed a sweaty hand over his face, roughly, as if to swat away the unseemly thought. Dawson Ridges wasn’t just stuff. It was…

But the little voice in him pressed. Think more on that, it urged. He didn’t know where it came from but when it did, he obeyed.

Maybe that damn chasm was following him around, he thought quickly.

But here was this man that had everything materially, yet, the most important thing was being kept from him. If it was true that every person was the hero of their own story, then Quinn Raary, as hero—the very thought seemed laughable—was suffering. Hugely.

With no end in sight. It was only going to get worse.

Not only was his only son, their miracle child, desperately ill and in pain most of the time, but even the little bit of time they'd been granted to love each other, be with each other and give to each other, was being stripped from them. From the man, and his boy.

Abruptly, clarity descended on him.

Dawson Ridges, much as they all loved it, and much as it stirred his blood and was part of his very fiber—was that.

Just stuff.

What was more important, and what he still had…

What Cole Dawson, rancher, cowboy, volunteer firefighter and solider, still had, was the love of his very large family. His dad was recovering. His mom was a rock star. His sisters were vibrant, interesting as hell women, and his brothers, well they were rocks in his life, too. Even stupid Lucas, with all the folderol he liked to cause.

They. Were. Fine.

As was he.

And—and this was a big and—he’d been lucky enough to have been offered the love of the best woman he’d ever met. One who was also a rock-star, a savant. A goddess, an in it for the long-haul type of woman, yet crazy playful. Not one iota concerned as to what she might get out of him. She was strong, hard-working, resourceful. And hot to boot.

One in a million. Yeah. That’s what he damn well had.

Another thought hit him. If he didn’t take this whole thing as a death knell, somehow about his stupid inadequacies, there was a glaring truth, right in front of him. One he’d been blind to, up until this very moment.

They may be leaving Dawson, but as Ma said, it did not have to be with their tail between their legs. In shame.

They’d taken care of many a family, many an individual over the years. Openly, and privately. Why not continue their ethics, in what looked to be bad times? Bad times didn’t change ethics, did they?

They didn’t.

The image of that run-down home for sick kids, solid-looking on the outside yet falling apart in so many ways, thunked hard into his brain. The Foundation.

The kids there, and their families, all had their trials. Worse ones than his, he warranted, with a sudden lightning bolt perception, born of clarifying grace.

Wasn’t there still some good they could do for this community that they loved? The one they’d served these many years, that had served them so well, too? Before they departed?

But what could he do, he thought quickly? He was nobody now. Just a man without a home.

The voice came again, pressed harder.

Almost. You’re almost a man without a home. But you got a pretty fine one, this moment. Plus. When did a man need a house, all bought and paid for, to do a neighbor a good deed?

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, out loud, to no one in particular.

The little voice, or his higher self? He’d never know. But an idea sparked in his mind, grew. And every second it grew in his mind, it made more and more sense.

He wasn’t nobody. The Dawson legacy wasn’t nothing. And the community, especially a little boy, still needed him.

The thoughts started flying. 

Before Jesse came to work on the ranch, he’d been a construction supervisor, working on some of the biggest projects out west. It was partly what had made him such a valuable foreman. He knew something about everything. He still kept in touch with his network.

Dare, Tabby’s brother, too, was working on getting his certifications in numerous trades. The man was no slouch, he remembered that from Afghanistan. The man had heart. If he could convince him to come…

Either way. All of his men had real talents, skills they proved day by day, hour by hour, on this fine spread known far and wide as Dawson Ridges. And he’d been smart enough to snag them, each and every one, to be part of this glorious ranch.

Right?

Ha! He almost laughed out loud. He wasn’t nobody, not quite yet. The Dawson legacy wasn’t nothing. And this community—especially a little boy who depended every damn day on his Papa—still needed him.

And so did his grumpy, pile o’ shit, tough as nails, piece o’ work father.

Resolve built in him. He grabbed his cell, called Jesse.

“Boss?”

“I’ve got a project for us. Immediate, and fast. Like one of the surprise, lightning quick deals we used to pull off in the day. You up for one?”

Interest sparked in Jesse’s voice. “Hooyah. It’s been too long.”

“Good. You know the Foundation, right? You heard it’s closing for lack of repair?”

Jesse didn’t miss a trick. “Where Quinn’s boy is.”

“Damn straight. I’m thinking, we round up the men—we’ve got a few days before we’re kicked out—and we get our asses out there tomorrow, scope it out. Then we start in earnest on those repairs. Just get ‘er done. Get the place all fixed up, slam this nonsense down of it closing. We’ve built a place or two in our time, yes?”

The positive vibe swelled in Jesse’s voice. “We sure have, Boss. But is there time?”

Cole knew he was referring to the imminent move. Jesse hadn’t received any details yet. But Cole had.

“Quinn’s sending over men tomorrow morning to start the take-over, bright and early. Yeah, he’s not letting any grass grow under his feet on this one, and I’ve got the full list from his lawyer as to what he expects. Was special delivered tonight. But that’s fine and only right. It’s his, fair and square, and he should jump on it.” He took a deep breath.

“But we Dawson men have things to jump on, too. And if we’re going to be leaving this area of our own accord, let’s do so as men, with our heads held high. Before we go, let’s do what men and good women do. Let’s make a difference in a little boy’s life, and in that of his father’s.” His voice grew hoarse, as emotion hit him. “Help the other kids, and their parents, too.” He swallowed hard. “They all got a right.” 

Jesse rarely said much, and this time was no exception. But Cole could tell his pleasure from the way he gave his response. The man was quiet, but deep. Undeniably potent, if you knew how to see. “It’s done, Boss.” Cole heard the snap of fingers over the line.

“Call the hands, then. Gather them in Stable One. I’ll be there in thirty, got a few things to attend to first.” His mind was whirring. He was going to see if others could come, round out their party, on incredibly short notice.

But their time frame was tight. And the more they could get done before officials were called and red tape interfered, the better. The element of surprise was their friend.

“And while they’re gathering, make the calls you need to make too, Jesse, so we can show up as a presence, and get to work right away, without any nonsense in the way. We’ll need those repair plans, the ones that are on hold right now. I expect you know who to call, with all your connections, and got some favors to call in?”

When Jesse grunted assent, his heart eased.

“Good. We’ll do what we need to, with no impediments, and ask forgiveness later. Right? Let’s roll.”