Chapter 43
Back in town, Cole hurried to the Sasquatch. He’d grab breakfast, then head out to Quinn’s spread. He had to get this done. It was too big to put off. His gut was still clenching with the enormity of it all.
He only hoped he wouldn’t careen, headlong, down into the blackness once he did what he needed to.
If he did? He still knew who he was staying stuck to, through all the mess. If she’d have him.
He pushed open the door, heard the tinkling bell, and looked around. Huh?
Members of Dawson’s Exhibition Committee filled the place. That meant most of the town leaders were there, men and women. He snorted. Along with all of the town gossips, too. There was barely any room left in the establishment.
He managed to find a table, settled, ordered his breakfast then started in on it as soon as it arrived, which it did quickly. Three eggs easy over, a heap of bacon and sausage. But his mind was on his task. He and Quinn were going to have a private heart to heart, alone, away from all the ranch hands, away from everyone. Only the two of them. He’d tell Quinn the news.
He winced. Despite being touched by that incredible scene at the home, he was not looking forward to it. The Quinn he knew was still a loose cannon.
And then? He was going to make plans for their departure from their home, and from Dawson. That still stung. But his mind was already creating the task list. Go through everything we don't need, throw it out, sell it. Call around for accommodations elsewhere.
And about the animals they loved so much…
“Everything good, Cowboy?” Yet another new waitress brought a refill of coffee as she ran by.
“Perfect.” He noticed it wasn’t Tabby, and wondered what was going on in that area. After that day, he’d carefully avoided the subject. Too painful, but she had a right to do whatever she decided. But he also noticed he needed more creamers. “If you could get me a few more of these…”
The door slammed open, banged against the wall. A loud voice cut through the air, and it wasn’t pretty. “What the hell were you doing spying on me and my boy?”
Cole’s head pivoted. Quinn Raary, in the doorway. Filling it. And not moving.
The air rushed out of Cole’s lungs. Hell. He’d been seen? Oh, shit. Big shit.
He rose, palms up, trying to placate the man, as all heads turned toward them. “I was there, but only for a minute. Wanted to talk to you about something.” His voice dropped. “You saw me?”
“I’ve got friends there. They told me you were spying on me. And not for a bloody minute. You were there a lot longer. You following me now? You bastard. This is the limit. You have no right to interfere with my son’s care!”
Everyone was staring. The group meeting had stopped.
They had to get out of here. “Yelling at me isn’t going to change anything. We need to talk, like men. I’ll follow you to your place. Then we’ll…”
Quinn’s gaze narrowed dangerously. “You have something to talk to me about? Then talk.” He stared at him defiantly. “Right now, Dawson. In front of everyone. Not trusting you at my place alone, not by a long shot. Talk now. If you’re man enough.”
Cole’s throat constricted, and sweat broke out on his upper lip. “This is business, Quinn. Not a good idea. I’ll…”
Quinn’s gaze bubbled with accusation. “Any Dawsons breathin’ are lying Dawsons.” He gazed at the crowd. “See, everyone? He’s got something to hide. That’s why he can’t talk to me in front of decent, honest people. This is the kind of man that stole property from me and mine, for well over a hundred years.” He spat the word out with vehemence. “Liar.” Hatred swam in his eyes. “I’m gonna prove it, Dawson. I was convinced to drop it earlier. But the lawsuit is back on!”
It was now or never. Cole moved away from the table, positioned himself in the center aisle, a few feet from Quinn.
Quinn’s face molded into a sickening show of disgust. “Looks like he’s changed his mind.” He pinned Cole with a blast of forcefulness. “What you got to say for yourself, Dawson?”
Cole swallowed, drew in a deep breath. “You’ve been shooting your mouth off for years, Raary, about the land the Dawsons swindled from you. Most of Dawson Ridges, you claimed, and I always thought you were blowing smoke. In fact, I was convinced. But…”
He paused, waited a beat to deliver the repulsive news, but the news that was true. And had to be spoken. He’d make sure it was. Dead straight.
“A matter has been brought to my attention. Been doing some family research, lately.” He paused a moment. Once he said the words, they were out in the world, and they were never going back in.
He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled it to silence in the diner. His words echoed throughout the space. “You’re right, one hundred percent. My many times great grandfather, Jedediah Dawson, did pledge the land that is now Dawson Ridges to your great grandfather, Hezekiah Raary. All of it, except for one tiny parcel.”
Quinn’s jaw dropped. Hard. For once, he was speechless.
The rest of the diner, too, mimicked the man. Shock rolled through the cafe.
Cole continued. “Just so we’re all clear, if I chose, I didn’t have to tell you, or do a damn thing about it, and it would have been within my rights. My legal rights.” He wiped at his brow, felt the sweat, slick. Damn. His hands were shaking.
“But that would be wrong. And furthermore, we Dawsons?” Saying his family name out loud woke pride in him, gave him the strength to go on. “We pay our debts.”
A flash of that long ago scenario flickered in his mind. One man helping another. Saving his life, at definite cost to his own.
There was no doubt about it. He was grateful. He stood here today, because of what the elder Raary had done.
“Seeing as your great grandpa Hezekiah saved the life of my grandfather, and ensured the life of all the rest of us Dawsons, what’s right is right, and must be paid. Should be. You own Dawson Ridges, free and clear. With my good will, and that of my kin. All of it, except for one tiny little sliver.”
Miraculously, Cole felt his heart opening for one fleeting second, with the rightness of what he’d done. Then it constricted again, quickly, with the pain. He gave the man a steely look, even as his gaze blurred suddenly with the unexpected moisture in his eyes. But he straightened. “I’ll be passing all of it on to you and yours—immediately.”
Quinn blinked. “Is this a trick?”
“Wish it was, Cowboy.” It was awful, yet it felt right. “Won’t lie. We weren’t looking for this. And yet…”
Feelings twisted through him. Leaving Dawson Ridges, Dawson itself. Never seeing these fine people again. A motley crew, for sure. But his crew.
But no. That was their private issue, and not worth trumpeting about. “But it came out, and I reckon I’ll be honoring Jedidiah’s bequeathment to your Grampa. Your predecessor was a hero. Damn straight, Quinn. A hero.” He let the words ring in the shock around him, enter into everyone’s consciousness. Truth was truth.
“We owe him, and by blood, you.” He reached into his pocket, noted his hand had stopped shaking. “Here’s my lawyer’s card. He has our instructions. Call him."
The diner was dead silent. Everyone had stopped moving. The cook, the waitress, even Mandrake stood with his mouth wide open.
Quinn, however, seemed to expand. He flicked the card out of Cole’s fingers as if it was on fire, shoved it into his pocket. “I’ll do better than that. I'm calling my lawyer right now. And let me tell you. Before the day is over, before business hours are done, you're going to have a list in hand of everything I expect. Be forewarned too, that if one item of what is currently part of Dawson Ridges gets lost, somehow,” he leered, “if you sell or barter or give away one item, one animal, one foot of property, I will sue. Anew. And this time? You’ll be paying me for bloody life.” He strode toward Cole, stopped in front of him. “Out of my way, Dawson. I want my breakfast.”
Suddenly, Cole had nothing else to do. With the wind out of his sails and all the jaws collectively dropping around him, he felt the energy shift, the pity drop around him. The surprise. The lessening in everyone’s eyes of the Dawsons.
At least, that’s what he felt. And he thought, by God, he saw it. It was a heavy blow to take, even if it was right. No use fighting it. He stepped out of the way.
“Now, sweet-cheeks.” Quinn’s voice boomed loud in the Sasquatch. “I’ll take the Hungry Man special. Got a windfall here I’m aiming to spend. Triple meat!”
Cole grabbed his hat. He had no taste for what was left of his breakfast. Head bowed low, he left the diner, saddled Storm, and rode home to the land he loved more than life itself, but that was no longer his.