Page 1 of Rocky Ride

Chapter One

Sunday, October 13th.

Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.

Travis went into his room the day Olivia Best died and he came out on the following Sunday dressed in his only suit ready to go to her funeral.

At breakfast, he didn’t say a word. Drank coffee and didn’t eat.

Me and Virge didn’t know what the hell to say to him. We never saw nobody with a heart broken so fuckin bad before.

Billy held up a hand cautioning us not to say anything to Travis and we didn’t.

I cleared the plates from the table and loaded the dishwasher while Virge sat and stared at his hands.

“Get ready to go to town, boys,” said Billy. “We don’t want to be late.”

Coyote Creek Funeral Home.

A huge crowd turned out for Olivia’s service. She had run the Inn for years with her mother and then alone after her mother died. Everyone in Coyote Creek knew the Best family and respected them.

Travis parked his truck, and I parked the Jeep in the spot next to him. Billy rode with Travis to town, but Dad wanted his truck in case he had to leave suddenly, and he probably would. It was best for me and Virge to drive separately so we wouldn’t end up stranded when Dad went off the rails and split.

Billy got out of the passenger seat of the truck, and me andVirge caught up to him and Travis and nobody said a word.

Me and Virge never had suits before, but we were wearing them for the funeral. Travis gave the word and Billy drove us to the men’s store in Shelby and bought us suits and dress shirts and ties.

Mine was dark blue and Virge picked black. He might have been trying for the mafia boss look, but I wasn’t sure. No way I could razz him about it in front of Travis. Our ranch house was in silent mode.

Dad was losing it more every day and there was nothing we could do but watch it happen. He stopped going to work and Billy took over. Billy was calling all the shots at the station.

Molly was worried and so were we.

No word from the bounty hunter mucking around in the swamp in Louisiana looking for Tammy—not yet. That situation was preying on Dad too. Overload coming down on him. No way to stop it.

Inside the funeral chapel, we sat near the back. That was the only spot where there were four seats together.

People from town went up to the front of the chapel and talked about Olivia, telling stories about her and her family and what a fantastic person she was.

All true and that made it all the worse for Travis.

Dad sat beside me with his head down and didn’t look up the whole time we were in the chapel.

Olivia was being cremated and her ashes were to be scattered in the Rocky Mountains. She had discussed this with Dad a long time ago when he first moved to Montana and buried his Uncle Carson, and he intended to keep his promise.

The service ended with a prayer and the reception was next. Billy didn’t think Travis could manage the reception and neither did me and Virge.

The reception was at the Inn and the assistant manager was taking care of it for Travis. Susan Westfall had taken over managing the Inn the day of Olivia’s accident, and Travis was pleased with how well she’d done.

Olivia and Travis were business partners and when Olivia died, her share of the Inn went to Dad, and now we owned the Inn—all of it. Travis wanted everything to stay the same way Olivia ran it, so the staff stayed on, and Susan kept the standards high like Olivia had always done.

We followed the crowd out to the parking lot behind the funeral home and lost track of Travis. “He’s probably gone to the truck for a smoke,” said Billy. “He’ll meet us at the Inn.”

I hoped Billy was right.

Coyote Creek Inn.

The tables in the dining room were pushed back against the walls, leaving a large space in the center for people to stand around and talk. At the side of the room closest to the kitchen the buffet table was set up, loaded with sandwiches, desserts and coffee.

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