If it was a family emergency, Dad would’ve known before Grams. My brothers and I didn’t get together often, but we’d call Dad before Grams. She had been a steady part of our lives, but unless it was a milestone like high school or college graduation, she only bothered when it came to work. Her motto was “live and let live, unless you’re talking about King Oil.”

I rose from my desk and turned, my gaze roving over the wall of windows at my back. Through the tint of the glass, the blue Montana sky taunted me. It was the middle of spring. This used to be my favorite time of the year.

Calving would be over. I’d work cattle with my three brothers, and there’d be mud pits all over our land that four boys could get into way too much trouble in. Those days were over. Sometimes I returned to King’s Creek to help my youngest brother, Dawson, work the cattle, but it was never often enough. The best I could do was take my daily runs outside instead of on the treadmill, listening and reading some of the many messages that bombarded my various inboxes.

I tore my gaze from the beautiful weather that would be perfect to ride horse in, straightened my tie, snapped my suit coat to discourage any wrinkles from sticking around, and walked out the door.

Dad’s assistant, Phillip, wasn’t at his desk. He was the only help we were allowed in the inner office. Phillip was good, but we could use three more Phillips. I bypassed his desk, planted front and center of the elevator. He didn’t miss who came and went, and more importantly, he could stop them from intruding on me and Dad. The other office in the corner was the one Grams used. I wouldn’t be surprised if she sometimes sat in there because she had nothing else to do. This company was her life.

Grams was pacing the length of Dad’s office by the time I entered and shut the door behind me. Another man in a gray pinstripe suit sat across from Dad.

Our family lawyer, Ellis. What was so critical that he’d driven from King’s Creek to Billings to tell us in person?

“Hi, Aiden.” The creases in his face were deeper than the last time I’d seen him. Age or stress? Both?

“Have a seat,” Dad said. His expression was serious but he gave no other indication that he knew what this meeting was about. I sat in the chair next to Ellis. Grams continued to pace behind us.

Dad reclined in his seat and tented his fingers. “Go ahead and tell Aiden and me what this is all about.”