“What do you want, Cord?”
“Cash and I tracked down that stud colt the old man wanted. You’re not going to believe where he is.”
“Dammit. Does he want me chasing a horse or stealing a ranch out from under a woman who just buried her father?”
“Whoa, dude. Back up there a minute. That almost sounded like you’ve developed a conscience.”
Chance rubbed his temple and gave up trying to talk and drive at the same time. He pulled off and realized he’d parked a block from the Four Corners. How the hell had that happened? He jammed the transmission into Park and leaned his head back against the headrest on the driver’s seat. “Okay, Cord, so tell me where the damn horse is.”
“Right here. The plot thickens, little brother. Ben Morgan bought that colt months before you headed north to track him down. He’s been under our noses all along.”
He sat up straighter. “The ranch and everything on it is collateral. The colt, too?”
“No clue, but Cash is pulling financials. I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, the old man wants to accelerate things. Can you call the balloon payment immediately?”
“Our father is a real SOB, Cord.”
His brother’s ringing laughter filled the cab. “So what else is new?” Cord broke the connection before Chance could retort anything.
He stared out the windshield. “So what’s that make us, big brother?”
Four
The screen door banged shut behind her. The room hadn’t changed one iota in her entire life. She stopped short as countless memories washed over her.
Don’t run in the house.
Don’t slam the door.
No, you can’t bring that baby skunk inside.
Boots sprawled in the worn wooden chair on the porch, Buddy at his feet. A small metal table separated his chair from its twin. Her father’s chair. How many evenings had she worked on her homework at the kitchen table, listening to the two men talk through the open window? She passed off an icy glass of sweet tea to Boots then grabbed a third chair, a refugee from some 1950s patio set, and settled into it.
“What are you not sayin’, Cassie?”
She’d put off this discussion for almost a week. So much for easing into the conversation. There was no way to soften her news, so she blurted it out. “I’m putting the ranch up for sale.” When Boots didn’t respond, she plunged ahead. “I don’t need the money. Not really. I want to set you up with a little place closer to town. A place where you and Buddy and a horse and some cows can live and be happy.”
She gulped down a breath and continued. “It’s for the best, you know. I have a life in Chicago. A job. Friends. I left the ranch and never intended to come back, and I wouldn’t know what to do with it and...and...” Her voice trailed off as she raised her gaze to meet his. “Say something, Uncle Boots. Don’t just sit there staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.”
“You can’t sell the ranch.”
“Yes, I can. It’s mine.” She snapped her mouth shut. Maybe it wasn’t hers. Maybe her father had left the place to Boots. “Isn’t it?”