Cowgirls Don't Cry(15)

                “Sort of.”

                “What’s that mean?”

                “You’re Ben’s heir, but the place is in hock to the bankers.”

                “What did Daddy do, Uncle Boots?”

                “He took out a loan, Cassie, to pay the medical bills. The note on the land is coming due soon.”

                She winced, shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples. “How much?”

                “A bunch.”

                “Define a bunch, Uncle Boots.” Money. This she understood.

                “More than what your daddy has in the bank. More than what I have in the bank. And unless you’ve made a fortune I don’t know about, more than what you have.”

                “What was he thinking?” The words burst from her mouth before she could stop them.

                “He was thinking about paying his bills.”

                The censure in Boots’s tone burned, but she deserved it. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But if Dad took out a loan, he must have had a plan. He didn’t believe in being in debt.” She tried to feel hopeful while waiting for that proverbial other shoe to drop.

                “Cattle.”

                “Cattle?”

                “Before he was diagnosed, he bought a herd of five hundred feeder calves cheap. Had them on grass all winter so they’re fat and almost ready for market. Give ’em another few weeks, and they’ll bring top price. Grass-fed beef is the big thing now, so those calves should make enough to pay off the balloon payment with plenty to cover the rest of his debts to the hospital and leave you a little start-up cash.”

                “Start-up cash? Did he really believe I’d come back here to stay? With him gone? Why would I do that?” She gulped and quickly added, “Not that I don’t love you, Uncle Boots.”

                “You need to come with me.” He heaved up out of his chair.

                He limped going down the steps, Buddy close on his heels, and she remembered Boots was even older than her father. He had to be pushing seventy. Man and dog ambled toward the barn and a few moments later, Cass followed. She caught up and as they entered the dim environs of the wooden structure side by side, Buddy darted ahead. Boots paused to flip a light switch, though it didn’t add much illumination to the space. Whickers greeted them, and a few horses stuck their heads over the stall doors to watch. She recognized her father’s favorite horse, Red. A big sorrel with a white blaze, the horse neighed and stretched his neck.

                “Your dad spoiled that dang pony.”

                Cass laughed and stepped over to the stall. Red nickered and stretched his nose toward her. She reached up, and his velvet lips nibbled her palm. “I’ll sneak you a carrot later.” She patted the horse’s neck before glancing back at Boots. “So? You wanted me to see Red?”

                He shook his head before tilting it toward the stall across the way. “Nope. I want you to look over here.” He pointed to a stall across the barn. “Ben was a horse trader and that’s what he did. Just for you.”

                * * *

                Chance knocked on the door, but no one answered. Lights illuminated the windows and Boots’s rusty old truck was parked nearby. He walked to the end of the porch. A glass of tea sweated on a metal table. Then he noticed the open door and lights glowing in the barn. He sauntered that way, rehearsing what to say. Whatever he said, his heart wasn’t really in what he had to do, even as it tripped a couple of beats at the thought of seeing Cassidy again.