Leaning back, Cord propped his booted feet on the desk. “Tell me about her.”
“What’s to tell?”
“Well, there must be something since she has you tied up in knots.”
“She’s sweet and funny and doesn’t want to be a cowgirl.”
“You forgot sexy, Chance.”
“Yeah. She’s that, too.”
“I finally figured out how I know her.”
Chance rocked forward, his eyes narrowed into a glare. “You know her?”
“Whoa, bro. Not in the biblical sense. Unlike you.” Cord waggled his brows and laughed as Chance snarled. “Down, boy. That just confirms my suspicions. She was named the championship cowgirl at the Denver Stock Show the last year we competed. She looked mighty fine in tight jeans but way too young for me.”
Closing his eyes, Chance leaned his head back and tried to relax. “When you called me in Chicago, I was trying to pick her up. I didn’t know who she was then, Cord, not until I got home. She just wants to sell the place, pay off her father’s debts and get on with her life.” In Chicago. Without him.
“Damn, bubba. You have it even worse than I thought.”
“Shut up.”
“What are you going to do? If she finds out the old man is behind her troubles, she’ll hate you.”
“Is it too much to hope she doesn’t find out? At least until I get her out of my system.”
Cord rolled his eyes. “Get her out of your system? Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen. You don’t have a clue, Chance. She rode you hard, put you up wet and now she’s got her spurs dug deep. If the circumstances were different, I might actually enjoy watching your fall from grace.”
Chance raked his fingers through his hair again. “Our father is a real sonofabitch.”
“Yeah. You got that right.”
* * *
Cass stared at the pile of bills in front of her. She puffed out a breath and the straggle of hair hanging in her eyes danced. Picking up the checkbook, she sighed. No matter how many times she ran the numbers, there was way more owed than what was in the bank—even if she drained her savings account. She had to get those cattle sold, and she had to do it soon.
She called everyone on her father’s list of cattle haulers. The answer remained the same.
“You’re from the Crazy M? Sorry, we’re booked solid.”
“No, we don’t have even one truck to spare.”
“Sorry.”
Everyone was sorry. Or not. But not one cattle hauler would accept a contract from her. She placed another call to the independent hauler her dad had used for years.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do a thing for you. It’s a real shame, too. I thought the world of your dad.”
“I can’t believe that every trucking line in three states is busy hauling cattle.”