“Well, don’t that just work to your advantage?” Tony asked when he was done chuckling.
The ranch hand in the ring with the horse turned their way and stared for a minute before getting back to what he was doing. When Tony laughed, it did tend to stop traffic, considering it was more of a coughing spasm than real laughter.
“Yeah. It does,” Colt replied. “Make sure you tell the hands not to give anything away — not that I expect her to speak much to them, if she speaks to them at all. I got the impression she thinks she is far above any of us rednecks out here in Montana.” He lowered his voice and intensified the drawl.
“Yeah, people who aren’t from around here tend to judge us pretty quickly. Let them make all the assumptions they want. You know that only makes them the ass of our jokes.”
“All right. I better head home. Jackson is stopping by later for a beer.” Colt didn’t bother sticking out his hand. Tony didn’t shake them — not ever.
Climbing down from the rail, Colt strolled from the barn with a whistle on his lips and plans in his head for what he was going to do to improve this property once it was in his hands. It was early June now, so the wheat crop would soon be growing high, and as the weather was cooperating so far, by late July or early August the fields would be ready to harvest. He hoped it was his land by then.
Without a care in the world, Colt walked to where he’d left his horse, climbed on, and made his way at full speed toward his beautiful spread and sprawling ranch house. This was going to be another very good year for him.
At least that’s what he thought…
Chapter Four
Crew! I don’t have time for this. I’m in way over my head, have no idea what I’m doing, and to top all of that off, I was attacked yesterday by a monster of a man!”
“What?”
Finally, she’d managed to say something that was getting her brother’s attention. She’d been on the phone with him for the past half hour, furious with her father, with having to be in Montana, and just plain annoyed with the way her life was going.
“At least that got your attention. This man who showed up slightly after I arrived here was rude, snarky, and had the nerve to call me a rich bitch. Then he trapped me against the house — well, sort of trapped me. He didn’t actually touch me…no, scratch that, he did press against me when I threatened him, but the point is that this guy, this Colt…” Brielle said the name like a swear word before continuing. “He’s one of my employees. How the hell do I deal with that?”
The steam died down as she finished speaking. She hadn’t exactly felt threatened, but that wasn’t the point. The point was… She didn’t really know the point. She just needed to vent, and Crew was a willing ear to vent to. Though she didn’t realize it, her father’s plan was working.
Even though she hadn’t forgiven her father, and had only spoken to him when she absolutely had to, she was uniting with her brother again, reaching out to him, and asking for advice.
“Um…sis. That doesn’t exactly sound like you were attacked.”
“Oh, what would you know? You don’t even care. I actually called you for advice, and all you’ve done is mock me.”
“That’s not true,” he said and a hush fell between them. “Look, Brielle. I know we’ve drifted apart. I know I haven’t been there for you, but I have to tell you, this year has…” He had to search for the right words before continuing. “It’s just been an eye-opener. At first I hated Dad. Hated what he was doing, hated that he was controlling us. But I realize now that he has given us a gift,” he said with another long sigh. “Don’t you dare tell the old man I said that, though!”
“Like I’m ever speaking to him again!”
“Brielle, you will get over the horror. I was feeling just as bad as you when I got to Catalina, but now I find myself taking pride in what I’m doing. Dad was right. We were getting pretty entitled. It’s felt good to work with my hands again, just like I used to when I was a teen.”
“Oh, what would you know? You’re in sunny California — on a resort on a freaking island. I’m in the backwoods of Montana. Two entirely different situations.”
“Aw, Montana will grow on you,” he assured her.
“What about the money? I told you about the ridiculously little bit I have.”
“I made my budget work. You can do it. Just no fancy clothes or salons.”
“You never did understand me, Crew Storm, or why I do what I do. The only nice clothes I have are now more than a year out of season — I sold off what I could. And I hate you,” she said, but without any heat.