Watchin’ me let you feel him up.” Trevor took another drink of his beer.
“I’m not lyin’ when I say I don’t care. Let ’em think what they want.”
“But, Chass, baby—”
35
Rough, Raw, and Ready
“God, Trevor, what is wrong with you? They’ll think what they want anyway, especially if we start denying it, claiming it was all a joke. Screw ’em. We might as well have fun with it.” Chassie upended Trevor’s beer. “What say you, Edgard?”
“I say I think it’s time to hit the road.”
“Good idea.” Trevor removed Chassie from his lap and stood.
“You guys are no fun, I swear.” Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe the three of us should hold hands on the way to the truck.”
“Definitely time to go.” Trevor dragged her out of the bar.
36
Lorelei James
Chapter Four
A few days later, the three amigos, as Chassie secretly called them, stood outside, drinking mugs of coffee. The morning started out typically chilly for February but Chassie knew the forecast for afternoon predicted a balmy fifty degrees.
Edgard hung back while Trevor and Chassie discussed the day’s schedule. Checking cattle was their priority, twice every day, rain, snow, sleet, or heat. Chassie took the early morning shift while Trevor tended the herd in the evening. Rarely did they do the check together; it was a waste of manpower in their small operation.
Before he retreated to the barn, Trevor discouraged Edgard from helping with chores again—a reaction Chassie didn’t understand. Every damn day there was more work to be done around the ranch than time to do it. The fact Edgard had volunteered filled Chassie with relief. The fact Trevor discounted it filled Chassie with resentment.
She frowned as she backed the truck underneath the feed hopper. Something was up with Trevor. But whenever she asked him what was wrong, he wouldn’t talk. Rationally, she knew most men were like that, especially cowboys, keeping concerns to themselves.
But she’d believed Trevor was different. No, he had been different, which was why his about-face bugged her so much. Her husband was keeping secrets and she had a pretty decent idea what about.
Money.
The end of last summer they’d crunched numbers and figured out pretty quickly in order to stay competitive in the cattle market, they’d have to increase the size of their herd. Which they did. But it left them at absolute capacity for grazing areas. Land leases from the state or individual ranchers were few and far between. Bottom line: they needed more land.
37
Rough, Raw, and Ready
As luck would have it, their neighbor to the south, Gus Dutton, was kicking around the idea of selling his acreage. Gus gave them a heads-up—it was an unwritten rancher’s creed to offer neighbors with bordering ranches a shot at purchasing the land before offering it to strangers. Not only had Gus approved of Chassie and Trevor’s improvements to the West homeplace, he understood the struggle of trying to get ahead when developers and “hobby” ranchers were swallowing up land all around you.
So, giddy at their apparent good fortune, Trevor and Chassie had scheduled an appointment with the family banker to discuss their options. But the banker’s news wasn’t good. Although Chassie owned the West ranch land outright, she had no credit history. Same went for Trevor because he’d spent years living hand-to-mouth on the rodeo circuit.
The banker did present an option. Because they were otherwise debt free, if they could come up with ten percent of the purchase price as a cash down payment, the bank would be willing to lend them the remainder.
Not the answer they’d hoped for, but one which showed the banker’s faith in their ability to procure the funds. A totally misplaced faith since the couple was strapped for cash and living on next to nothing as it was.
If they didn’t assure Gus Dutton they could meet his price, Gus would offer the parcel to the other neighbors whose land bordered his on his south end—the McKays.
Her cousins already owned most of four Wyoming counties. For the first time in her life she understood her father’s resentment toward the ranching family. If the McKays got their hands on Dutton’s land it’d feel like encroachment, whereas if she and Trevor bought Dutton’s land, it would feel like progress, despite either way they ended up with the McKays as neighbors.
Neither she nor Trevor owned anything worth anything. No antiques, or jewelry or heirlooms. Their pickups were running on baling twine and prayers. The farm equipment was ancient. They could sell off a couple bulls, a couple horses and it still wouldn’t put a dent in the kind of cash they needed to come up with.