“I understand that.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked, no longer caring about politeness or the fact that he was even hotter than he’d been back in the day.
“To let you know if you decided to sell, I’d be interested.”
“All right,” she said in a clipped voice. “If we decide to sell, I’ll let you know.”
“I appreciate that.” He shifted his weight. The silence stretched, then he said, “I’m moving back to the Eagle Valley to be closer to the family. My dad had a pretty serious heart attack.”
Was he making small talk or playing the sympathy card? Either way she wasn’t biting.
“I’m certain you can find a suitable acreage to buy.”
“No doubt. This ranch is close to Dad’s place, but not too close, if you know what I mean.”
Dad’s place. One of those monstrosities overlooking the lake at the center of the valley. Allie lifted a shoulder. “Sorry. And not to be rude, but I was in the middle of something.”
His eyes strayed to the bottle and Allie felt her color rise, even though she told herself she owed him no explanation. “Then I won’t take up any more of your time.”
She saw him to the door, closed it behind him, waited until she heard his car engine start before she headed back to her whiskey. After putting the stopper in the top, she took the bottle to the kitchen and resolutely stowed it away on the shelf. Then she returned to the living room, lifted the glass from the puddle and sipped the small amount of liquid in the glass—not as a toast to the past, but to still her nerves.
She didn’t know what was going on here. How the Largents and the Hudsons were involved, but once again the Largents were after her ranch and she wasn’t going to put up with it. And to send the golden boy...
She tossed back the rest of the whiskey.
* * *
“THANK GOODNESS YOU’RE HOME.” His sister, Kate, spoke in a low voice as Jason came in the back door. “I need someone to distract Dad.”
Jason smiled even though he didn’t feel much like smiling. There was something about his conversation with Allie Brody that stayed with him—something beyond being told no, the ranch wasn’t for sale. “That’s what you’re here for.”
Kate blew out a breath. “My life has just been thoroughly evaluated—for the third or fourth time this month. Your turn now.”
“I already had my turn today.”
“That you, JD?” his father called.
Kate gave him a push toward the living room. “Go and get counseled.”
Jason went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. Paternal counseling, especially for the second time in one day, went down easier with alcohol. He popped the top, tilted the can at his sister with a wry smile and then headed to the living room. Behind him he heard the fridge door open again and another top popping.
“Hey, Dad.”
“You were gone awhile. Any luck with Ray?”
Jason shook his head and sat on the leather sofa across from his dad’s recliner. “He’ll keep looking, though.”
“What about the house around the corner that overlooks the lake?”
“I want something with more privacy.”
Max frowned deeply as he sat in his recliner. “Maybe right now, but as time goes on, people are going to get used to having you around. They won’t be gawking.”
“I know,” he said patiently. Once upon a time he and his dad triggered each other by merely walking into the room, but dealing with more than one megalomaniac coach had taught him a thing or two about thinking before reacting. “This is more about me wanting a place where I can have privacy because I like privacy.”
His old man frowned, seemingly confused by the concept. “Since when?”
Always. He’d always liked privacy. Jason shrugged rather than giving an answer and took a pull on his beer.
“It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”
Jason laughed at that. “Right.”
Max leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees. “What are your plans if you won’t go to work for Jimmy? What will you do to fill your time?”
His father was of the school that believed if a person wasn’t working, they were either going to become depressed or get into trouble. He had no concept of taking a few months off to let things fall into place. He’d never done that, so why should anyone else?
“I’m looking at options, Dad. Trust me—I’ll come up with something.”
“Here.”
“For now.”
Max narrowed his eyes and Jason met his father’s stare dead-on. He wasn’t going to lie. He’d stay here until Max was back on his feet and then he would start phase two of his life...although his dad was right about the fact that if Jason didn’t find something to do during Max’s convalescence, he was going to go stir-crazy.
“Wherever I land, it’ll be close enough to come home for long weekends and such.”
“I think you should talk to Jimmy.”
“I’m not a salesman, Dad.”
Max gave a snort. “It’s getting late. I need to get to bed.”
“Have you taken all your meds?”
Another sharp look. Max didn’t like it when people tried to control his life, which was why Kate looked so tired.
“Yes.” Max got up out of the chair, moving a bit slower than usual. Jason didn’t like seeing that. He waited until he heard the bathroom door close before he went back into the kitchen, where Kate was just finishing her beer.
“Pop is going to turn us into alcoholics.”
Jason smiled humorlessly as he took a seat across the table from his sister. “His own life is out of control, so he needs to control ours. Gives him a sense of security.”
Kate eyed him darkly as she set the can on the table in front of her. “Thank you, Dr. Freud.”
Jason shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Tell the truth, you probably haven’t done this much life analysis in a long time, have you?”
“Nope.” She raised an eyebrow. “But I imagine you have.”
“True.” Making the decision to quit football hadn’t been easy.
“No regrets?”
Jason shook his head. Eight good seasons were something to be proud of. “Other than having to find a job that doesn’t involve Uncle Jimmy.”
Kate regarded her hands for a moment before looking back up at him. “If you ever want to talk or anything, I’m here.”
“Talk about what?” Jason asked cautiously.
“You’re my brother. Football was your dream career since you were seven or eight. Your life. And now it’s done. There’s got to be some adjustments to be made.”
There were definite adjustments, such as not having a goal front and center on every waking day. “Maybe a few,” he admitted.
“I can’t help but think about Pat.”
Jason stared at his sister. “I’m not going to drive my car into a tree.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “What I’m getting at is that the transition from professional ball to regular life