“That’s the beauty of my idea. I got a couple of conditions before I agree to this sale.”
“Conditions?” She might’ve known. There were always conditions, and they often were unacceptable.
Scowling, he shook his head at her as if she were trying his patience. “Hear me out before you get your drawers in a knot. First condition is, I can keep my room in this house as long as I want it. I ain’t afraid of dyin’, but I am afraid of bein’ helpless. If I get to where I need a nurse to take care of me, I’d like to have somebody I trust here to keep an eye on things. Make sure I’m treated right, ya know?”
Hope blinked at the sudden vulnerability in George’s wrinkled face. Having been raised by servants, she knew exactly how it felt to be dependent on people who weren’t always kind. But she didn’t dare show any emotion he might interpret as pity. “Of course,” she said in a businesslike tone. “What are the other conditions?”
“There’s just one. If you ever decide to sell this place, I want your word you won’t sell it to some developer who’ll cut it up into five-acre lots. That’s what my idiot nephew’ll do if he ever gets his hands on the Double Circle. Kid never was worth the bullet it’d take to shoot him.”
“I could live with your conditions, but I still don’t know anything about running a ranch. From what I’ve seen, it involves a great deal of hard work.”
“That it does, but I can teach you what you need to know, and you can always hire whatever help you need. Shoot, my hand Scott pretty much runs this place on his own.”
“But doesn’t Jake want the Double Circle?”
George grinned. “Yup. Jake’s wanted this ranch for years. Made me some nice offers and he helps me out when I need somebody to check up on Scott.”
“Then why don’t you sell it to him?”
“’Cause then I’d have to leave, and where would I go? Some damn nursing home? I’d rather be dead.”
“Surely you could make other arrangements—”
“Not in Sunshine Gap, and this is my home. Besides, Jake’d want to take over running everything, and I’m not ready to give it all up just yet. It’s a good place. You want it or not?”
Oh, she did want it. The Double Circle was smaller than the Flying M but every bit as pretty. And she loved this old house. Redecorating it would be a pleasure. She’d do the kitchen in French provincial, the garden in English casual and completely redo the bathrooms. She’d have to study up on antique furniture and—
The thought of having her very own house that wasn’t on anybody’s tourist map… But, as Jake had so bluntly pointed out, her sense of style wouldn’t exactly be appreciated, much less accepted around Sunshine Gap.
“I don’t think I really belong here, George.”
“Hell, girl, didn’t you get a thing I told you about the settlement of the West? Anybody could belong here if they wanted to bad enough. That’s why so many different kinds of people came out here.”
“That was the old West.”
“Horsefeathers. Long as you’re honest, halfway decent and a good neighbor, you’ll belong just fine. Don’t listen to Jake. He’s the one who put that fool idea in your head, isn’t he?”
Hope nodded stiffly, feeling hurt all over again. But while she was still angry at Jake, she wasn’t vindictive enough to take away something he’d wanted—and undoubtedly worked for—for years. And there was a gleam in George’s eyes she didn’t entirely trust. He was up to something, all right, but he wasn’t going to tell her about it. Until he did, she didn’t intend to commit herself to anything.
“It’s a big decision, George,” she said. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“You do that,” he said, grinning again. “I want you to stay here while you’re thinkin’. Stay until you finish your book, anyway. What do you say?”
“I’d love to. May I use the room upstairs with the lovely view of the mountains?”
“You bet. By the way, do you cook?”
A week later Jake sat at his desk, studying his personal balance sheet with a critical eye. His cash flow would be awful tight if George Pierson accepted this new offer for the Double Circle, but Jake was getting so desperate for a place of his own, he didn’t give a rip. If he didn’t get away from the Flying M soon, he was bound to do or say something he might regret for years to come.
But it wouldn’t be without just cause.
Of course, being provoked by his big, complicated family was hardly anything new. His mother and Aunt Lucy were identical twins who had grown up in a village in Italy. His dad and Uncle Harry had met them while they were in Europe serving in the military.
After whirlwind courtships, the McBride brothers had married the twin sisters and brought them home to the Flying M. Between them, the two couples had produced seven children and raised them as siblings rather than cousins. As the oldest, Jake had been held responsible for keeping Zack, Dillon, Alexandra, Cal, Marsh and Grace out of trouble.
It hadn’t been easy. Since they’d all survived to adulthood, however, Jake figured he’d done a fine job of it. Not that it was doing him one bit of good now.
Though Hope hadn’t said a word about him in her goodbye note, Jake’s mother and Aunt Lucy were blaming him for Hope’s early departure. They’d loved having a famous author living in the guesthouse, and the idea that Hope preferred cranky old George Pierson’s company to the McBrides’ was, in their eyes, unthinkable. Every time the Mamas, as they were affectionately called, saw Jake, they glared at him, heaved sorrowful sighs and turned away, shoulders slumped, heads bowed as if in shame.
And they hadn’t cooked one blessed thing he liked since Hope had left.
It probably shouldn’t matter so much, but dammit, they’d always been proud of him before. It rankled that the two women he loved most would turn on him when he hadn’t done anything wrong. And all over some wacko woman from Hollywood.
His dad and Uncle Harry were driving him just as crazy, though for different reasons. They were supposed to be retired and leave the management of the Flying M to Jake. The arrangement had worked well while the four parents had been on an extended world tour for the past two years.
But now that they were home with nothing to divert their attention, neither Gage nor Harry McBride could resist the urge to “help” Jake tend to business. One or the other of them questioned every decision he made and griped over every innovation he’d instituted while they were gone. They were especially disgruntled to discover he’d put the ranch accounts onto a computer rather than using the old ledger system that “had been plenty good enough for three generations of McBrides.”
“If they’d just sit down and learn to use the computer, they could still see the books anytime they wanted,” Jake grumbled, knowing his dad and uncle weren’t going to touch that “dang machine” unless they absolutely had to. “And that’ll never happen as long as they’ve got me around to torture for information all the time.”
He loved his job. Loved the Flying M. Loved the Mamas and Papas. But he needed relief from the stress of living so close to them. Somebody was on his back all day, every day.
It wasn’t just the parents, either. Whenever he was in the ranch office, his brothers and sister felt entitled to ask him to do all kinds of things for them. It was time for all of them to grow up and handle their own problems.
Dammit, he needed a place where he could have some privacy. A place that was his and his alone to do with as he pleased. A place where he didn’t have to consult anyone or be responsible for anyone but himself. But he couldn’t be too far away in case of an emergency at the Flying