“Of course. I could do that.”
“I know he was hoping to get the ranch for his younger brother, Dean.”
Lauren dredged her memory and came up with a picture of a young man who partied hard and spent the rest of the time riding rodeo. And trying to date her twin sister, Erin. “Dean is ranching now?”
“Not at the moment. He was injured in a rodeo accident a while back. Vic leased your father’s ranch with an eye to adding it to his holdings and making room for Dean.”
“Tell Vic to talk to me if he wants to make an offer. He’s waiting to see you next.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
Lauren thought back to the anger he’d revealed when she told him she had a buyer, then shook her head. “No. Better if it comes from a third party.”
“Okay. I’ll tell him to come up with some numbers.” Drake tapped his pen on the open file in front of him. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Not right now. Like I said, I wanted to check in.”
Drake leaned back in his chair, looking as if he had a few more things he wanted to discuss, then he shook his head and stood up. “Okay. You know how to get in touch with me if you have any further questions.”
She got up and Drake came around the desk to escort her to the door. But before he opened it, his eyes caught hers, his expression serious. “Again, I’m so sorry about your father. I wish you girls had had a chance to get some closure in your relationship before he died.”
“Jodie mentioned some letters that Dad wrote to each of us before he died. Maybe that will help.”
“He was a sad and lonely man,” Drake said.
Lauren forced back her initial response and the guilt that always nipped at her. “I know we should have come to visit more often,” she agreed. And that was all she was going to say. The burden of guilt shouldn’t lie so heavy on her shoulders. Her father could have initiated some contact, as well.
She thanked Drake again and walked through the door.
Vic still sat there, but as she came out, he stood, his hat in his hand, his eyes on her. The gesture seemed so courtly, and for some reason it touched her.
“I need to talk to you” was all he said, his words clipped.
Lauren did not want to deal with this right now.
“I’m going to presume it has to do with your agreement with my father,” she said, weariness tingeing her voice, dragging at her limbs. She felt as if she’d been fighting this exhaustion for the past year. The stress of losing her job and trying to start a new business, and now needing to fulfill the terms of her father’s will, had made every decision seem momentous. Impossible.
“Can we talk now? Can I buy you a coffee at the Grill and Chill?”
“Not really. I just want to get to the ranch.”
“Meeting at the ranch would work better. We could do this right away.”
This was certainly not the homecoming she had expected, but in spite of her fatigue she sensed he wouldn’t let go. “May as well get this over and done with,” she said.
“I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
Lauren nodded, then walked to the door, disconcerted when he pulled it open for her, standing aside to let her through.
“Thank you,” she murmured, thankful she had worn her heels to see Drake Neubauer.
Though she doubted they’d made an impression on the lawyer, as she glanced up at Vic she appreciated the advantage they gave her.
The grim set of Vic’s jaw and his snapping brown eyes below dark, slashing brows sent a shiver down her spine that told her he would be trouble.
Vic parked his truck beside Lauren’s car and gave himself a moment to catch his breath, center himself. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked out over the Rocking M. The house stood on a rise of land overlooking the corrals below. The corrals and pasture eased toward the Saddlebank River on one side and the rolling hills leading to the mountains on the other. So often he had driven this yard, imagining his brother living here
It was the promise he’d held out to Dean and himself that got him through the past ten months.
A way to assuage his own guilt over the fact that he had been too late to get Dean off that rank bronc at the rodeo. As a pickup man, it was Vic’s job to get the riders safely off the horse as soon as he saw they were in trouble.
But Vic had had other things on his mind that day. Other things that drew his attention.
It had only been a few seconds, the smallest moment when Vic made eye contact with Dean’s ex-girlfriend Tiffany sitting in the arena a few feet away. Smiling at her. Thinking about how they could be together again. She had told him that she’d broken up with Dean. She had called out to him just before Dean’s ride and blown him a kiss.
Then Vic had turned his head in time to catch the sight branded into his brain forever.
The bronc Dean was riding spinning away from where he and his horse were, ready. The horse making another turn, crushing Dean’s leg against the temporary panels set up in the arena. Dean’s leg getting caught in the crossbars as the horse pulled away.
Vic still heard his brother’s cries of agony, saw him writhing on the ground in the arena.
The girlfriend walked away from both of them a week later. Dean started walking four months later.
His brother still struggled with resentment and anger over what had happened.
And Vic wrestled with a guilt that gnawed at him each time he saw his brother grimace in pain. Each time he listened to Dean talk about how Tiffany had broken his heart.
Buying Keith McCauley’s ranch was supposed to fix all that.
And now?
Please, Lord, let that piece of paper be somewhere in the house. I need this place for Dean.
The prayer surged upward as he eased out of the truck, heading up the walk, the futility of it clawing at him. He and Jodie had discussed it only briefly, but she hadn’t found any evidence of this agreement.
Maybe she hadn’t searched hard enough, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to the house. Maybe his presence would coax it out of its hiding place.
Keith hadn’t left anything about the lease agreement at Drake’s and he hadn’t given anything to Vic, so the only other place it could be was here. In Keith’s office in the ranch house.
As he sent up another prayer, he knocked on the door.
He heard laughter from within, and he eased out a wry smile. His own house was a somber, sad place. His father’s death a few months ago had only added to the heavy atmosphere looming over the house since Dean came home from the hospital three months before that, disabled and bitter. There’d been no laughter in the Moore household for a long time.
No one came to the door, so he rang the doorbell. Cheerful chimes pealed through the house, then he heard footsteps coming.
He wasn’t surprised to see Jodie answer, her head tipped to one side, her dark hair caught back in a loose ponytail, her bangs skimming eyes so blue they looked unnatural.
They were a different blue than Lauren’s, which were more gray. Cooler.
He shook that thought off. Lauren was attractive, yes, but he had to keep a level head. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a good-looking woman.
“Hey, Vic. Lauren