Her Cowboy's Twin Blessings. Patricia Johns

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СКАЧАТЬ knocked on the door as a formality, then pushed it open as he always did and stepped inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimmer light of the kitchen. Mr. Vern stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his belly sticking out in front of him. He had a bristling white mustache that covered his lips so that you never could be sure what that mouth was doing unless he was laughing out loud or bellowing an order across a field.

      “Morning, Casey,” Mr. Vern said. “Good timing. This here is Ember.”

      Casey turned to make the introduction, and he was met with a tall, lithe blonde woman—bright blue eyes and a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. She was stunning—skin like cream and her lips shining with the lightest touch of gloss. He shook her hand and her grip was firm and confident.

      “Pleasure,” Casey said with a smile. “You a friend of the boss?”

      “Not exactly,” Mr. Vern cut in. “She’s considering putting an offer down on my ranch, and I need you to give her a tour of the place.”

      “An offer—” The words stuck in his throat. “Right. Not a problem.”

      This was his job, after all. He was ranch manager, and he’d be the one who knew the ins and outs of this place. It just came as a shock to hear he had competition already.

      “Her car is out front,” Mr. Vern added. “She hit that big pothole just before the turn.” Mr. Vern exchanged a look with Casey. No one who knew these roads made that mistake. That pothole formed every winter. “Looks like a bent axle to me. She’s going to be in town for a bit while she gets that fixed. The tow truck is on its way.”

      “Great.” Obviously, this wasn’t the time for Casey’s business with Mr. Vern, and already he could feel his opportunity slipping away. Of course, Mr. Vern would be cheery about all of this—the sale of this ranch was going to fund his retirement.

      “After you give her the tour, I’d like you to give her a ride back into Victory,” his boss said, then turned to the young woman. “The land is beautiful. I have a feeling you’re going to fall in love with the place.”

      Casey smiled tightly. “What was your name again?”

      “Ember,” she said. “Ember Reed.”

      “Wait—” Casey’s heart thudded to a stop and then hammered fast to catch up. “Reed... Not as in Reed Land Holdings?”

      Ember’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, actually. But I’m not acquiring land for my father’s business. This is a personal purchase.”

      “Right.” As if that even mattered. That wealthy family was the money behind the faceless corporate giant that had been gobbling up the land in the county for years. “Sir, could I have a word?”

      Mr. Vern’s smile faltered. “Sure. Ember, why don’t you go on outside and check out the view. Casey will be right with you.”

      Ember hitched a purse up onto her shoulder and headed out the side door. The screen slammed behind her, and Casey watched her look around for a moment before walking away from the door, affording him some privacy. For good measure, Casey swung the door shut.

      “Reed Land Holdings,” Casey said hollowly.

      “I need to sell, Casey. You know that.”

      “Yeah, but to them?” Casey clenched his teeth. “You’ve seen what they’ve been doing to this county! We used to be family ranches, shoulder to shoulder, until that soulless giant came through and started buying us out. They own sixty percent of the ranch land out here, and you want to turn that into sixty-five?”

      “Linda’s care isn’t cheap,” Mr. Vern replied. “And the place she’s in has been going downhill. I need to get her into a better care home.”

      Mr. Vern’s wife, Linda, was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s, and Casey could sympathize with his boss’s sense of urgency here.

      “Sir, I was coming up here to make you an offer, myself,” Casey said, pulling the folded papers from his pocket. “I’ve talked to the credit union about a mortgage, and with the money I’ve saved and the bit that my dad gave me from the sale of his land, I’ve got enough to make an offer.”

      “Oh?” Mr. Vern reached for the papers and scanned them. He nodded twice, then shot Casey an apologetic look. “It’s a fair offer, Casey. And I appreciate it. If all things were equal, I’d rather sell to you, but Miss Reed says that if she likes what she sees, she can offer twenty percent more than this.”

      Casey accepted his papers back, emotion closing off his throat.

      “I know how this seems,” Mr. Vern went on. “I know what your family lost, and I’m not some heartless cad. You know that. But with Linda’s cost of care going up, I need every penny I can get. This is my chance to retire, spend what time I can with my wife and set things up for my kids to inherit a little something when my time comes. I’m not young anymore. You might as well know that I’m in a lot of debt. Reed Land Holdings did a number on my profits, too. They’ve hurt everyone.”

      “But you’re selling to them—”

      “I’m not selling to them,” Mr. Vern retorted. “I’m willing to sell to that young lady out there. Like she said, this a personal purchase for her. Nothing to do with her father at all.”

      “Funded by him, no doubt,” Casey shot back.

      “Who am I to judge where someone gets their money?” Mr. Vern shook his head. “Everyone gets it from somewhere, and I don’t care if I’m paid by a bank or a checking account. I’ve got my own worries, Casey. You have to appreciate that. She’s not adding this to her father’s stash of land—this is for her.”

      “Her—” Casey hooked a thumb toward the closed door. “That little blonde with the city heels on her boots and the clothes that look like money. She’s going to ranch this land herself?”

      Mr. Vern shrugged weakly. “Whatever she chooses to do with it is her concern. I’ve got Linda to worry about, Casey. I’m sorry.”

      And Casey couldn’t argue that point. Mr. Vern loved his wife, and he’d do what he had to in order to get her the care she needed. Casey heaved a sigh.

      “I was going to show her around myself, but my old knee is really sore this morning. I need you to show her around,” Mr. Vern went on quietly. “I know it’s a lot to ask right now, but I also know the kind of man you are. I wouldn’t trust this to anyone else, Casey. Besides, she mentioned needing a manager around here. I could make it a stipulation of the sale that you stay employed.”

      Mr. Vern was trying to help—Casey could see that much—but he didn’t have any intention of working for a Reed. Ever.

      “I’ll do my job, sir,” he replied tightly. “You can count on me for that.”

      He headed for the door. Fifteen years was a long time to work this land, circling those fields and cattle like his own personal Jericho walls. Fifteen years was a long time to pray for God to set things right for his family once again.

      It looked like he’d be praying for a little while longer.

      * * *

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