One Last Chance

by Sherryl Woods

  “If that’s your attitude, maybe I am,” Grady snapped. “Maybe somebody else would approach this with a more positive attitude, maybe be a little more aggressive.”

  “Anybody legitimate would tell you what I’m telling you—forget about this.”

  “What about the mortgage? Surely there’s paperwork about any attempt to buy up the Hanson note. The president of the bank didn’t just make that up. He either had a letter or a face-to-face meeting.”

  “He claims the latter, and he claims it was with you,” Jarrod said.

  “Since I’ve never set foot in that bank, he’s lying, then. Who’s paying him to lie?”

  “Have you considered asking him that yourself? It’ll be a whole lot harder for him to pull off the lie if you’re looking him in the eye.”

  Grady sighed. “You have a point. I’ll get on that first thing in the morning. Meantime, I want you to look into every person who owns land adjacent to the Hanson ranch. Either somebody wants that land for themselves or they have a reason for keeping me from having it.”

  “Will do.”

  “By the end of the week,” Grady added.

  “It’s Wednesday now.”

  “Then you’ll just have to get your butt in gear, won’t you?”

  Jarrod sighed. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Grady impatiently jammed the phone back in its cradle, only to realize that his grandfather was standing in the doorway, regarding him with curiosity. He crossed the room in three quick strides to embrace the man who meant more to him than anyone.

  Even at seventy-five his grandfather was an impressive man. His thick black hair fell past his shoulders in braids that were streaked with gray. His tanned face was carved with deep lines, his black eyes intense, his bearing proud.

  Thomas Blackhawk took a step back, his hands on Grady’s shoulders, and studied his face. “You look troubled.”

  “Exasperated,” Grady said.

  “Perhaps you should spend some time with me up in the mountains,” Thomas suggested. “It might give you some peace and some perspective.”

  “I imagine it would,” Grady agreed. “But right now I don’t have the time.”

  His grandfather’s weathered face creased with a half smile. “All the more reason to come, don’t you think?”

  “I’ll think about it,” Grady promised. He gestured to a chair. “Can I get you something? Coffee? A drink? I have some of that disgusting orange soda you love so much.”

  “That would be good. And a man who lives on caffeine has no room to criticize my choice of beverage.”

  Grady brought his grandfather the bottle of soda. “What brings you all the way down here? Usually if I want to see you this time of year, I have to come to you.”

  “I have heard some troubling things.”

  Grady’s gaze narrowed. “About?”

  “You.”

  Uh-oh, Grady thought. The meddling Hansons were innocent babes in the wood compared to his grandfather. “Oh?” he said, keeping his expression neutral.

  “You have been spending time with the Hanson widow, true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? You are not pressuring her to sell you the land, are you?”

  “We’ve discussed it,” he said, choosing his words carefully. They had been over this ground before. But Grady believed that despite his grandfather’s denials in recent years, he wanted that land returned to the Blackhawk family. He’d just tired of the futile battle.

  His grandfather regarded him with resignation. “Why can’t I make you see that this is unnecessary? For years I told your father to let it be, but he refused to listen. You are the same. That land means nothing to me.”

  “It is Blackhawk land,” Grady said fiercely.

  “It was Blackhawk land.”

  “It was stolen from our ancestors.”

  “At a troubling time in our history,” his grandfather agreed. He peered at Grady intently. “Tell me something. Do you need this land for your ranch?”

  “No, of course not. It’s not even near here.”

  “Nor do I,” his grandfather said. “So why are you stirring things up, if it is no longer of any importance to us?”

  “It’s a matter of principle,” Grady said.

  “Is this principle more important than the woman?”

  So, Grady thought with a sigh, his grandfather had heard that there was more between Grady and Karen than a battle over acres of ranch land.

  “One thing has nothing to do with the other,” Grady replied, mouthing the lie that was becoming second nature to him.

  “Explain that to me,” his grandfather said. “It seems to me the two are inevitably intertwined.”

  “I can keep them separate,” Grady insisted.

  “Can she?” Thomas Blackhawk rose stiffly to his feet. “Think long and hard before you choose unwisely and trade one thing for another. It would not be the first time one of our people made that mistake.”

  “Meaning?”

  “That things are not always what they seem at first glance. And there are many ways to bring things full circle.”

  Grady regarded him with impatience. “And I suppose that your enigmatic response is all you intend to say?”

  “For now,” his grandfather agreed, his eyes twinkling.

  “Riddles,” Grady muttered. “I ask for advice, and all I get are riddles.”

  “You are the brightest of my grandsons. Use your intelligence to figure them out.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  “Then listen to your heart.”

  His grandfather’s words lingered long after he had gone. Grady was up all night thinking, but he couldn’t seem to convince himself to stray from his original course of action. For too many years he had lived with the need to see that land restored to the Blackhawks. The memory of his ancestors deserved that, even if those living no longer thought it mattered.

  It was only after hours of tossing and turning that he understood the second part of what his grandfather had been trying to tell him. In effect, his grandfather had given his blessing to a relationship between Grady and Karen. But what was that nonsense about bringing things full circle?

  Another riddle, he concluded with a sigh. His grandfather was a master of them. Unfortunately, Grady seldom had the patience to unravel them, not with the very real mystery of the sabotage to the Hanson herd standing between him and his goal.

  * * *

  Grady walked into the First National Bank of Winding River promptly at nine o’clock and headed straight for the president’s office. Ignoring the secretary’s indignant protests, he strolled into Nathaniel Grogan’s office.

  “Shall I call security, sir?” Miss Ames asked, casting a look of alarm in Grady’s direction.

  Grogan waved her off. “I can handle the gentleman.”

  “Could be you’re being overly optimistic,” Grady observed when the door had closed behind the indignant secretary.

  “What’s on your mind, Grady?”

  Grady nodded at the acknowledgment of his identity. He’d known Nate for years, so it seemed highly unlikely that the man would have mistaken an impostor for him, which meant that face-to-face meeting he’d claimed had been a blatant lie.

  “I’m sure you can figure that out,” Grady told him.

  “The mortgage on the Hanson land.”

  Grady gave him an exaggerated look of approval. “Bingo.”

  “What about it?”

  “Apparently you told Caleb Hanson that I tried to buy up that mortgage. You told the same thing to Jarrod Wilcox. Yes or no?”

  “I told them that, yes.”

  “Even though you know it’s a blatant lie.”

  “I don’t know that.” Grogan reached i
nto his desk drawer and pulled out a file. “Here’s the paperwork, all filled out nice and proper. That’s your signature at the bottom.”

  Grady’s gaze narrowed as he studied the paper. “It’s a damn fine forgery,” he said at last.

  “Are you telling me that’s not your handwriting?” the man asked, clearly taken aback.

  “That’s what I’m telling you. I never filled out that paperwork. And whoever witnessed it and said I did is lying.”

  The old man seemed shaken by his vehemence. “Let me get Miss Ames in here. That’s her notary seal on this.”

  He buzzed for his secretary. “In here now, Miss Ames.”

  The door opened at once, but the woman was slow to enter. “Yes, Mr. Grogan?”

  “I want you to take a look at something.”

  She edged around Grady, then took the papers her boss held out.

  “Is that your stamp on there?” Grogan asked.

  She looked it over carefully, then nodded.

  “And is this the man you saw sign those papers?” he demanded.

  Another flicker of alarm flashed in her eyes as she glanced Grady’s way. Her response was inaudible.

  “What was that?” Grogan snapped. “Speak up, Miss Ames.”

  “I said no, sir. I’ve never met this gentleman.”

  “This is Grady Blackhawk,” Nate told her. “Now my next question is, who in hell signed the papers?”

  Miss Ames seemed to shrink inside her smart business suit. “I don’t actually know,” she said, then burst into tears.

  Both men stared at her incredulously, but Grady was the first to speak. “Aren’t you supposed to witness something before using your seal?”

  Her head bobbed as the tears continued to fall. “Yes, but these were on my desk one morning with a note to put the seal on them and leave the file for Mr. Grogan. That’s what I did. I thought it must be really urgent.” She regarded her boss with dismay. “I thought it was what you wanted, that it wouldn’t matter if I broke the rules since you were the one telling me to do it.”

  The bank president simply stared at her. “I know you’ve only been here a short time, but have I ever asked you to do anything dishonest?”

  “No, sir. That’s why I thought it must be very important.”

  “And you have no idea who put the papers there?”

  “None. They were there when I arrived for work. You were in your office, so I was sure you’d left them, just like the note said.”

  “I don’t suppose you kept the note,” Nate said.

  She shook her head. “No, sir.”

  Grogan sighed heavily. “You may go, Miss Ames.”

  “You’re…you’re not firing me?”

  “Not at this time,” he said. “Not until we get all of this sorted out, at any rate. But if I find you know more than you’ve told us just now, you will be out of here. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  Her head bobbed. She left the room looking so terrified that Grady almost felt sorry for her.

  “I apologize,” Grogan said. “I don’t know what she could have been thinking.”

  “That she was doing you a favor, I’m sure,” Grady told him wryly. “Obviously she’s very loyal to you.”

  “Or to someone else,” Grogan said wearily. “I’ll straighten this out. I promise you that. And I will call Mrs. Hanson and explain things to her.”

  Grady nodded. “I wish you would. And one more thing. Were you the one who warned Caleb Hanson about this so-called attempt on my part to buy up his mortgage?”

  “Yes. I saw to it that the application was denied and then told him what was going on. He and his family have banked here for years. I thought he had a right to know.”

  “Who else could have left those papers on your secretary’s desk, especially before she arrived in the morning?”

  “Anyone who works here. The other employees arrive here around eight. Miss Ames drops her son off at school. She doesn’t arrive until closer to eight-thirty. It wouldn’t take a minute to drop off the file. People leave papers on Miss Ames’s desk all day long. No one would think a thing about it.”

  “But it couldn’t have been an outsider, correct? It had to be someone working here?”

  “So it seems.” He looked Grady in the eye. “I’ll get to the bottom of it. You have my word on that.”

  Grady nodded. He didn’t doubt that Nathaniel Grogan’s intentions were honorable, but as Jarrod Wilcox had already pointed out, this incident, like the others, had taken place long ago. Finding answers wasn’t going to be simple. People’s memories faded. Except, of course, for the person who’d done it. He or she wouldn’t have forgotten. But could the wrongdoer be persuaded to tell the truth?

  “I’ll hold you to that,” he said as Nate walked with him onto the main floor of the bank.

  Just as they stepped into the marble-floored lobby, Karen walked through the front door, took one look at the two of them and turned pale. Then bright patches of color flared in her cheeks right before she turned and fled.

  “Dammit,” Grady muttered, and took off after her. He knew what she was thinking, knew she was adding up two and two and coming up with a hundred and ten or whatever number would be most damning.

  He caught up with her halfway down the block and fell into step beside her. She didn’t even glance over at him.

  “Good morning,” he said, being deliberately upbeat.

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “That’s fine, because I have quite a lot to say to you,” he said, steering her into Stella’s before she could protest. He knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn’t make a scene, not here in front of her friend Cassie, who was staring at them, clearly ready to intercede.

  “This looks like a nice quiet place to talk,” Grady said tightly as he aimed for the booth in the back.

  He stood there until she sank onto the seat with a resigned sigh, then he slid in next to her just to be sure she couldn’t bolt before they had this out.

  “Everything okay?” Cassie asked, her worried gaze on Karen.

  “Fine,” Grady said. “Bring us two cups of coffee.” He glanced at Karen. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

  “It’s after ten. What do you think?”

  He bit back a grin, then glanced up at Cassie. “I guess the coffee will do for now.”

  He noted that Karen’s hands were folded primly on the table, that her gaze was everywhere but on him. Those angry patches of color in her cheeks hadn’t faded. He warned himself to give it another couple of minutes before saying anything. Maybe once she’d had her coffee, her temper would die down and she’d be ready to listen to reason.

  Cassie brought the steaming cups to the table, then lingered, but when neither Karen or Grady looked up, she sighed and walked away.

  “I suppose you were wondering what I was doing with Nate Grogan,” he said finally.

  “I don’t think it takes much imagination to figure that out,” she snapped. “Did he agree to let you buy up the mortgage this time?”

  “I never tried to buy the blasted mortgage,” Grady retorted. “Not today. Not two years ago.”

  “So you say.”

  “Ask Grogan. He intends to call you to explain what happened anyway.”

  “I’m sure he’ll say whatever you want him to say,” she said.

  “He didn’t before, did he? Wasn’t he the one who called Caleb to tell him what I was supposedly up to?”

  She hesitated at that. “Yes,” she conceded.

  “Well, today he found out that I was not the person who filled out that original paperwork. I’m sure he’ll tell you that if you ask.”

  She turned to him at last, her blue eyes filled with confusion. “But the papers…?”

&nb
sp; “They were forged by someone and later notarized by a loyal secretary who thought she was doing what Grogan wanted her to do.”

  Her gaze searched his and Grady thought he saw a faint flicker of hope in her eyes. “Honestly?”

  “I won’t lie to you, Karen. I haven’t before and I won’t start now. I want that land, but I have never done anything devious or underhanded to try to get it.”

  A sigh seemed to shudder through her at that. “I want to believe you,” she admitted.

  “Then do it,” he pleaded. “Believe me. Trust me.”

  “If only it were that simple,” she whispered.

  She didn’t have to say what she was really thinking. Grady knew. Caleb had labeled him the enemy. How could he possibly overcome the accusations of a dead man, especially a dead man that she had loved with all her heart?

  At that moment, for the first time, Grady understood the true meaning of hatred and jealousy. He hated Caleb Hanson, not for all of the lies he had believed about Grady and shared with his wife in the past, but for his ability to rob them of a future even from the grave.

  CHAPTER 9

  Something had changed in that split second when Grady had looked into Karen’s eyes at Stella’s. It was as if a light had gone off inside him, as if he’d been defeated. It wasn’t long before he’d made his excuses and left, leaving her staring after him in confusion.

  She had told herself then that it would pass, that things would return to normal, that he would pop up when she least expected him at the ranch, but it hadn’t happened that way. Just as he’d disappeared before when she’d hurt him, he hadn’t been around for days now. Even Hank and Dooley, who had regarded him with suspicion from the beginning, had commented on his absence.

  “Thought he was becoming a permanent fixture around here,” Dooley said, a hint of disapproval plain in his voice.

  “Well, he wasn’t,” Karen said defensively. Hiding her confusion behind anger, she added, “And we don’t have time to stand around gabbing about a man who had no business being here in the first place.”

  “Fine by me,” Dooley said.

  “And me,” Hank said fervently. “The boss never did like him.”